Page 52 of Endless

I let out a long breath. “Not sure. I still can’t get over how she stayed with me while I was sleeping. And then rehab.”

“As ineverysingle day. Never missed one, even when she had a killer cold. Though she sat on the far side of the room reading to you so she wouldn’t get you sick.”

I so didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. From anyone. With Walker and Scott possibly sniffing around me, it might not be safe for her. “Drey?”

“Yeah.”

“I should probably ditch her, huh? I mean, until all this gang stuff is settled, right?”

“Might be a good idea.” His voice was louder, so I guessed he was facing me. “You think you can?”

“Can—yeah.Wantto—different story. There’s something about that chick.”

“Yeah? What is it, you think?”

“Not sure.” I pictured Drey shrugging like he usually did when he was clueless. “Whatever it is, though, I don’t think I can stay away from her.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Lizzie

“You’regettingprettygoodwith the walking stick,” I said, guiding Damon to the Jeans Co. store.

“It’s Mr. Magic. I hate the wordswalking stickabout as much as I hate being blind.” He tapped the tiled floor.

“Got it. Mr. Magic. Cuz that’ssomuch better.”

“Be nice. Or I won’t buy you a cookie later. Now, you’re not taking me to some lame-ass clothing place, right? Because, remember, my brother’s loaded, and I can get the good stuff.”

“Give me some credit. I do have a little fashion sense.”

“Not that I can tell.”

“Then you’ll have to trust me.”

“Not so easy, babe.”

“First steps, like your PT said.”

“Ugh. I call no more talking about my rehab. Three weeks of that, learning the guesthouse at Drey’s and figuring everything out, I just want to shop. I’ve been wearing the same two pairs of jeans for weeks!”

“Don’t worry.”

“Hi. Welcome to the Jeans Co. I’m Amber. If you need—”

“We’re good. Got my personal shopper right here.” He raised my hand. “Now, show us your best jeans.”

I swore I saw dollar signs ring in her eyes as she whirled away. “Follow me.”

“What’s she look like?” Damon asked as I steered him around the stacks and racks of clothing. The music blared so I could barely hear him. This place was insane.

Oh, a crack.Shit. I stepped over it, and Damon grunted at my misstep. He needed routine, counting, and as much as I liked to count, I couldn’t step on the cracks. Or seams. And the place was filled with them.Shit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. What do you mean?”

“Misstep, and you took in a deep breath.”

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