Page 177 of Hate Mates

Maybe he’s unsure of his next move, but he doesn’t move. So, sandwich in hand, I climb into his side. He edges to the door before realizing there is absolutely no way that we can both fit on the seat.

Changing direction, he moves back to his previous spot. It’s almost impossible for him to hide the discomfort in his expression as he allows me to sit in his lap.

“Hold this.” I hand him the sandwich.

I didn’t realize how cold he was. Maybe colder than me. I feel the chill on his skin rising from his jeans to mine.

“You’re like ice.” I open the blanket and tuck it in around us both.

“It’s because I’ve been outside.” His voice is different due to a full mouth. A giant chunk is taken from the sandwich. “That tomato was calling me.”

“Have more.” I don’t want him to be hungry. “It’s a big sandwich.”

“I gave it to you.”

“I don’t mind sharing.”

Stopping at what looks like exactly half, he places the sandwich back in my hands.

I don’t eat like he does. Dissecting the snack, I start with the tomatoes first because they’re my least favorite thing. The lettuce is next, and the bread is last because that’s the best part.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a weirdo.” I gaze up at him with eyes tired from tears and the long day as I place a half-eaten tomato on my tongue.

“You eat like one.” His eyes stay on my face as I swallow it down.

The stare becomes uncomfortable.

“What?”

“You asked about the bump on my nose.”

“Uh-uh”

“And I answered.”

My deep breath shows him how cold I am. His eyes move back to my face, a gentle finger following. Until now, he’s kept his hands strictly at his side.

“How did you get this bruise?”

A ringing phone allows me to get out of answering the question for a little while. The mood lightens when Lochlan slides his finger across the screen to reveal his brother in a hospital bed, semi-sat up, with a smile on his lips.

“Well, don’t you guys look cozy?” I’m about to tell him that we’re bundled this close for necessity, but he continues, “Where on earth are you guys?”

“There’s something wrong with the car. I had to pull over.” Lochlan ignores the questioning glances from both of his parents and his aunt and uncle sitting alongside them.

The judgment is harder for me to ignore, and my hand slips into Lochlan’s beneath our blanket, needing a little support. Surprisingly, he doesn’t pull away.

“At least it wasn’t to bury Lourdez in the snow.” Even on his deathbed, Colten wants to joke.

“Surprisingly, we haven’t killed each other yet, as you can see.”

“I can see you’re both looking very friendly.”

“We’re just cold, Colten.” I lean into Lochlan to get a better view of the video call. Colten’s so pale right now. “But otherwise, okay. We shouldn’t be much longer.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And surprised.”

“How are you feeling?”

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