Bounce (36 page)

Skyler

W
aking is like slowly unwrapping layers of gauze. It takes forever, the light behind my closed eyes growing brighter a second at a time. I'm drowsy and floating, and it feels so good, like backstroking through a warm sea, but I know I can't remain in this dreamy place.

Finally, I open my eyes. For a second, I think I'm still dreaming because Grey is next to me, sitting in a chair pulled up to the bed, his expression serious and intense.

“Grey?” It comes out as a whisper.

He gives me a smile that's so big and openhearted I want to cry. He's here. I can't believe he's here.

“There you are,” he says. “Welcome back.”

“What—” I try to say something more, but my throat feels like it's been sandpapered. I reach out for him and see a bandage on my hand and a tube extending down to an IV pole and a bag of clear fluids. Panic rushes through me. What's wrong with me? What happened?

“I'll get you some water,” another voice says, and I turn my head to find Mia sitting in a chair on the side of the bed opposite Grey. Her tawny skin is sallow, her eyes red-rimmed and shadowed.

She rises and pours some water from a pitcher.

“Let me help you.” Grey pops out of his chair so fast, it topples over. He fishes around behind my pillow, and his warm scent—soap and sea—washes over me. I still can't put it together that he's here. That I'm here in a hospital.

He finds the bed's remote control and raises the mattress. His huge warm hand settles for just a second on my collarbone, strokes the skin there. His touch anchors me and buoys me at the same time. I want him to climb into bed with me. Want to wrap myself in his strength.

Mia brings me the cup, and I sip. Then drink and ask for more.

“The doctor said to go easy,” she tells me. “You don't want to get sick. But here's a little more.”

I drink another half a cup and try to speak again. “What happened? Why am I here?”

Random memories flare in my mind. Running down a hotel corridor toward the camera. Then needing to stop, the walls closing in on me, the breath leaving my lungs. People crouched over me. Worried faces. A nurse wrapping a blood pressure cuff around me in the middle of the night. But not much else.

“You passed out, Sky,” Mia tells me. She brushes my hair away from my face. “You . . . ​just went down.” She starts to tear. “You really scared us.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No,
I'm
sorry. I should have paid more attention. I didn't realize you were getting sick.”

“What's wrong with me?”

“Exhaustion and dehydration,” she says. “Also, you're a little anemic, and your blood pressure was super low. That's what made you pass out.”

“But you'll be okay,” Grey says. “You just have to take care of yourself. Eat. And rest.” Again, he gives me this sweet, fierce look that makes me want to give him anything he wants.

“I will. I'm so sorry.”

“Seriously, don't apologize,” he says. “Whoever gave you those fucking pills and worked you eighteen hours a day should apologize.”

“It's not their fault. No one forced me to do anything. I could have said no. Or said it was all too much.”

“Well, I guess your body said it for you,” Mia says, with a sad smile. “But you'll be all right.” She refills my cup and hands it back to me. “I'll let everyone know you're awake and doing better. And I'll go track down your doctor for you.”

“Can you, um, give us a few minutes?” Grey asks. “I want to talk to Sky for a second.”

Mia looks at me, and I nod. I want to talk to him, too, though I don't know what I want to say. It just means so much that he's here.

“Okay,” she says. “I'll go find some coffee in the hospital café. Will let people know you're awake when I come back up. That'll buy you a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” says Grey.

She goes. And for a second, Grey and I just look at each other.

Finally, he sits back down and closes his hand over my wrist. He squeezes, gently, and I can feel the intersection of our two pulses. “Do you remember asking for me?”

“I asked for you?”

“That's what they said. That you wanted to see me.”

I try to remember, and it comes back as a feeling more than a literal memory. I can remember lying back against the pillows, crying and so weak I could barely move a muscle. Even my eyes. And I remember wanting Grey with me more than anything. Missing him so much I could barely breathe.

“I'm so glad you came,” I tell him. “I can't believe you flew like a million hours to see me.”

“I would have flown a
trillion
hours to see you. You know that.”

“You're such a good person, Grey. I hope
you
know
that
.”

With a shrug he says, “I'm working on it. But I didn't come here because I'm a good person. I came here because I had to. Whether you asked for me or not.”

I can't pretend not to know what it all means. That I wanted him more than anyone else. That he wanted to be here more than anything else. It doesn't matter if he's younger than me or a musician or still figuring things out. It doesn't matter that we're wrong on paper, that Brooks and I make more sense. He's here. And I want him here.

I just want him. Plain and simple. I want him.

“Grey.” I put my hand over his, hold on tight. “Will you stay?”

“Of course. I'm not going anywhere.”

“No. I mean, will you be with me? Like
with
me?”

He doesn't move for a long moment. Just stares at me with those steady, slate-colored eyes, like he's absorbing what I said. The muscles in his neck roll as he swallows. “What about Brooks?” he says finally, his voice deep and hoarse.

“I'll talk to Brooks. He'll be fine. What matters is this.” I squeeze his hand between my two. “It's just . . . ​it's everything. You're . . . ​everything to me, Grey. I don't know how else to say it.”

