Page 128 of Catch the Sun

Then she shakes her head, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. “Nothing, honey. I’ll send Max in. He’s dying to see you.”

“No, wait. What were you going to say?”

She strains a smile, still shaking her head. “We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.”

“I’m fine. I’m feeling fine.” I reach for her hand as she scoots the chair back, preparing to leave. “Mom, please.”

“It’s okay, Ella. We’ll talk later.” Pulling free of my grip, she stands from her seat.

My throat burns as I watch her walk out of the room. She sends me a quick, nervous smile over her shoulder before the curtains flutter closed behind her.

It’s the fall.

Everyone thinks I was pushed off that cliff…andGod, how I wish it was some random bully from school who had been there. I wish Andy or Heath had been the one to have pried my legs apart, held me down, beaten and bruisedme, then left me for dead at the bottom of the bluffs.

It would be so much easier.

I’m still swallowing down the true events when the curtain swings open again and my heart stutters, the beats tangling. I hear him before I see him. I hear the sound he makes.

A groan.

A tortured, audible groan of pain and relief.

My eyes close briefly as I suck in a breath, and then I open them, trailing my gaze up his denim-clad legs to his forest-green T-shirt before landing on his face. Weeks’ worth of scruff lines his jaw. His eyes are rimmed with dark circles and his hair has grown out, making him look even more like McKay.

Our eyes lock. Our breaths hold.

Max stands at the foot of my bed, his expression painted in pure torment as he holds my orange backpack in one of his hands. He sets it down, his fists balling to stones. His balance teeters as he fights back tears. “Ella,” he says softly.

I stare at him, not knowing what to say. I should tell him that he never left my mind for four weeks. He was there in every dream, in every haze-drenched reverie, refusing to let me forget. Refusing to let me go. Calling me back home.

My dry lips part to utter a single word. “Hi.”

If he was searching for more, he doesn’t say it. The lone syllable is enough to carry him toward me, his dark brows pinched together and his jaw tight with emotion. Max inches himself beside me on the bed with equal parts gentleness and urgency. He’s careful of my cords and needles, yet desperate for my touch. I stiffen at first, the guilt of my secret keeping me guarded and sealed up tight. But when his hand lifts up to cup my cheek and his fingers tilt my face toward his, my tension deflates like a popped balloon.

Icy-blue eyes gaze back at me. And not icy like the cold dread trickling through me, but crystalline and clear. A peaceful lake on a winter morning. “Sunny,” he says, dragging two fingers down my cheek with a featherlight touch that makes me tremble. “You remember me, right?”

I dip my chin, finding it hard to look at him. “Of course I do.”

“Every time you woke up, you were afraid of me. You’d look right at me, but it was like you were looking at someone else,” he says. “They kept havingto sedate you.”

“I want to know what my brother sees in you.”

“Knock it off, Ella. Fuck…just hold still!”

Hot pressure burns behind my eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember that.”

Max tips my chin up with his finger but my eyes remain squeezed shut. “The doctors were worried about amnesia.” When my eyes still don’t open, he drags his thumb along my damp cheekbone. “Hey…look at me, Ella. It’s okay.”

Goose bumps pimple along my skin at his touch. My body wants me to curl into him, inhale his scent, and kiss him until I can’t breathe, but my muddled mind has me slamming on the brakes.

I shake my head a little.

“You’re safe with me.” His voice sounds pleading.

“I know, I just… It’s a lot.” Sniffling, I allow my eyes to slide open, revealing a fresh coat of tears. “A month of my life is gone. Half my hair is gone. I don’t even know if I can walk.”

“You’ll walk.”

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