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Bre
“Coffee?” he asked with a smile.
“Sure,” she said. “Lots of cream and sugar though.”
He laughed again, obliging. After pouring his own coffee, he took the seat across from her, and they ate in comfortable silence. Last night felt like a lifetime ago. But Bre
Despite his protests, Devon helped Bre
A couple minutes later, Bre
They sat like this through the mindless television show. Devon couldn’t have told anyone what happened on the show, but she knew the rhythm of Bre
When the show ended, Devon shifted to reach for the remote, but Bre
“I love your hair,” he said, ru
His hand brushed her hair to expose her neck, his fingers trailing lightly across her skin. Her breathing turned shallow, and her eyes darted to his lips and then back to his eyes.
“I love your big blue eyes, and the way they can find me in a crowd even when you don’t mean to. I love your lips that you constantly bite out of frustration, that you suck on when you’re writing lyrics in your journal, that you pucker when deciding on what to order.”
Devon swallowed. She couldn’t breathe.
He leaned forward, cupping her chin with his hand. “I really love your lips,” he whispered softly before pressing his lips against hers.
This time, Devon sighed into him, not even thinking about pulling away. She was lost—mind, body, and soul—to the man before her. Somehow, along the way, he had captured not just her lips but all of her. How had she evaded him for so long?
His tongue stroked her bottom lip and opened her mouth. She met him tentatively at first, and then she wholly indulged in the feel of him. Her senses intensified all at once, feeling the softness of his lips against hers, the calluses on his hands touching her skin, his taut body pressing into her. His scent clouded her mind, and she forced herself not to move too fast. His fingers moved to knot in her long hair, and she moaned lightly into his mouth.
Being kissed this way was like tasting the first strawberry of the season—so sweet and way better than you ever remember.
They remained kissing leisurely, distractedly, happily until Bre
Bre
She had turned off her phone last night because she hadn’t wanted to be disturbed. Mostly, she hadn’t wanted Garrett to call her. When the screen brightened and finally reached a signal, her phone lit up with messages, missed calls, and voice mails.
What the hell? she thought, clicking on the first message.
She had expected Garrett to leave one or two texts and maybe a voice mail, asking her to come back. Maybe he would even apologize for his behavior. But thirty-two messages and five voice mails? That was just absurd. What was his problem?
Devon didn’t even want to read the messages. She clicked out of them and turned to the voice mails. These were all from this morning. She shrugged and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Devon, you might hate me, but answer your phone!”
She stopped the message, not willing to hear the rest. The next one started playing right after that.
“It’s Hadley. She’s in the hospital. She’s at Northwestern Memorial. I don’t care if you hate me, but think of Hadley.”
The voice mail ended, and Devon stared down at her phone in shock. All the softness and ease of being with Bre
Devon jumped off the couch in a rush, throwing her phone into her purse. She slammed her hand down on the bathroom door just as the shower shut off. Bre
Then, she shook her head and reminded herself what was really important. “Hadley,” she gasped out. “Garrett called, and she’s in the hospital.”
“What?” he cried, rushing past her. “What hospital?”
“Northwestern Memorial.”
“That’s not far from here,” he told her. “Let me throw on some clothes, and we’ll go. I’ll call Je
Devon wasn’t sure why, but her mind focused on the strangest things under stress. Bre
BRENNAN KNEW HIS way around Northwestern Memorial better than Devon thought most people should be able to maneuver a hospital. Devon was anxious and kept bumping into him as they walked through the building. The ride over had been extremely short. She had almost felt bad taking a car, considering the L wouldn’t have been much more effort. But she did enjoy watching him, albeit reluctantly under the circumstances, driving his little Jetta Hybrid through the busy streets with his Wayfarers on.
He found what he was looking for and approached a desk with a lanky man standing behind it. “Excuse me, we’re here to see Hadley Bishop,” Bre
The man sca
“Thanks, I know the way,” Bre
Devon followed at his heels, wringing her hands like a maniac. She wished she had a pen to flip, but she had already checked in her bag, and she didn’t find one. Bre
He steadied her before they walked to the nurses’ station. “Do you know what she’s here for?” he asked.
“Well, I have a guess.”
Bre
“I know,” she whispered, staring down.
“Are you ready for this?” He rubbed her arm.
“I don’t know.”
“I wish you didn’t have to see her this way. This isn’t like her. She should have never overdosed.”