“That was perfect.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my palm, bandage, tubes, and all. “It's the best thing I've heard in months. Or . . . ​ever.”

Being this close, saying these things, I can feel my strength building, feel myself knitting back together. It's not that he makes me strong or whole. It's that with him, I remember how strong and whole I am.

“I want to kiss you so fucking much,” I tell him, “but my mouth tastes like a nuclear waste dump right now.”

He laughs, making the bed shake. “I guess we're going to have to wrestle over who's most romantic.” Rising again, he says, “Let me see what we've got.”

I hear some rustling around, and he comes back with two sticks of gum from my purse. “This'll have to do.”

We unwrap the gum like we're getting undressed, giggling, our eyes locked together.

“Cheers,” he says, and taps his stick against mine.

“Cheers.”

Grey pops a piece in his mouth, and I do the same.

“This is the sexiest gum I've ever chewed,” he tells me.

“No kidding.” I pat the bed next to me. “I think you need to climb on up here.”

“I'm scared I'll break it. Or rip out your IV.”

“I'm scared you won't get your ass on this bed.”

“You win.” He comes around to the other side, and he lowers the rail like he's done it a hundred times. Then he slides half onto the bed, careful not to crush me or dislodge anything. “Okay.” We get our arms and various tubes and pillows sorted, and then we take out our gum, and it's the least romantic thing ever but romantic for just that reason. Because with him it doesn't matter if I'm in a hospital gown. If I'm not perfect. With him, it all falls away. The bed, the sounds and scents of the hospital. It's just Grey, his firm, full lips on my own, his mint-scented tongue sweeping over mine. I pull him against me, as close as he can get, my hands bracing against the broad expanse of his muscular back.

It's awkward and messy but as real and truthful as it gets. Just Grey and me, holding each other, squeezed together in this tiny bed, pulling tubes and remotes out from under us, laughing and touching and kissing—lightly, so lightly. He's still gentle with me, and I need that now. But I can't wait to get my strength back again. The things I plan to do to this boy.

A knock on the door interrupts us, and we break apart, laughing.

“Shit,” Grey mutters, scrubbing at his short punky hair. “We might have gotten a little carried away.”

“Just a little.”

Mia enters the room just as he sits back in the chair, but it's evident from the look on her face that we're completely busted. “Sorry to interrupt,” she says, “But the doctor's going to come by in just a few. Also, Brooks asked to see you.”

Grey looks at me. “Want me to stay here while you talk to him?”

I shake my head. “No. I'll take care of it. I promise.”

He nods. “Okay. Do you need anything? Real food? Change of clothes? What can I do?”

You can bar the door and climb back in this bed, I want to say. But I feel the toll those last few moments took on me. It's scary to think how much harm I've done to myself while believing I was making perfectly sound choices.

“I don't need anything,” I tell him. “Except maybe more gum.”

He laughs and heads for the door. “I'll dig up a twelve-pack.”

My face hurts from smiling, and when I turn back, Mia's beaming at me, her green eyes positively shining.

“So, that's a thing now, huh?”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “I'm pretty sure it's been a thing all along.”

“I'm pretty sure it has, too,” she says. “I'm glad, Sky. He's crazy about you. And I like how he always asks about you. How he wants to care for you. I think you need that since you care for everyone else.”

I nod. But I know I have to do less of that anyway. Maybe I don't have to be the yes-girl, after all. Maybe I can be the sometimes girl. The not-now girl.

“Hey, Mia,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Tell Brooks I'll see him now. And maybe give us a few.”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “You sure you want to tackle that right now, Sky? You're still pretty worn out.”

I nod. “I know, but I'll feel better if I just take care of it.”

“Okay,” she says. “I'll go get him.”

She heads back to the hospital room door, and I straighten up in bed, smooth my gown and blankets over me. I take another sip of water and then fold my hands in my lap and wait for Brooks.

  
Chapter 41
  

Grey

L
et me get this straight. You're on your way to becoming a homeowner, you're shedding your irresponsible, jackass persona, and settling down with a girl, but you've forgone your dream in the process?” Adam takes a sip of his beer and shakes his head. “I have to say, I'm not sure it's a good trade.”

We're walking on the beach on the hotel property. Skyler's been released from the small island hospital and transferred back here. She's up in her room sleeping right now. The rest of the crew left this morning. Only Mia, Garrett, Adam, and Alison, who came in a few days ago, are still on the island.

I take a sip of my beer, which is warm, as warm as the tropical air that's tugging at my t-shirt and rustling through the palm trees, paving the way for a storm that'll hit sometime tonight. “Yes to the homeowner and girl comments. As far as giving up my jackass persona, sorry to disappoint. And forgoing my dream? Postponing, more like.”

I knew what I was doing by coming here. Rez has sent Vogelson a few messages letting him know the situation, but the guy won't even reply. Not surprising. We probably look irresponsible and like a terrible investment if we can't even show up for the audition.

I've talked to each of the guys in the band. They've all been cool on the phone, but I know they're probably hugely disappointed. In a way, it's like we're back to square one. But it doesn't quite
feel
like square one. We've come together as a band over the past weeks. We've gained something. It has nothing to do with the showcase.