Dylan

It’s been hours since they brought me in, a whirlwind of questions circling me. Between the doctors and the guys, it’s hard to hear them all when they demand answers from me.

I’m lucky, so the doctors tell me. The crash totaled my car when it hit the tree, but it only left me with a broken leg and bruised ribs on top of a few cuts on my face from where the shattered windshield got me.

The pain is bearable, mostly from the pain meds they gave me. If it weren’t for them, I’d be even worse off, if not from the injuries, from being the one place I hate most.

Not to mention the ridiculous stories going around aren’t helping ease the stress level. I went to my cousin’s graduation party to give her a gift, and practically got mobbed. I left, sober, with some young high school bimbo on my tail all the way to my car.

I sped off before she could get to me, but took a turn too fast, losing control of the car. All I could think about as I tried correcting it was how bad I wanted to see Ash. And when the tree came into view faster than I wanted it to, I had no clue if I’d be able to do that again.

When the doctor places me back in my bed after putting a cast on my leg, I wait for one of my many texts to her to be answered with no avail.

Dammit. She must have seen the articles.

Ian told me she was on her way a while ago, but he couldn’t explain the story because his phone kept cutting out when he was driving to the hospital. I could only image what she must be thinking of me.

My thoughts break apart when the door opens, and Ashton appears. She looks like a mess, her hair everywhere, eyes puffy, face pale. She’s wearing baggy sweatpants and a ratty white T-shirt, and it still gets my heart racing.

The guys all leave us alone, Ian giving me a pat on the shoulder as if to wish me luck. As he walks by Ashton, he gives her a quick hug before closing the door behind him.

“You look …” Her voice is hoarse. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She nods, sniffing back tears. “Good.”

Walking over to me, she does what I never expect her to. She slaps me.

“What is it going to take, Dylan?” she growls, pushing against my chest with what little strength she has. “When are you going to open your damn eyes and see that you’re destroying yourself!”

Whoa. “I’m not—”

“No. It’s my time to talk. So sit down and shut up,” she barks, claws coming out if I don’t be quiet.

I clamp my lips together, knowing I’m about to get my ass chewed out. And for once, I don’t even deserve it. Who would have thought?

“You say that you’re dedicated to your band more than any of those other guys combined. You say it’s your entire life. Fine. Some people don’t need anything more. You say that you don’t want anybody in your life that can ruin what you’ve become. Great. If you think you’re better off without somebody to love you, good for you. But you’re a fool, Dylan Hilton. A damn fool for thinking that anybody would truly believe that the band means anything to you after tonight.

“You got behind the wheel of a car drunk. You not only endangered your life, but other people’s lives. If the band is so important to you, why risk it? What would’ve happened to Relentless if the accident had been worse? If your body was wrapped around that tree just like your car? That would have ended the band. That would have changed everything, and you act like it’s nothing.”

“Ash—”

“I’m not done!” she snaps. “You think you’re invincible but you’re not. You think you can go out and party all night, drinking and doing God knows what with whoever you want. But one day you’re going to find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of. Then what? What will the perfect life you’ve made for yourself be then?”

I wait until I know she’s done lecturing me to bother saying something again. I’m sure listing the ways she’s wrong won’t get me any brownie points with her, but she needs to know the truth.

“You’re wrong. If Ian did something like that and died, then it’d be the end of the band. I’m replaceable. Any guitarist is.”

She shakes her head. “And there it is,” she answers quietly. “You’re afraid. Of being replaced. Being disposable. Is that why you live it up now? Just so you can say that you did. Well guess what, Einstein? If you keep going on like this, they’ll actually have a reason to get rid of you. That is, if you don’t get yourself killed first.”

She grabs her purse from the chair and turns to leave, but I grab her arm before she can walk out of the hospital room.

“You’re right,” I tell her. “I’m afraid of all those things. But what you’re not right about is what happened tonight. I wasn’t drunk, Ashton.”

Her tough-girl act drops. “What?”

I give her a small, amused smile. “I wasn’t drunk. I know the tabloids are saying that I was, but I swear I didn’t have a drop of alcohol today. I was seeing my cousin. Then I was going to say good-bye to my parents, book a plane ticket, and see you. I missed you, Ash, and I want this to work. I think it’s all worth it, and I’m hoping you think that, too.”

I realized long before the crash that everything I bottled up was just building to my demise—to the moment I exploded. Telling my parents about the assault, telling them that I was moving away, helped more than I would have thought. I was able to let go of the past, and say good-bye to Clinton for good.

What I hoped was that I could find a place closer to Ashton if I knew it was what she wanted, too. I swallow past the anxiety I have over the possibility that she might not want it. The only way I know how to try getting her to believe in me is being completely honest.

“And while I am afraid of being replaced, the one thing I’m scared of more is having to live the rest of my life knowing that I let you walk away for good. I don’t want to know what that’s like, Ash.”

She takes a feeble breath. “You … what?”

I pull her toward me, sitting up so we’re face-to-face. “Listen very carefully, Boots. You’re annoying and outed my love for Abba to the world. For that, I may never forgive you. But I can never make it up to you for what you’ve done for me. I didn’t want to believe that I could be anything more than the pain I was holding onto until you came along.

“You helped me let that go, and replace it with something better. If you didn’t, I would have ended up here eventually, right in this bed, still drunk out of my mind, and probably a hell of a lot more hurt if I hadn’t managed to correct the car before it was too late. You saved me from myself.”

She blinks back tears, but they stick to her lashes, showing just how powerful the truth is when it counts.

“But the other girl. They said—”

I pinch her lips. “Ask me what the first thing I notice about those other girls is,” I tell her slowly, eyes sweeping over her face.

I let go of her lips.

She takes a deep breath, slowly letting the air escape her. “What is the first thing you notice about other girls?”

I brush my lips against her cheek before drawing back. “That they aren’t you.”

That’s all it takes before she’s in the bed next to me, careful not to brush my bad leg and ribs. She kisses me, claims me, owns me, long before I can show her just how much I mean every word.

She takes something out of her bag, a piece of paper. Handing it to me, my eyes travel down to my handwriting. It’s the lines I wrote the last time I saw her.

My eyes lock with hers. “I told you,” I whisper. “You saved me.”

She squeezes my hands, overcome with emotion. I take the opportunity to say, “You, Ashton King, are the best thing happened to me. And every moment that we shared is one that I plan to cherish for as long as you’ll let me.”