Page 65 of Take Me to the Wedding

“Of course I do, you lug head. I mean, jeesh. You could have plunged to your death!”

“But I didn’t. Because of your quick thinking. You slowed me down enough that I didn’t go straight over the edge.”

A sob escaped me. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it was no use. This time I couldn’t hide the emotion. I was overcome with tears.

“Sam, come here.” His voice was calm yet commanding in the nicest way. He scooched over in the creaky bed and tugged on my arm, which brought me down lying sideways with my back next to him on the narrow bed, his arm around me.

Oh, it was heaven.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I think I just realized what could’ve happened.”

He cleared his throat. I felt the warmth of his body through to my skin. And his gentle strength. “But it didn’t. Thanks to you, I live to torment you another day.”

That wonderful, joking way of his. I never wanted to move.

I laughed, which meant I was laugh-crying, which was terrible. And now my back was itching. And my legs. Like, furiously itching.

Finally he pointed toward the items I’d abandoned on the other bunk. “Is that food?”

“Oh. Yes. Here.” I shook out of whatever trance I’d been in, bolted upright, and grabbed the bags. “Mia said you didn’t eat much lunch.” Actually, she’d told me the salad story. That’s how I got the double cheeseburger idea. Because if I’d been through all that he had, which in a way I had, minus the broken bone of course, that’s what I would’ve wanted. Plus fries. And a shake, which I pulled out and placed it at his bedside, then fished out a straw. “You’d be proud. I didn’t even have to kill anything to get Pierre the chef on board.”

He laughed, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. “How’d you do that?”

“I asked Pierre to fire up the burgers. And I might’ve said that it was a matter of life and death.” I snuck a fry. I’d had no appetite all day from all the worry, but now suddenly I was starving. “And of course you’re a big hero around here, so he did it ASAP.”

He peeked into the other bag. “There are two giant burgers in here.”

“One of those might be mine.” I turned red. “You don’t mind if we eat together, do you? I mean, if you’re in too much pain…”

“Please stay. I need a distraction,” he said with a full mouth. “Also, I’m starving.”

“Near death will do that to you.”

He held out the fries to me while he took a bite of the giant cheeseburger.

He grinned. Then I grinned. And then I opened the container of ketchup Pierre had tucked in the bag. We reached at the same time for the same exact fry.

Awkward. But also funny. I withdrew my hand.

“You let me have this fry?” He sounded incredulous as he held it up between us. “Just like that?”

I shrugged and snagged another one. “Well, youarethe one who had to go to the hospital,” I said.

“You mustreallylike me.”

“I don’t hate you.” But not hating him, I was learning fast, was very dangerous.

Hate is a powerful emotion. It keeps people away. So does disdain and disinterest. I was great at those. I was a literal star at driving men away. Now it felt as if some kind of barrier had come down between us. I felt raw and naked. This had been so much easier when we argued all the time.

“Kind of you.” He reached for the shake. “Is this chocolate?”

“Yes.”

“Then Iloveyou.”

I laughed, the tension finally broken. “From like to love in seconds. Your favorite?”

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