“This looks amazing!” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. “I can’t believe it’s done already.”

“I had a decent designer.” Chase puts his arm around me and kisses the side of my head. “And once I got Jax off his lazy ass, the sanding and painting went fast.”

“I love it. White cabinets are trendy right now, and it really brightens up this space.”

“Exactly what I was going for,” Chase teases, taking another look at his renovated kitchen. Jax snores loudly from the couch, half covered with the rainbow unicorn blanket I brought for Chase as a joke.

“How long is he going to be here?” I ask. “Not that I mind or anything.”

“I mind,” Chase grumbles, eyeballing the empty containers of takeout on the floor. Overall, Chase is a neat person. He doesn’t make his bed or vacuum every day, but I’ve noticed that he doesn’t like clutter or things being out of place. “It’s been nearly a week and shouldn’t be too long. He’s waiting for his mistress’s husband to go on a business trip before going to her summer house in Florida.”

“That sounds like a joke, but you look serious.”

“I am serious. She’s old enough to be his mother.”

“Good for her,” I say and take Chase’s hand. It’s Sunday afternoon and we came back to Chase’s from church so he could change into jeans and a T-shirt. He asked me three times on the way if he should stay in his dress clothes for dinner tonight. He says he’s not nervous, but seeing him want to make a good impression means more to me than I expected it to. He wouldn’t want my family to like him if he wasn’t serious about us, right? Chase is a person who gives no fucks. So when he does, it means something.

We go into Chase’s room, and watching him unbutton his shirt is an instant turn-on. I bite my lip and reach up, pulling on the silver chain hanging around my neck. Chase catches me watching and grins. Slowly, he undoes the rest of the button and peels his shirt back Magic Mike style. As soon as the shirt hits the floor, I’m a goner.

* * *

“Chase?” I ask, reaching for him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, pressing his hand to his stomach. “Got a random cramp. I’m fine now.” I’m lying in his bed, sheets covering my naked body. He’s in the middle of the room, searching for my clothes that were ripped off and strewn about. He keeps his hand on his abdomen and straightens up, tossing me my underwear and dress.

I get dressed and then go to the bathroom, coming back in the room to find Chase balling up the dirty sheets. He has one hand pressed to his stomach again but brings it away as soon as I set foot in the room. I internally roll my eyes. Not feeling well isn’t anything to hide.

“Have a stomachache?” I ask, grabbing new sheets from the closet.

“Yeah. I have all day,” he confesses and grabs the opposite end of the fitted sheet. We have to turn it twice before getting it on the right way. “I’m fine though.”

“You’re nervous for tonight,” I joke.

“I’ve never felt sick from nerves,” he tells me. “I don’t feel nervous often, either.”

“Lucky. Nerves go right to my stomach. It’s not always pretty.”

We head to my house and spend the rest of the afternoon lounging around in the hammock. Tinkerbell and Dolly are with us most of the time, and Dolly’s approval of Chase makes me like him that much more.

“You feel kind of feverish,” I tell him, pressing my hand to the back of his forehead. “Are you still not feeling well?”

Chase shrugs. “I’m tired.”

“I’m going to take your temperature.” I get out of the hammock and return with the thermometer. I put it to Chase’s forehead. “Ninety-nine-point-two. You do have a fever.”

“I’ll take a Tylenol and be okay.”

“We don’t have to go to dinner. Not if you’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” he says again. “And it’s just dinner. I’ll be sitting there eating, not running a marathon.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” He pushes my hair back over my shoulder. “My only concern is making you sick.”

“I don’t get sick very often. I used to eat dirt when I was a kid. My mom jokes it gave me a hell of a good immune system.”

“I did not eat dirt as a child,” Chase laughs. “Maybe I should have.”

“I’m like never sick. I highly recommend it to children everywhere.”

Chase takes my hand and gets off the hammock, stretching his arms above his head. His T-shirt rises, giving me a glimpse of his abdomen. We bring the cats in, feed them, and get in Chase’s car to drive to my parents’ house. I notice him wincing when he gets out of the car, but does his best to hide it.

“Are you ready to meet your maker?” I ask, walking up to the front door.

Chase takes my hand. “I am. Are you?”

“No. I want to get a plate of food then go home.”

“We will. In an hour or two.”

