I wish I could have a talk with my lungs. Did you know the mortality rate for rejecting the heart among transplant recipients is less than 10 percent for after five years? I’ve got that on my side, but the most common death after that magic five-year mark?
Infection from weakened immune systems. And cancer. It’s like living in a constant state of alert. Or, in my case, living out your temporary life until your heart decides it’s time to let go.
He hands me a note. “This is from Kylo.”
Smiling, I open the note he wrote on a napkin. Feel bedder soon. It looks as if a child wrote it, and better is spelled wrong. “He spelled it wrong.” I turn the note for Avie to see.
He frowns, shaking his head. “I know. He signed his paycheck ‘sign here’.”
“Like literally sign here?”
“Yep. Torrie down at the bank got a good laugh out of it and thankfully cashed it for the dumbass.”
Lifting my hand to brush my hair from my face, I accidentally knock over the incentive spirometer they gave me to get me to take deep breaths and help my lungs clear. “It’s nice of you that you keep him around.”
Avie reaches down and picks it up, placing it back on the table beside me. “He doesn’t have anyone else.” There’s a sadness to his eyes when he says that. I didn’t have anyone but him and he left the life he had planned for me. You can say what you want about Avie—he’s too hard, he’s an asshole, he’s whatever—but he’s loyal. That trait right there is difficult to find.
“Avie?” His eyes meet mine. “If you feel anything for Presley, tell her. I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong, and it’s a really shitty feeling. Don’t do that to her. Just be honest with her.”
He nods. “I’ll talk to her.” He looks at the heart monitor. “It’s going to be okay, or not.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking know.”
He doesn’t exactly tell me how he feels about her, but he doesn’t deny something’s there. I’m hopeful, but I’m also not going to pressure him.
He turns his head toward me, one eye hidden behind his hair. “What’s with you and the fisherman?”
“What are you talking about?”
He chews on the corner of his mouth as he studies me. “Mal said he came to the bar and asked about you.”
My cheeks blaze, and it’s not from the fever. I feel as if my entire body bursts into flames and spreads like wildfire to my extremities. Avie’s eyes dart to my heart monitor again, and I don’t have to look to know that’s going crazy too. I want to break down into a full-blown girl crush. But this is my brother, and I can’t do that.
I drop my eyes to my IV. “I don’t know what he’d want.” I peek back up at him, taking a bite of my sandwich.
He shakes his head. He’s giving me that same expression he gave me when I started dating Devereux. Emotionless yet intimidating. “Don’t start something with that guy,” he snaps, sitting up straighter.
I sigh and set my sandwich down. “You need to stay out of that,” I say, repeating his words back to him. I don’t want to tell him I’m just using Lincoln for sex, because I don’t know if that’s the case, and also, I shouldn’t have to explain myself. I have my own set of questions rattling around in my head as to what’s going on.
Avie quirks a smile my way. “I’ll stay out of it, but he fucks with you, I’m gonna fuck him up.”
Lincoln’s way bigger than him. I can’t imagine it would end well for my brother. I want to beg Avie for details. Did Mal tell him I was in the hospital? Does he care?
I smile to myself. A girl has to play hard to get when she can and hello, he asked about me? My heart soars with the possibility that there’s something between us. I can’t stop myself from thinking about him, the gravitational pull knitted into my bones. I never believed in destiny until I laid eyes on him. His mystery draws me in, hell, it’s damn near addicting. As the sun meets the horizon, my eyes grow heavy with thoughts of Lincoln, a vision of a man tangled in my soul. Like I was born with his memory inside me, all things wild