I follow her bewildered gaze, which has shifted to the bulging plastic bag by my side. “All of them, I think? In this hospital, at least—well, excluding the staff rooms.” I don’t bother clarifying that “all of them” includes the gift shop stock on top of what I found in every last vending machine that crossed my path. It might seem excessive, but if M&Ms were what my Blondie desired, then I would bring her as many of those small chocolatey candies as I could physically get my hands on.
Despite the weariness on her face, Blondie cracks a smile—dimples and all—and chuckles. “You’re ridiculous.”
My heart does a somersault in my chest at the fuckingdelightfulsound of her laugh. “Just doing my part,” I declare with a grin, and I wonder if she can sense what I’m desperate to say to her. If she can read it on my face.
The words push at the boundary of my lips, and they’re about to slip out when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Lex?” Andie interrupts, and I turn to see the cousins anxiously inching toward us. I completely forgot about them the moment Blondie re-entered the room. I’m certain they caught sight of her, too, so I can only assume they hung back to give us a minute alone. But now, I can see on both their faces how eager they are for news of her mom.
Blondie puffs out her cheeks and blows out a loud breath before offering them each a tentative smile. “Mom is okay,”she assures them, answering their unspoken question. Glancing between the three of us, she gives us a brief rundown on what’s happening with Carol, and what she plans to do in the interim. “Gina said there’s no point sticking around since I won’t be allowed in with her outside of visiting hours, so I’m thinking of going home and coming back again in the morning. Gina will be here overnight, and she said she’ll call me if anything changes.”
“I’ll get you home,” I offer before quickly adding, “if you want.” Blondie’s face flushes when our eyes lock, causing my heart to do something entirely new, something weird, and fuck…if this feeling writhing inside me isn’t love, I don’t know what the hell it is.
“Okay,” she says, her voice so soft it barely qualifies as a whisper.
Ronnie clears her throat, and Blondie blinks rapidly as if suddenly woken up from a trance. Her long dark lashes flutter against the porcelain of her cheeks.
“Th-thank you both for being here,” she stammers, remembering herself as she breaks my gaze and glances between her friends’ faces. They each respond with the same patient smile.
“Any time, Lex, you know that,” Andie murmurs.
Ronnie steps forward and clasps Blondie’s hands in hers. “Call us if you need us. For anything, regardless of the time, okay?”
“I will,” Blondie promises as the two girls throw their arms around her.
We part ways with Ronnie and Andie outside the hospital, the cousins crossing the road to the lot where Ronnie parked her car, while Blondie and I wait at the drop-off loop by the main entrance for our Uber.
When I got Ronnie’s text, my first instinct was to jump in my car and race over here, but then I considered how much timeI might waste looking for a free parking space, assuming there were any at all, and though I was ready to ditch my darling Renesmobile in the middle of the street if I had to, taking an Uber seemed preferable to causing a potential traffic collision. It took longer than I would have liked—not to mention the pit stop I made to buy flowers—which meant calling the hospital from the car to take care of Carol’s bill so the Dornans wouldn’t have to worry about it, but in hindsight, I think it was the best choice. I doubt I would’ve been in the right headspace to drive, and now, it means I can give Blondie my full attention on the way to her house.
When the Uber arrives less than two minutes later, I climb into the back seat with her, the bag of M&Ms sandwiched between my feet on the floor, and my heart gallops when she opts to sit in the middle, gluing herself to my side. My eyes dip to her hands, which she clenches nervously in her lap, then lift to her face—to her eyes, which shine behind her glasses. I don’t think as my arm seems to move of its own accord, sliding around her shoulders and pulling her close to me. I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do. I’m not sure if I should give her space. But those doubts are silenced when she lets out a stilted breath and sinks into my chest with a sigh.
Neither of us says a word during the car ride. I just hold her to me, occasionally pressing my lips to her hair, trying (and failing) to ignore her hand on my thigh. There’s nothing remotely sexual about what we’re doing—this moment is strictly about comfort—but embracing her like this, having her so close that her scent is the only thing my brain is aware of, is only making me all the more attuned to how fucking much I want her. And not just in bed, but in all the ways. I want every part of her.
Because I love her.
I fuckingloveher.
That realization rings through my head in a constant loop right up until we pull in front of Blondie’s house. Then, as we walk the short path to her porch, all I hear in my head istell her,tell her, like my heart is pumping those words into my blood so I feel them everywhere.
“So, it looks like I have the house to myself tonight,” she says once we reach her door, her tone casual, though the implication behind it is obvious. “Do you…want to come in?”
Yes!every part of me screams as she unlocks the door, but I stop myself from crossing the threshold.
“Only if you want me to.” Her brow furrows, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I hold up my free hand to stop her. “And just so it’s clear, if youdowant me to come in, I’m not expecting anything. I’m here for you for whatever you need, bag of M&Ms and all.”
I lift the overstuffed bag dangling from my other hand to prove my point.
Blondie stares at my haul as I lower it back to my side. “I need you to stop being so…this.”
“This?” I echo.
She huffs out an exasperated breath. “Charming. Sweet.Thoughtful.” Annoyance punctuates every word. “It makes me confused.”
A jolt of something that feels a lot like guilt hits me like a lightning strike to my heart. “Confused about what?”
She shoots me a vexed look before moving her hand back and forth between us. “What this is…exactly.”
As her words—and the understanding of them—sinks in, that pang in my chest grows more pronounced. I guess it looks like my hunch at the bar last night was right. Blondie doesn’t believe I like her—or at least not enough to break my “no girlfriend” rule.
