Page 73 of The Publicity Stunt

So I started forcing myself to stay awake. I wanted to tire myself, tire my brain, render it incapable of making me relive the scariest night of my life.

Holly would stay up with me. We would sit on my bed, wrapped in our blankets, babbling about nothing important, and eventually fall asleep together, arms around each other. Holly Moore was my first superhero. Hayden Parker was my second. Still is.

They both are.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but every time I woke up, Holly would be there. Hugging me, telling me it was all right even though she had no idea what “it” even was. Nor did I. Obviously, I knew what was happening—or, rather, what had happened—but my fear didn’t set from the pain of losing my birth parents. The only thing four-year-old April was scared of was being in a car accident. As an adult, the nightmare stayed the same, but the fear morphed into that of abandonment. The fear of being left alone in the blink of an eye. And I had so much more to lose now.

“Hol,” I say now and she tightens her hand over my thigh.

“It’s all right. It was a long time ago. I’m not the same moody teenager anymore.”

“You didn’t lose me to anyone,” I tell her. She nods. “And Parker wasn’t just another friend, you know that. I was in love with him.”

“Oh, believe me,” she says, her earlier snark making a slow comeback. “Everyone other than the two of you knew that.”

I smile. “Maybe one day, you’ll fall in love with someone and I’ll get a taste of my own medicine.”

She grimaces. “Have you met me? What part of me screams ‘girlfriend material’?”

“I’m sure we can find at least one.”

“Absolutely not,” she says. “I don’t want to give anyone the power over my happiness. Staying up late wondering if they’re thinking about me, waiting for a text back—fuck, no. I have enough problems as it is.”

“And what problems are these, exactly?”

The door of one of the ER rooms swings open and a familiar deep voice cuts through the somewhat silent hallway. “Holly?”

My sister groans. “I think you have your answer.”

Theo walks in our direction, one hand in the pocket of his dark-green trench coat, the other holding a—wait a damn second. “Fancy seeing you girls here,” he says.

“Is that—?” I point to the Captain Marvel tumbler in his hand. But before I get a chance to finish my question, he cuts me off.

“First bartending, now scavenging free food.” His attention stays put on Holly. “Is the hospital not paying you enough, Dr. Moore?”

“Oh, we paid for this,” I chime in. Holly shoots me a scathing look, one that saysReally? That’s our comeback?I sink in my seat.

Theo lowers his chin, trying to contain a smile. “My apologies.”

“Go away,” Holly utters point blank.

He doesn’t. Instead, he leans against the wall across from us, one leg crossed over the other, and slowly brings the tumbler up to his lips. Where have I seen that tumbler? “Love the outfit,” Theo tells her. “Is this what you wear to your weekly coven meetings?”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Theo looks her up and down. “Ravishing.”

“Yours was better than mine,” I butt in. “I went with bank robbery.”

If he’s even a little amused by my sense of humor, he doesn’t make it seem so. “Ah, my next guess.”

“We’re leaving,” Holly says, grabbing my arm.

“Uh-uh.” Theo steps in front of us, closing the distance between us in one long stride. “You’ve got something on your face,” he tells her.

Frowning, Holly brings her fingers to her mouth, trying to find the smushed chocolate-chip on the bottom right. I’m about to help, but right then Theo leans forward and grasps her chin, his thumb landing squarely on her bottom lip.

Holly’s breath catches.