The weekend was beyond words.
There were no other words for it. Clarissa couldn’t get over the me+Caden thing. That’s what she kept calling it. The thing.
I knew part of that was because I refused to give her a label, mainly because Caden and I never got back to that conversation. I didn’t want to stick a title on us he wouldn’t agree with, so Clarissa made it “the thing.”
She kept it up right until the moment we got back in the Land Rover and drove away, and I was okay with it, I’d decided. It was loose, elusive, mysterious. It couldn’t be pinned down. Free.
Did I mention loose? Like, it could run away? That’s what being free meant too. Free to go away. Free not to stick around. Free to be not committed—and I was working myself up again.
Caden wasn’t that type of guy. He hadn’t been all weekend. He’d been tentative, kind, considerate, tender, amazing, wonderful, and the kind of guy a girl like me didn’t end up with. Cue my paranoia. I felt a ride coming soon.
The phone interrupted my emotional roller coaster ride through my dorm room. I picked it up, sighing from relief. “Hello?”
A male voice replied, “I can pick up my little brother.”
“What? Caden?”
Oh, man. He sounded so wonderful. Warm. Strong. Steady. Not crazy like me.
“Yeah. I was calling to tell you the doctor released Colton.”
“Oh.” I dropped the phone this time. Shit. Fuck. I grabbed for it, sitting down on my chair. “Sorry. Are you going to get him?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to come?”
And my brains were scrambled once again. “Are you serious?”
“Apparently Marcus called Colton yesterday, and you were a big topic between them. Colt’s insisting you come. He doesn’t care about the circumstances.”
“I…” had no idea what to say. “Is that—I mean—he’s okay to be around someone who’s not family?”
“He doesn’t care, honestly. Once he found out you’d been at the hospital the entire night, his mind was made up. He said you’re a girl he has to meet, said you had meat.”
“Meet? Like meet and greet?”
“No. Meat like beef or chicken.”
“Oh.” I chuckled, thinking about that. “He sounds kind of funny.”
“He is. He still has that.” He paused for a beat. “Do you want to come with then? It’s last minute, but I’m going right now.”
“Yes!” I didn’t need to think about it. “Of course.”
“Good, because I’m outside your room.”
“What?”
I looked over, and at the same time, the door opened. Caden stood there, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He gave me a smile that had my heart skipping a beat and my stomach flip-flopping.
I hoped that’d never go away.
I put on a big smile, maybe with a little extra oomph because I saw the dark shadows in his eyes, and I went over to him. “Hey.”
And like it was the most natural thing in the world, he lifted his arm and I stepped into his embrace. My head went to his chest, my cheek against his heart, and his arms closed over me, holding me to him.
The most natural thing in the world, like breathing.
“Thank you,” he said.
I looked up. “I’m honored to be asked.”
He was tense, but he tried to smile back. It faltered. “Colton is…” He stopped.
I shook my head. “You don’t have to say anything. You love him. That says it all.”
He cracked a grin. “That’s really cheesy.”
“I don’t care.” I didn’t. It was the truth.
I didn’t know anything about head injuries, but I’d done some research over the weekend. I snuck it in when there were moments of quiet, which had been few and far between. Some of the testaments I read on the internet broke my heart, and I ached, thinking that Caden’s brother was going through something similar.
I was nervous too.
The feeling didn’t go away. Half an hour later, I was sitting in the parking lot, waiting in the Land Rover as Caden went inside to get Colton. I tapped my foot on the floor. I tugged on my shirt. I pulled on some loose threads, and if I kept going, my shirt would probably unravel from the bottom up.
I’d been there ten minutes when another truck wheeled into the spot next to me. I looked over to find Marcus. He was alone, and he held a hand up in a hello, but he was just as tense as Caden—more than Caden. His face was a little green.
When he got out, I rolled my window down. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”
He grimaced, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I don’t know if it’s from this, or if I actually am sick. I think Avery got sick from the weekend. She was puking this morning when I left.”