I make a face and Chase squeezes my hand. He stops before we go up the steps and onto the porch and kisses me.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

“I know,” he says.

We enter the house and find everyone in the back parlor, no doubt waiting for us to arrive. Lisa and Rob aren’t here yet, and I wonder if she’s skipping altogether. We haven’t spoken since she confronted me about Chase’s criminal record. I introduce Chase to everyone, and then Gran pulls us out onto the porch for tea.

“It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s responsible for making my granddaughter happy again,” Gran says to Chase.

“It’s nice making her happy,” Chase replies.

Gran watches Chase and prepares her tea. “I knew your father,” she tells him. “He drove trucks for us for a while.”

“You probably knew him better than I did.”

Curious, Gran sets her tea down. “He didn’t reach out to you over the years?”

“Not very often.”

“It must have been hard growing up without your father when he had another son he was quite fond of.”

Chase shrugs. “That didn’t bother me.”

“And you get along with your brother now?”

“Yes. Very well, actually.”

Gran takes a sip of tea. “It would be easy to resent him, living the life you could have.”

“No, ma’am,” Chase starts. “I find resenting anything to be a waste of time. Stressing over what could have been gets you nowhere. What matters to me is what could happen next.”

Gran smiles and turns her attention to me. “I like this one, Sierra.”

“You won over Gran,” I whisper to Chase. “The rest will follow.”

The sound of a car engine turns all our attention to the street. A police car pulls in, and I hate the feeling of dread I feel knowing Lisa and Rob are here. She’s my best friend, and she’s family. I don’t want to fight.

I take a drink of tea, knowing I need to put my game face on. It’s obvious when Lisa and I aren’t getting along, though I do have Chase with me this time to provide a good buffer…expect that he’s the cause of the ill feelings.

“You’re late,” Gran says to Lisa and Rob as they walk up to the porch.

“Blame this one,” Rob says, sticking his thumb out at Lisa. “She can’t get anywhere on time to save her life.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “I so could.”

“Join us,” Gran says, much to my chagrin.

Lisa looks at me, then at Chase, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“Have y’all met before?” Gran asks, meaning Lisa, Rob, and Chase.

“Yes,” Chase answers. “Sierra and I were over at Rob’s for a bonfire not that long ago.”

“Lovely.” Gran settles her gaze on me, giving me a small nod of approval. “I was just telling Sierra what a fine young man she’s found. Not to put you on the spot or anything, dear,” she tells Chase.

Lisa gives Rob the side-eye, and then shakes her head. Gran hasn’t noticed, but Chase does. He’s smart enough to not bring it up, at least. Gran asks Chase about his newborn nephews and tells us a story about The Mill House before it was a bar. Lisa avoids eye contact with me the whole time and is on her phone, texting. I’m pretty sure she’s messaging Rob because he replies to texts right after she sends. I might not hear their words, but I know they’re talking about us.

Tension builds, and the awkwardness starts to hurt.

Dinner isn’t much better, but at least my sister likes to dominate the conversation and brag about how well my niece did at her last horse show. The rumors about Chase have circulated through town. I know what everyone is thinking, and are dying to ask. But we Belmonts were raised to have good manners, and asking someone about their shady past over dinner isn’t polite.

I’m more of a sit-back-and-listen kind of person at family meals, but make an exception this time whenever there is a lull in the conversation, which doesn’t happen often with my family.

“Is Scott coming home for the Fourth of July Fest?” I ask my mom.

“He said he’s in the middle of a big project,” Mom tells me. “Of course, he won’t disclose any details.”

Dad looks up from his plate. “You’ve never been to a Fourth Fest here, have you?”

“No, sir,” Chase answers. “This will be my first.”

“Why didn’t you come to Summer Hill before?” Dad asks.

“I knew I wasn’t welcome,” Chase answers honestly, surprising Dad. “I’m well aware of the situation my birth caused.”

“So why are you here now?”

“Well, I came for my father’s funeral,” Chase says slowly and I give my dad a what-the-fuck look. “And I stayed because my brother asked me to. We went our whole lives not really knowing each other and thought it was a good time to change that.”

“Where were you before you came to our little town?”

“Atlantic City.”

“You don’t have an accent,” Brent, my brother-in-law, says. “I thought everyone on the Jersey Shore had accents.”

“I’m not from there,” Chase explains. “I was born and raised near Chicago.”

