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“Do you love me, Rosalie?” he murmured, his brows crinkling. “Like really love me?”

“Of course I do.” I closed the space between us. “You’re not only my best friend but also my soulmate. At least one of them. I love you more than I love myself.”

A sad smile spilled onto his lips. “I’m your soulmate?”

“One of.” I rested my hand on his chest. “You know you are, Foxy.”

“I’d die for you,” he whispered. “Do you know that?”

I exhaled and cradled his face. “I’d die for you, too. You should rest, OK? I’ll get you some water—” I made to turn to go to the bathroom to get him a glass of water, but he grasped my hand and pulled me against his body. His mouth crashed down on mine, kissing me hard, his arms wound tightly around me.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he whispered between kisses. “My Rosie.”

I kissed him back before breaking away, breathless.

“And I love you.” Gently, I led him to my bed. I made quick work of undressing him, smiling as he kept trying to touch me whenever he could.

“Sleep,” I murmured, kissing his forehead.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me toward him. “I want all the moments with you, Rosie. We’re only promised so many.”

I stared down at him, noting how tired he looked. It was more than that. He was distressed. The alcohol was the mask.

“We will have millions of moments,” I answered, brushing my lips against his. “Promise me.”

He gave me a sad smile, his lashes fluttering closed before he murmured back, “I will give you a million moments. For you, anything.” His breathing deepened, letting me know he was out.

I watched him sleep for a long time before adjusting his blankets. I got him a glass of water and some meds and placed them on the bedside table before leaving the room to check on Anson, my heart filled with worry.

Cole and Enzo weren’t home yet. I made sure as I passed their rooms. I didn’t think Enzo would really mind Anson sleeping it off here, but I knew Cole would be angry.

I knocked lightly on the room I figured Anson was in and cracked the door open to see him sprawled out on the floor.

He definitely hadn’t made it to bed.

“Ani?” I went to my knees at his side and gave him a nudge. “Ani? Are you alive?”

“Maybe,” he slurred out.

I sighed and shook my head before reaching out and poking him again.

“You can’t sleep on the floor all night. You’ll hate yourself tomorrow.”

“I hate myself now,” he mumbled.

I chuckled at that, thinking about the hangover he’d have in the morning.

“Come on. Let me help you to bed.” I nudged him a few more times before he groaned and managed to sit up, swaying on his knees.

“Gosh, what did you guys do tonight? I thought it was just hanging out?” I struggled to get him to his feet. He stumbled along beside me before falling onto the bed, the smell of alcohol wafting off him.

“We hung out. What a fucked up night.” He groaned again as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it to the floor before fumbling with his pants.

Quickly, I averted my eyes as he pushed his pants off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He’d at least gotten his shoes off. I really hoped they were in the house and not on a curb somewhere.

“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” he said, getting to his feet.

I reached for him and helped him to the bathroom, where he collapsed at the toilet and heaved into it. While he was praying to the porcelain gods, I went to the sink, filled a cup with water, and dampened a washcloth before returning to him.