by the doctor that I’m allowed to, and according to good ’ol Doctor Cohen, there’s really nothing that I can do about the memory loss—even though he’s so keen to assure me it’ll come back.
Eventually.
Declan narrows his eyes. But instead of giving me empty reassurances or trying to tell me everything will be better soon, he says something that actually makes me smile.
“You wanna go smoke?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
I speak so quickly that he laughs, his full lips parting around the sound. “Thought you might.”
Smoking with Declan sounds just about perfect. I’ve missed our little joint and deep shit meetings on the stairs in various buildings around campus, and something a little normal might do me a world of good right now.
Declan’s eyes gleam warmly as he helps me out of the bed. They finally took the IV out last night, so I’m free to move around, but after not walking much for a couple days, my thighs are a little wobbly.
“You okay there?” he asks, steadying me with his hand on my forearm.
I grip him for support and give a small nod. “I’ll be good once we start walking,” I say, despite the fact that my head spins a little.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, of course.” I don’t want him to change his mind or get all protective, so I prove my words by heading toward the door.
Okay, so I’m a little slower than normal. But it’s probably to be expected after an injury like mine, then being in bed for nearly a week. As we head out of the room and down the hallways, my steps become a bit more steady, but Declan still hovers close by. My sprained ankle has been improving quickly, and I only favor that side a little as I walk.
I can feel the heat of his body when he brushes up against me, and it sends a shiver through me. Funny how that happens—the physical reaction to his heat is a delicious chill over my skin.
I like it.
When we step onto an elevator, Declan pulls a card out of his pocket and inserts it into a reader above the elevator buttons. He presses the top button, and the doors close before the elevator starts to rise. When I catch his gaze, I cock an eyebrow.
“What?” He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking only a little guilty.
“Where did you get that?” I gesture toward the card. I know enough about rich people by now to know those cards must be the only way to get access to certain floors, one of which we’re probably going to.
He grins. “I can get whatever I want around here by dropping the Windham name. My dad’s a big donor to the hospital.” He shoves the key back into his pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll like where we’re going.”
As long as it’s not my sterile little room, I think, I’m sure I’ll be happy anywhere.
A moment of silence passes as the elevator slides smoothly upward, but it’s a comfortable sort of quiet—the kind I only feel when I’m around him. There’s something between us that requires no small talk, no conversation at all, to feel at ease. I’m not really sure what it is, but I also know I don’t need to figure it out. I’m content with just knowing I feel okay with him. Chill.
I’ll never forget that Declan was the first of the Sinners to make me feel comfortable, even welcome, after my arrival at Hawthorne. Those stolen moments on the stairs when it was just me and him helped me get through all of the other bullshit in the beginning.
When the elevator doors open, much to my surprise, I catch a beautiful expanse of blue sky with fluffy clouds scattered about, seemingly endless miles of fresh air and sunshine. Judging by the fact that we step out onto concrete and tastefully hidden cables running along the roof, I know this place isn’t formal access for elite clients. It’s just the fucking rooftop, with access probably intended only for maintenance, but I love it.
I’m not even sure how he knew he could get up here with that card, but as the cool breeze brushes over my skin and plays with the blue strands in my hair, I’m sure as hell not complaining. This is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
“Over here,” Declan murmurs, showing me to a spot on the edge of the roof where a brick wall makes a little alcove and we can dangle our feet over