Kat:
Blaze was sprawled across the tiny excuse for a couch, looking ridiculously too big for the cheap, cracked vinyl. His long legs were hanging off the end, arms folded behind his head, a picture of casual badassery even half-asleep.
I was curled up in the hard-backed chair next to Shay’s bed, head drooping, exhaustion clawing at my spine. The endless beeping of machines and the stale air had lulled me into a kind of miserable daze.
Then — buzz buzz — Blaze’s phone vibrated loud against the coffee table.
His whole body tensed, instinct clicking into place immediately. Without a word, he swung his legs down and stood. He leaned over me, pressed a quick kiss to the crown of my head — rough, rushed — and all he said was, "Gotta go."
No explanation. No promises. No time.
And then he wa
