Page 129 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

“Thank God. Can I see him?”

Dale nodded, but neither of us moved. His face and eyes softened as he looked at me and I wanted to put my arms around him and kiss him and tell him I loved him and how sorry I was about everything, but I couldn’t, not there in the middle of the hospital.

“Sara…” he started, his thumbs moving on my upper arms, hands still holding onto me, not wanting to let me go. Then he seemed to remember. “Wait… what are you doing here?”

“Aimee’s here…” I pointed to the room I’d just come out of. “She’s… oh Dale, she’s sick again. I’m not sure if she ever really got better…”

And what are the odds of that? That’s what the Aimee in my head said in regards to she and John just happening to end up in the same hospital on the same floor at the same time—the Aimee in my head nudging me and talking about fate and destiny and people who were meant to be together.

“Oh no.” Then Dale did put his arms around me, pulling my head to his chest, and I closed my eyes, letting myself be held by him. It felt so good, like coming home. “Why can’t the universe just give you a break?”

I sniffed and half-laughed at his comment. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t about me.”

“Is she going to be okay? Should I go in?” He nodded toward Aimee’s closed hospital room door.

“No, there’s a counselor in there.” That’s why I’d left, because the social worker wanted some time alone with ‘the family’—which now included Matt, but not me. So strange. But it was Matt who had noticed this time, not me, and maybe that was the way it should be. “She’s dehydrated—it was laxatives this time. Not as bad as before. Her weight is down, but they caught it, thanks to Matt. They’re talking about more therapy. I don’t know what will work.”

“Sometimes there’s no cure for the crazy.” Dale sighed, stroking my hair. “I think we all just have to keep loving through it. Maybe that’s the cure.”

“Love?” I smiled, rubbing my cheek against his t-shirt and the strong, solid chest underneath, his heart beating that beautiful, steady rhythm I had come to crave.

“Wouldn’t it be great if love was the cure for everything?” He tilted my chin up, searching my eyes. “Come on, my dad will want to see you.”

“Sara!” John’s eyes brightened behind the bandages when we walked into the room.

“Are you okay?” I went over to kiss him gently on the cheek. He had several cuts and bruises they’d bandaged up and a neck brace on.

“It looks far worse than it really is,” he assured me. “The other guy rear-ended me but he got away without a scratch. So I take it you two have made up?”

John looked hopefully between us but I just shrugged, glancing over at Dale. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a disapproving look on his face, but I thought that might have more to do with John being in a hospital bed than the fight we’d had the other day.

“I just wanted to bring her in to see you before I headed back home,” Dale told him.

I frowned. “How are you getting home?”

“The bus.” Dale looked pointedly at John. “Since the car’s in the shop for a while.”

“I’ll drive you,” I offered.

Dale hesitated, looking between me and his father.

“You know what?” John put a hand to his head. “Why don’t you two go on? I’m feeling a little tired.”

“Okay, Dad.” Dale said goodbyes to his father and went to the door, holding it open and waiting for me.

I bent down to kiss John’s cheek again and he whispered, “How’d I do?”

“You’re like an old Jewish matchmaker,” I whispered back. “Except you’re not old. Or Jewish.”

“I’d argue with you about the old part.” He grinned. “I feel ninety right about now.”

I made a face at him. “Feel better, old man.”

“I do already.”

* * * *

“Thanks for the ride.” Dale turned to me in the darkness as I turned off the car, and there we were like we’d been so many times before, face to face in my front seat, the tension between us palpable.

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