Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,37

Instead, she places her hand over mine, giving it a firm squeeze.

A zap of electricity passes between us, a soft burn just underneath the skin. She must feel it too because she inhales sharply and tries to pull her hand out of mine, but I stop her before she can do it.

Turning my palm face-up, I grab her hand, intertwining our fingers. Her hand is smaller than mine, fingers slender, skin a few shades darker and so damn soft it should be illegal.

Lifting my eyes from our clasped hands, I find her watching me. Waiting. For what I’m not sure, but whatever it is, I don’t have it in me to give it to her. Everything that has happened in the past couple of hours has wiped me out completely, leaving me empty.

I hold her stare, and we stay like that. Sitting quietly in the darkness, the only connection our locked hands and unswerving gazes.

I’m not sure for how long, but it doesn’t matter. Because in the middle of the storm that’s raging around me, she’s my anchor, holding me together and offering silent understanding I’m not sure I deserve but will take nonetheless.

I don’t want to let go, but when I see her yawn for the second time, I give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“You don’t have to…” she starts to protest but I hoist her up to her feet.

“You’re tired, you should get some rest.” I look at the darkness over her shoulder. “I can’t take you back. Not tonight, but if you want to…”

“We can stay here. I don’t mind.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod my head. “Thank you, Yasmin.”

“No thanks needed.”

Still holding onto her hand, I lead her upstairs and down the hallway. I creak open the first door on the left and enter, flicking the switch on.

The room is almost exactly the same as I left it, not a thing moved from its place or replaced. The same blue walls with posters of my favorite players plastered all over them. Some have been up so long that the paper has turned yellow and one corner isn’t holding onto the walls anymore. A bookcase that holds more football trophies than books. An empty desk in the corner with a closet just beside it. A king-sized bed that takes up most of the room, with clean, plain white bedsheets already covering the mattress. A dresser opposite the bed with a big TV just above it.

“This is your room,” Yasmin points out, her eyes taking in the space. I wonder what she sees when she looks at it.

“I’ll take the couch,” I say, shrugging.

“I’m not taking…”

“You’ll sleep here.” My sharp words piss her off, I can see it clearly in the stubborn tilt of her chin, so I offer more gently, “I’ll probably go to my mom’s room to keep an eye on her. She’s trying to pretend it’s all okay, but I know it’s not. She’s getting worse every day.”

Yasmin exhales, her face softening. “Who’s staying with her?”

“Jade mostly. We hired a nurse to come and help around the house when she’s in school. I wanted to stay home when Mom was first diagnosed in summer, take a year off, but she didn’t want to hear it.” I can still remember how pissed off she was at me, demanding I pack my shit and go back to campus. I still think if I hadn’t listened to her, she’d have thrown my stuff and me out of the window and locked the door so I couldn’t come back inside. I shake my head, pushing the memory away. “Anyway, we probably won’t be able to leave straight away. I’ll have to make some calls, talk to the hospice to hire help around the clock. I don’t want Jade scared like this in the future.”

I don’t want to be scared like that, but I don’t say it out loud. I feel that if I do, it’ll make it all that more real.

“That’s okay, no rush.”

I lift my brows. “Busy bee Yasmin Hernandez doesn’t have any plans for tomorrow?”

She elbows me in the ribs. “I have plans, thank you very much. But it’s nothing that can’t wait a few hours. Besides, you promised to check out my car. Don’t think I forgot about that.”

Reluctantly, one side of my lips tips up. “Duly noted.” Another yawn breaks out, and she covers her mouth with her free hand to stifle it. “C’mon. Off to bed.”

Letting go

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