I press my face into his solar plexus and I feel his warm hands on my nape. He threads his free arm through the wires and cups my back. I’m carrying the sensation of this squeeze around for the rest of my life.
“Tom, are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Tom says. “I’m sorry, guys,” he tries, but we both shush him desperately. Jamie is feeling left out and squeezes onto the examination table beside me. We’re just two little blond birds, looking up at Tom like we need him to survive. Oh wait. We do.
“But I completely—” he tries again, and we shake our heads. “I just totally—”
“We don’t care,” Jamie says, silencing him. “We don’t care. You’re back. That’s everything. Please make my sister stay alive. By any means necessary.”
“What does she need to stay alive?”
“You,” Jamie says simply. It’s one word, but it’s a powerful one; Tom looks at him sharply, like he can’t believe what he’s heard.
“You,” I echo. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I thought I’d fucked up beyond forgiveness. So I just drove. I guess I just left town. Maybe I am like my father.” Tom sighs and rubs his face. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been scared of my entire life. That I’m like him.”
“You’re not,” I counter. I rub his forearm. “Is that why you’ve been trying harder than any living human being, your entire life?” He shrugs and I know I’m right.
“You left Patty,” Jamie says with a little accusation. “We thought you’d gone and driven your gorgeous ass into a canyon.”
Tom laughs, even as his hands smooth over me, calming the terror that has the heart monitor squeaking. “Patty needed a beach vacation. Old girl looked all worn out.”
“Ditto,” I groan as his nails scratch in gentle circles on the side of my neck. “Tom, I nearly died without you. Dr. Galdon is about to confirm it.”
“Yeah, where is he? I’ll go get him.” Jamie walks out with a frown on his brow, closing the door behind him. Holy crap. He just left a room so we could be alone. My heart is pipping so much that Tom looks sideways with concern.
“Settle down.” His warm palms are on my jaw, and he’s drinking in my face. A perfect kiss is pressed onto my mouth. It’s soft and kind, like a friend. “I died without you, too.”
“We’ve done so much work,” I say, trying to bring him back again for a longer kiss. “Wait till you see.” He evades my lips.
“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” he says with a wince. “I’ll fix everything. I won’t sleep until it’s perfect.”
“I don’t mean the house. It’s fine. Colin’s been the site manager, and I’ve been his deputy. Jamie cut a bunch of costs and the budget is on track. Silly,” I admonish him gently, rubbing him on the arm. “We can fix everything for you.”
“That’s all you guys ever try to do,” he groans guiltily.
“What I meant was that Jamie and I have been working on ourselves. We’ve been renovating in here.” I pick up his palm and press it against my heart, over the monitor pads. “We are going to be working on ourselves for a long time. To make sure we never make you run away again. Where did you go?”
“I think I pretended you were sitting in the passenger seat beside me, and I just . . . drove. We’ve been a lot of places. We took the backroads, stayed in cheap motels, and one really expensive one. The beach. A really great diner that I’m taking you to for real—” His glow fades out, like he’s remembering it’s impossible.
“Take me there.”
“But about your passport—”
“Don’t care.” I manage to get a hand behind his neck and pull him down. My heart is about to turn inside out when we kiss, our mouths open, and we taste each other again. He’s sweeter than sugar, more delicious than anything I’ve ever experienced. My every birthday-candle wish.
“But it’s unforgivable,” he argues back as he lifts his mouth, and ends on a succulent bite of my lower lip. “It was the worst lie I’ve ever told you—”
“When you said you couldn’t do this anymore? That was the worst lie. It was a lie, right?” I gasp when his hands cup my throat, warmer, tighter, and the next kiss is electric. I’m surprised I don’t blow up the heart monitor. It’s tongue and biting and exhaling and wanting. So much wanting.
“You still want me? Even though I’m a screwup?” he asks as he lifts his head, and there’s that dark, dangerous glint that only I can recognize. Everyone else sees a mild-mannered sweetheart. But right here, in these moments between us, he’s my Valeska. The one I’ve always needed beside me, every step that I take.
“One hundred percent mine.”
He considers that, then maybe he remembers the desperate hug that my brother gave me. He tips his head toward the door. “Better let him have one percent of me.” He smiles, and I laugh.
“Okay. Ninety-nine percent mine. That’s got a nice ring to it. Never say that I’m not open to negotiation. Now. I’m going to tell you exactly how much I love you.”