“It’s not worth my time,” I say with mock disdain, finally finding the damn app. I hand it to her with a sigh. “Here. Save me from myself.”
She takes it, her fingers brushing mine.
“There might be a few photos in there that are… questionable,” I warn, one brow lifted. “But in my defense, you took most of them. So technically, I’m innocent.”
Her eyes flash with humor—and something more. Something I’ve missed for so damn long.
She hesitates, then takes the phone, her hand shaking. The second her eyes hit the screen, her breath catches. Her free hand flies to her mouth to muffle the sob.
I reach for her instinctively—but freeze, my hand hovering.
“Mac—”
“No,” she whispers, shaking her head, eyes locked on the screen. “I need to see this.”
I nod, even though every part of me is screaming to hold her.
She swipes. Then again. Silent. The tears come fast, trailing down her cheeks like memories finally catching up.
I know what she’s seeing. Braden laughing. His arm slung over her shoulders. The three of us grinning on a beach somewhere, sunburnt and stupid happy. A blurry shot of the backseat of a car after a gig—Braden flipping me off, Mac rolling her eyes, me smiling so big it hurts.
Then she stops.
Her breath hitches, fingers frozen.
Us.
She’s asleep on my chest, her body curled into mine like she belongs there. Hair a wild mess over my skin, my arm slung around her bare back.
Her body tenses. The blush rises up her neck, blooming in her cheeks.
She lifts her gaze to mine, her voice barely a whisper. “We were…”
“Yeah,” I say softly.
She looks back at the screen, at the proof of something real—something I would give anything for her to remember.
She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Just stares at it like maybe, just maybe, some part of her remembers after all.
Her hand moves to her neck, fingers drifting to the delicate chain resting there.
The necklace I gave her.
The one she wasn’t wearing before the accident. The one I clasped around her neck while she lay unconscious in that hospital bed, because even then, I couldn’t bear the thought of her waking up without something—anything—of me.
My throat tightens as I watch her thumb graze one of the charms.
Like some part of her knows.
Like maybe I’m not so far away after all.
Chapter 3
Kayla
Ishift on the stiff hospital bed and instantly regret it. Pain lances down my side, sharp and unforgiving, and a wince escapes before I can bite it back. Logan’s hand finds mine in an instant—warm, steady, grounding. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to. He just stays close, like he’s afraid if he lets go, I’ll disappear again.
His silence says everything.
