Page 264 of Wrath

I laugh. “Maybe.”

“’S okay. You can go.” He looks frowny, like he might be in pain. I kiss his cheek. “You okay?”

He nods. When I step out of the restroom, he’s still awake. He smiles, just a twitch of his cheek, and he says, “You don’t have to get in…if you don’t want to.”

“You want me not to? Just give you some space?”

“I want you to.” He does the wince-smile again.

When I’m back in bed, he hugs me harder than he has so far. “I love you, my Miller. Thanks for coming on the field.”

His voice is thick and hoarse, his big body warm around me.

I kiss his jaw. “Of course, angel.”

“You’re one,” he murmurs. And then he’s sleeping with his cheek against the top of my head. An hour or so later, Luke and Vance are back with breakfast. They bring a bunch of random stuff from Starbucks, and I’m surprised Ezra takes the iced coffee, but he looks cute as he sips on it with his sleepy eyes. He has a few bites of a biscuit, and then—it all feels very sudden—lots of different people start to come in.

Luke and Vance take baby Eden for a walk as nurses rid poor Ez of all his wires and tethers and help him sit up in bed. For the next hour, we watchWheel of Fortuneon the room’s TV, and he hugs me against his chest.

“You okay, angel?”

He nods. He’s got his cheek against my hair.

“You sure?” I ask.

He nods again. “I was worried…but it’s okay.” His arm tightens its grip on me. “Because of you.”

“Because ofyou,” I say. “Because you’re so strong, dude.” He shakes his head. He rubs his temple against my hair, and a minute later, I’m surprised to feel what I think is a teardrop. His chest gives a quick heave, and I turn to face him. He’s wiping his eyes with his hand that has a Band-Aid from the IV.

“Sorry,” he says, and I’m shocked to find he’s full-on crying.

“Hey…Ez. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” He holds his head, and his shoulders shake with a few silent sobs. Then hetakes a few deep breaths and wipes his face again. “Thanks, Millsy. I’m not upset,” he rasps. “It’s okay.” His sleepy eyes look puffy.

“Yeah?”

“I just…realized something.” His voice breaks.

I cup my hand over his shoulder. “What is it, angel?”

Fresh tears spill down his cheeks. He rubs his temples and shakes his head. Then he lifts his face so he can tell me, “It’s not me. That’s strong. I was scared on the field.” His lips tremble. He presses them flat, and another tear falls. “But you were there, so it wasn’t as bad.” His voice is thick. He swallows again.

When he speaks next, it’s just a soft rasp. “Nobody was there at Alton. Or at Sheppard Pratt.” He hunches his shoulders and covers his eyes. “I don’t understand why.”

He’s breathing heavy like he’s crying behind his hand. Then he’s holding onto me, and I’m rubbing his back as he sobs with his face against my shoulder for a long time.

When he pulls away, he looks embarrassed. He looks sleepy as he rubs a finger over my neck. “Sorry for the…moisture there.”

I reach out and stroke a hand through his hair. “Don’t be sorry for that. Be upset, dude. You went through some horrible shit. You should be upset.” I put my hand over his heart and give his chest a tap with my fingertip. “Means all that’s still working.”

He wipes his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Ez. For talking to me. And for letting me share the bed.”

He smiles, and he looks so fucking cute with sleepy, puffy eyes. I cup his cheek with my hand. “You’re so fucking badass. So damn gorgeous, and my favorite person. You killed yesterday, and Bama won the game. Surgeon said your ankle’s gonna be good, and Luke and Vance said they could fly us home if we want.”

Ezra is still smiling as he leans his head backagainst the raised bed. He pulls me to his chest, hugging me hard, and I rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“Josh?” he whispers.

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