Page 88 of This Spells Love

I grab one of his mom’s quilts from the back of his couch and settle down to make myself comfortable.

The brown fabric smells a little musty but is surprisingly comfortable as I scrunch a decorative throw pillow under my head and try to tune out the sounds of the city I’m no longer accustomed to in my scream-proof basement.

I close my eyes. My body is tired, but my brain keeps racing. What the hell is going on with Dax? The apartment. His old car. The fact that he shops at No Frills. Something has changed from my timeline to this one that has set his life off in a slightly different direction. And I have no idea what it is or how to fix it.

“Gems?” His scratchy voice has me immediately on my feet.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

There’s no point in lying now.

“I know you didn’t hit your head, but I somehow convinced myself that you would slip into a coma in the middle of the night. It makes me feel better to be here.”

There’s a long pause on his side of the conversation.

“Come sleep with me?”

I love that he asks it like a question. His voice is shaky and uncertain. Full of vulnerability. Like I wouldn’t dive under his covers at any form of an invitation just to sleep next to him.

His room is pitch-dark. I take my time peeling back the covers of his cotton bedsheets and slipping in beside him so as not tojostle the bed and cause him any more pain. His hand snakes under the blankets until it finds mine, and he laces our fingers.

“Sorry if I was a dick earlier. I’ve got some stuff going on. I’m happy you’re here.”

My lips find the stubble of his cheek. I want to ask,What’s happening? Explain everything to me. I’ll understand, I promise.But instead, I kiss him, whispering softly into the dark, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

Chapter 24

I wake toa buzzing sound, then panic because I don’t recognize the feel of the sheets or the crack in the plaster ceiling above me.

I’m not in my bed.

Oh shit,it’s happened again.

Before I can bolt upright, warm fingers squeeze mine, and a wave of relief washes over me.

Dax.

I’m in his bed. Exactly where I’m meant to be.

“I think that’s your phone.” His voice reflects a short and painful night’s sleep.

It’s still dark, and it takes me a moment to locate my little white Samsung, flashing on the floor next to the nightstand.

“Hello?” I’m still half-asleep. My eyes are too heavy to open. The heat from Dax’s body is too pleasant to even consider leaving this bed.

“Gemma?” My aunt’s voice wakes me enough that I’m now coherent.

“What’s up? What’s going on?”

“Well…” There’s a distinct hesitation in her speech. “Mr.Zogaib just called me….” She pauses again, and I roll my eyes beneath my closed eyelids.

“It’s still dark outside. If Mr. Zogaib’s mother needs moisturizer, she’s gonna have to wait like the rest of the city.”

“No—” Her voice takes on a new tone. One I can’t quite place. “There’s been a fire. We’ve been trying to get a hold of everyone, but…”

I don’t hear the rest of her sentence. It’s as if the world around me goes silent for a moment. Like time freezes, and the only thing that’s allowed to move is my hammering heart.

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