Page 142 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

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BLAKELY

After Theo called the ambulance, Kate woke up groggy and disoriented. When she realized she was on the ground and we were all standing around her, the blood drained from her face and she tried to get up. But Mack held her back, telling her to stay calm and the ambulance would be at the restaurant any minute to take her to the hospital.

She was furious.

But the worst part? She wouldn’t stop apologizing. Hell, she couldn’t. It broke my heart. We followed in our own cars to the hospital, but she refused to see any of us. It’s like she was ashamed. And I hate how she felt ashamed.

Honestly. It broke my heart.

Staring out the passenger window, I replay the night all over again, chewing on the pad of my thumb and glancing at Theo, his wrist resting against the steering wheel.

“You think she’ll be okay?” I whisper.

He squeezes my knee and pulls into his garage. “Yeah, Blake. I think she’ll be okay. Mack’s staying with her despite her wanting to be left alone. He said he’d text us if there are any more updates, but remember. Seizures are kind of par for the course with epilepsy.”

“I know.” I let out a breath. “But knowing it and seeing it firsthand are two different things.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for letting me stay over tonight.”

“You think you even have to ask?” he volleys back, lifting our entwined fingers and bringing them to his lips. His kiss is soft. Gentle.

I smile. “I believe you were the one who pointed out you don’t sleep with women,” I remind him.

He chuckles and kisses my fingers again. “You’re always the exception, Blake. Always.”

We head into his house, but the place is surprisingly quiet on a Saturday night. I look around the empty kitchen and ask, “Where is everyone?”

Theo hasn’t really thrown a Taylor House party since I was fired from the team. However, the lack of roommates or normal hustle and bustle usually present in the house is missing.

Right now, it’s only us.

“Logan’s throwing a party at his place,” Theo explains as he shrugs off his jacket.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How are things on that front, anyway?” I ask.

“Unless we’re on the ice, Colt and I stay out of his way, and he stays out of ours.”

“Do you think you guys will ever be able to smooth things over?”

Theo scratches his chin but stays quiet for a minute before muttering, “Doubt it. Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are too.”

He’s right. I am exhausted. My limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds as I walk up the stairs to his room. Theo gives me one of his shirts to sleep in and disappears into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As I run my fingers over the black cotton material, a memory resurfaces from dinner.

“Question,” I say when Theo enters the room.

He smiles back at me. “Answer.”

“When Colt brought up his signing with the Lions, you made a face at dinner.”

He squeezes the back of his neck. “What?”

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