Page 22 of Crash

Then, like some cosmic timing I couldn’t have scripted better, Blake edged into the room, his arms hanging uncertain at his sides. The sunlight caught his dark hair, turning the edges almost golden, and for the first time today, his doctor mask was completely gone. In its place was just … Blake.

My Blake, his voice all deep and dramatic as he said, “Can we talk?”

15

TESSA

“I, er … have an emergency date with a television.” Scarlett stood and patted my shin. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Thank you, Scarlett. For everything.”For being there, for not judging, for understanding.

“Don’t mention it.” She walked off with the nurse, and behind Blake’s back, she gave me an exaggerated thumbs-up and mouthed,Good luck.

I didn’t need luck; I needed a time machine to transport me back to the before. Before I ruined everything between me and Blake. Before I learned how it felt to be carved out of someone’s life. Before my stupid heart decided to stop beating in his ER.

Once she was gone, Blake took a tentative step closer, his eyes flickering to the empty chair, a muscle working in his jaw. “Did the boyfriend leave?”

“Ex-boyfriend.” I focused on smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from my blanket rather than the way his jaw tightened at the word. “And yes.”

He nodded, uncertainty playing across his features, visible in the slight hardening of his chest, his eyes more vulnerable than they’d been earlier.

“You’re right. We should talk about what happened between us,” he suggested.

I could only hope that talking about everything wouldn’t make it worse because the truth was, I couldn’t bear to lose him twice. Not today. Not when my body had already betrayed me in the most fundamental way possible.

“I owe you an explanation.” His voice dropped low, intimate. “I never meant for our friendship to stop, Tessa. I never stopped caring about you.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to launch into some speech, perhaps one he’d practiced multiple times in his head, but his damn pager beeped. Again. He looked at it, his face saying it all.

“Dammit!” Blake said. He looked visibly frustrated, hands sweeping through his hair. “This conversation is too important to rush.”

“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile. “Go.”

“How about we have coffee when you’re discharged?”

I eyed him.

“We can talk without interruption.”

“Sure,” I agreed.

He reread the page. “I have a few minutes before I need to leave, and we need to go over your medical history. It’ll help us figure out which tests to run.”

He pulled up the chair Scarlett had vacated, the legs scraping against linoleum, making it clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer either.

I swear, my freaking body could feel his presence, even with my eyes closed. Some kind of current existed in the space between us, pulling me into his orbit, no matter how much I fought it.

“Now, please,” he said, sinking down, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned closer to me, “tell me everything.”

It wasn’t lost on me: his word choice, how he’d flipped from medical jargon to Blake speak.

“It’s a little ironic, don’t you think?” My lips curled into a sad smile.

“What is?”

“You’ve never wanted to tell me anything about your life. But now you’re asking me to tell you everything about mine.”

He’d never talked about his sister, Faith, or why she’d wound up in a different foster home than him. A different school district, so I’d never even met her. And he never talked about the years of darkness that must have surrounded that chapter in his life.