Page 139 of The Overtime Kiss

“Maybe later,” she says, then takes the water bottle and drinks more. She hands it to me and I set it down on the nightstand.

Drama stretches her way across the bed, padding closer to Sabrina.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” I ask.

She shrugs, but then says, “I don’t think I’m sleepy right yet. Maybe I’ll watch something.”

“What do you want to watch?” I say, then I don’t give her a chance to turn me down. I hop into bed right next to her.

She stares at me like I’m losing it, shirking away. “You shouldn’t get that close. You might die.”

I laugh. “I’m not going to die.”

“I really don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’m pretty tough.”

“There’s a difference between this virus and someone trying to beat you up with a hockey stick.”

“You’re right. I’m not going to lose my teeth here,” I say.

“Tyler,” she says. She’s so tough but the thing is, I’m immovable in this regard.

“I’m going to be fine. You can’t stop me. Best to just give in.”

She sighs, acquiescing, then says, “You want to watch some skating?”

I smile. “A woman after my own heart.”

Then I hunt through the Chromecast and I find some old skating videos. We watch together, pointing out triple loops and axles, camel spins and twizzles, and oohing and aahing over the jumps.

When she yawns, I say, “Do you want to try to go to sleep again?”

She nods, so I turn off the TV and dim the lights a little more, checking her temperature once again. She’s one hundred one, but that’s good. She’s not getting worse.

I help her settle into the covers, gently take the hair tie from her half-bun, and stroke her hair. “Do you need anything else?”

She shakes her head.

“Sabrina,” I say, since I haven’t said I’m sorry yet and really, I need to.

“Yes,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry,” I say, blurting it out.

She’s quiet for a beat, then she says, “S’okay.”

I keep stroking her hair as I speak. “I’m sorry about the other day. I handled it badly. This is all new to me. The way I feel for you and balancing it all, and I should have done a better job. I just want you to know that, and I want you to come with me. With us. If you want to. I want you to come…just because I want you there,” I say, my heart jumping around as I think about taking her to New York.

But when I look down at her again, she’s fast asleep and probably has been for the last few minutes. I tuck the blanket tightly around her and drop a kiss to her warm forehead.

Tonight is for healing, not exoneration.

35

PRETEND I NEVER SAID AVOCADO

Sabrina

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