Cam sent him a middle finger. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Be logical then. How would that T-shirt be mine?”
“Because it smells familiar—you know what? Never fucking mind.” Cam sat down, ignoring Rubi’s continuing stare, seeking solace in mine, but finding none. “I know what you both want, but I can’t tell you shit right now. I don’t have the fucking brain cells.”
“All right, mate.” Rubi shrugged, turning away, leaving Cam in the cold. But he didn’t have the heart to ice Cam out for long. He stood and gave Cam the gentlest of hugs. “Did you at least buy the wagon you went to look at?”
“Nah. It was shite.”
“Fuck’s sake. We’re gonna be stuck with the bone rattler forever.”
“I thought you liked it?”
“Not me.” Rubi jabbed a finger at the door where Saint and Mateo lurked. “I’m not the onesentimentalabout the back seats?—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
A paper cup collided with Rubi’s face, propelled by Mateo with perfect aim. It was a moment that begged for Nash’s infectious laugh, and I felt his absence so horrendously that I couldn’t stay in my seat.
Longing for Locke drew me to the window. I scanned the view for any sign of him and Logan, but the car park was distinctly absent of Thor-sized twins, and Imissedhim. I was surrounded by my closest brothers, but I felt alone.
I drifted out of the room, aware of Saint emerging from the shadows and following me. The hospital corridor was a nasty shade of pastel blue, children’s artwork on the walls. A chalk drawing of an acoustic guitar hung over the emergency exit, punctuation between the heavy door and the fire alarm. I stared at it, then shifted my gaze to the alarm, imagining a world where I could reset my life to this morning. What would I say to the people I loved? What would Idoto redraw a world where none of this had happened?
It needed to happen.That’s what I’d always told myself. That every shitastic thing that scarred us happened for a reason bigger than I’d ever understand, but with the smell of bleach and death heavy in the air, that level of philosophy was hard to find.
“Queenie.”
My heart jumped.
I whirled around.
Saint was gone and Locke filled the space behind me, his bloodshot eyes calmer than they’d been all night. His big hands came to my face, his gaze taking me hostage where I stood. “I’m sorry I left you. I needed a fuckin’ minute.”
“It’s okay.” His touch made me sway on my feet. “You didn’t go far. I saw you.”
For the most part, anyway. And I saw him now, standing tall with the parts of him that had been absent the past few weeks. The only thing missing was Nash. “The doctor came.”
“I know. Lo filled me in.”
“Lo?”
Locke moved aside.
Logan was right there, same eyes, same build, but shorter, darker hair, and no tattoos. “Hey.”
I blinked. “Hey.”
A beat passed. Then he opened his big arms and I stepped into them.
Logan wasn’t smokey enough to smell like Locke.
But he felt like him. Solid. Warm. He felt as much like home as the other special men in my life, and I allowed myself a moment to appreciate that. To appreciatehim. I would love this man. And he’d love me. All we needed was time—something Nash had nearly lost tonight forever.
I drew back from Logan. “You were with him? Did he say anything?”
Logan regarded me with eyes a shade more serious than Locke’s. “He was talking for most of the time I was there. About sandwiches, mainly. He was hungry.”
I made a sound that could’ve been a laugh. “He was hungry the minute he woke up from appendix surgery. It’s a good sign, isn’t it?”