Page 85 of Play Pretend

“She was so close to death when I started working on her. She’d lost so much blood, and her eyes were hazy, and she said—” He choked on a sob, and I squeezed his hand. “She said, ‘Let me go, Ro.’ But I ignored her, and I kept working on her. When EMS got there, she was hanging on by a fucking thread. Then she—” Another sob. “Then she died. She was clinically dead for forty-five seconds. For forty-five seconds, my sister wasn’t alive. She was gone. She was dead. I just stared at her body while they tried to bring her back, and all I could think about were her last words.

“They brought her back, by some fucking miracle. My mom and Adam rushed home, and Theo, my older brother, flew in on a helicopter.” He laughed harshly. “Leave it to him to somehow be the center of attention. After we knew Trin was going to make it, Adam left. We’ve only heard from him a handful of times in the last five years. He feels like it was his fault that Trin did what she did, so he stays away.”

Silence filled the room. Ronan sniffled, and I scooted closer to him, rolling onto my side. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he let out another choked sob.

“I saw my sister die,” he rasped. “And tonight, when you called me and I didn’t answer?—”

“Everything was okay,” I said, tears thickening my voice. “I was okay.”

“But you might not have been.” Reaching up, he pinched between his eyes. “I’ll never let you down again, Willow. I promise to always answer when you call. I won’t let you down again.”

I pressed my lips against his shoulder, letting them linger. “I know,” I whispered, and I meant it.

ronan

Ilifted my hands over my head and rested them flat against the headboard. A low groan left me as my joints popped, and my muscles stretched. Sunlight blinded me as my eyes fluttered open. I felt groggy butrested.

When was the last time I’d slept that hard? I didn’t know if I ever had.

Then, all at once, everything from last night hit me like a semi. I bolted upright in bed, my heart pounding as I looked to the side, finding the bed empty. Had it all been a dream?

But no. It hadn’t been. Iknewit hadn’t been. We’d slept together, and at some point in the night I woke to find myself wrapped around her, my arm draped across her. Our bodies fit together like missing puzzle pieces, and I knew I should’ve moved away, but I couldn’t. I only nestled deeper against her and fell asleep again.

I knew she’d been in my arms only a few hours ago, but where was she now?

As if on cue, something clanged from the other room, and I found myself barreling out of bed and blindly rushing toward the sound. As soon as I stumbled into the hallway, the scentof something cooking hit me and my mouth immediately began watering.

I skidded to a stop when I got to the kitchen. It was like a vision out of my fantasies. There she was, her hair twisted in a messy bun and her fluffy robe wrapped tightly around her. She hummed quietly to herself, a tune I didn’t recognize.

“Willow?” My voice was raspy from sleep. She didn’t hear me, and I took a hesitant step forward. Roughly, I cleared my throat, waiting for her to acknowledge me. When she didn’t, I rested my hand on her shoulder, and she jolted.

Whirling around, her eyes were huge as she stared up at me. She pressed her hand to the center of her chest, huffing out a laugh. “You scared me,” she breathed.

“Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck as she turned back toward the stove and snatched up a spatula. I forgot I even had that.

When she looked at me again, she had a bright smile on her face.

I swore angels sang, and the clouds parted, revealing rays of golden sunlight.

She’d never looked more gorgeous than she did at that moment.

“What are you doing?” I asked, and she twisted to the side, giving me a full view of the stove. I swallowed thickly. I’d need to make sure she shut it off later.

“I’m making pancakes. Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet.”

“You didn’t have to cook.” I moved to the microwave, double-checking that it was still unplugged. “Where did you get everything?”

“You had most of the stuff I needed.” She shrugged. “And you brought the rest from my place last night. But you really need to get groceries. Your cabinets are so empty.”

My face flamed. “I don’t cook,” I muttered, the admission sending a wave of embarrassment through me.

“Like, ever?” When I looked at her, she was staring at me like I had four heads. I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly.

“I don’t know how. Every time I try, I burn it. So it’s just easier to pick food up or microwave something.”

She shook her head. “You could’ve come over any time. I would’ve shared my food with you or taught you how to cook.”

“Yeah? When could that have happened?” I teased. “Before or after you berated me about my trash on your side?”

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