The Road To Heaven (Allendale Four 3)

“What’s that?”

“That Hayden is our number one priority.”

He nodded. “Yes, he is.”

Releasing that built-up dam of emotions pushed through my anxiety and I finally felt myself relax. Anderson didn’t move his arms and I slowly felt myself sinking into his side, comfortable for the first time all night.

14

Anderson

I didn’t dare move.

Not an inch.

I couldn’t wake her—not just because she needed sleep, but because the feel of her, the weight of her against my chest, settled me in a way I thought I’d lost forever.

I had zero doubt that once she woke she’d take off…again.

I knew I’d been hard on her the day before. Two years of tension wound into a heightened moment that had been compounded by my fear for Hayden’s health. But when I saw her in that waiting room my insides shattered, every emotion I’d held onto for so long splintering into a million pieces. Anger mixed with sadness, mixed with longing, mixed with desperation…the results weren’t pretty.

Even under the strain of worrying about Hayden, she’d startled me with her beauty. She’d grown from a skinny girl to a curvy woman. Her face looked different; thinner and more defined. Her eyes didn’t carry the tinge of sadness that had lurked there for so many years. She looked good—healthy—and that nearly broke my heart again. She was doing well without us. Maybe better than with us.

And that was the crux of it all…maybe we were all better off separately. It didn’t feel like it, especially not at first. I’d thrown myself into my competitions, channeling the pain into sweat and gold medals. Each win was hollow without her at the end of the pool, but I persevered because I had a dream, with or without her, and failing…that wouldn’t bring her back. Instead I swam each race as a tribute to her strength, fighting every day for her health.

And here she was, healthy. Strong. Sad about our friend, but ultimately strong.

She shifted beneath me, forcing her shirt to rise up, revealing her lower back. Dark marks caught my eye and I strained to get a better look.

A tattoo.

I blinked, reconciling that Heaven had a tattoo, and carefully lifted her shirt a bit higher. I realized quickly that it was a scattering of stars, a constellation.

I grazed my fingers over each one, counting the number over and over again.

There were five.

She moved beneath me and I willed my body to behave. I glued my hands to the edge of the couch, away from her soft skin, and made myself relish in this one moment, fascinated by the fact I’d learned something new about her. What else did I not know? How much had she changed?

It broke my heart knowing she’d moved on without me—us—but it also made me proud.

15

Heaven

The hospital doors slid open and we entered the building with considerably less tension than when we left the day before.

We’re both avoiding the way we woke up, groggy and intertwined on the couch. Anderson blinked at me, like he was surprised to see me there, and I pretended I didn’t feel the natural presence of his hard length between us.

“Uh, sorry,” I mumbled, scrambling off the couch and into the bathroom to change. In my mind, I prepared a dozen statements for when I reentered the room, but he just handed me a coffee and a bagel with peanut butter, exactly how I like them, and slipped into a silent agreement not to mention it again.

Times like this, I truly appreciated Anderson’s stubbornness. It made denial so much easier.

“So, we’ll meet with the doctor and then what?” I asked, entering the elevator.

“Hopefully get a plan together.” He leaned against the wall. “I don’t know if he’ll want to stay here while he recovers or…”

“Or what?”