“How did you end up in New Jersey?” Dad asks, furthering his interrogation.

“After studying psychology at the University of Chicago,” Chase starts, “I decided to throw a dart at a map and go wherever it landed. The world has so much to offer, I didn’t want to limit myself to one city. You can learn a lot from people who are different than you.”

“It sounds like you’ve moved around a lot,” Mom says, picking up her wine. She looks at my aunt Kelly and widens her eyes. It’s a good thing Mom doesn’t like to play poker. She’s so damn obvious.

“I did,” Chase answers. “A year ago today I was in Argentina.”

“That lifestyle sounds tiring,” Mom quips.

“It’s quite the opposite. Waking up not knowing what could happen makes you feel very much alive.”

“We must bore you here.” Mom smiles as she talks, but the implications of those five little words send a shiver down my spine.

“My tooth!” my niece cries, spitting something into her hand, and then holds up a bloody tooth. “If finally came out!”

I sigh and lean back in my chair, not realizing how tense I was until I relaxed. I’ve never been more thankful for a kid losing a tooth in my life. The conversation moves to the kids, with my niece unable to stop talking about her tooth and showing us how she can fit things in the new gap in her teeth now.

We have dessert and drinks on the patio near the pool. Chase eyeballs the pool house and nudges me with his elbow. I smile back, feeling blood rush through me at the thought of our first time.

We share a piece of cake, sitting together on the diving board, feet dangling above the pool. Chase makes me laugh so hard I almost fall in the water. He catches me at the last second, arms wrapping around my waist. We steal a kiss, not really caring if anyone sees.

“Sierra?” Lisa calls, standing a few yards back. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest. “Can I talk to you?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.” I get to my feet and walk up the diving board. It wobbles under my feet and I consider jumping in the pool to avoid this awkward conversation. Lisa turns when I’m a foot behind her and walks to the end of the patio, away from everyone.

“Chase was pretty charming at dinner,” she starts.

“I guess so.”

She starts down a cobblestone path and sits on the ground, pulling at the grass. “Still, I hope you reconsider.”

“Reconsider?” I ask, sitting next to her. “Reconsider what?”

“Being with Chase.” She breaks off several pieces of grass and twists them in her fingers. “He has a criminal record, Sierra.”

“That doesn’t make him a bad person.”

Lisa’s eyes widen. “Yes, it does. Criminals are bad people. Chase has a criminal record. I don’t see how you can’t follow this.”

“Because I know Chase.”

“Not as well as you think. Why was he arrested? What did he do? And why did the same judge from Indianapolis get all the charges dropped?”

My heart drops. Jax said something about Indianapolis. He came from there…I think. “I don’t know.”

“You should. If anything, Sierra, just ask him. Maybe there is a good reason—though I sure as shit can’t think of one. And don’t even get me started on that friend who’s staying with him.”

“You mean Jax? What about him?”

“Have you seen him?”

“A few times now,” I say, working hard to keep the snark out of my voice.

“He looks like a thug.”

“Oh my God, Lisa. Listen to yourself! He’s a nice guy and is actually a really big nerd. You’d like him if you gave him the time of day before slapping ridiculous labels on him.”

“It’s not a label. He really is a thug. And Jax isn’t his real name.”

I throw my hands up. “How in the world do you know that?”

“Rob ran his fingerprints through the system.”

I stand up, nostrils flaring. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. There have been few times in my life that have left me speechless, and this is one of them. “I…I can’t, Lisa. You don’t like me being with Chase. I know that. But I can’t—and I won’t—deal with you acting like this. It’s beyond ridiculous at this point.”

Lisa gets to her feet as well, following me when I take a step back.

“His name is Nelson Cole and he’s been arrested more times than Chase. And he has served jail time.”

I blink, slowly shaking my head. I don’t know what to say, and I’m battling off throwing up, crying, or screaming.

“I’d go by Jax if my name was Nelson too.”

Lisa lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sierra, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“That’s surprising. You’re doing an awfully good job at it.”

“I have a bad feeling about them.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is? It’s not too weird seeing me with Chase?”

“I already told you I was sorry for saying that. And yes, that’s what it is. Chase has a shady past, and now this guy shows up out of nowhere with a creepily similar past. It doesn’t make sense. You’ve been through so much, I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“Chase isn’t the one hurting me. Like you just said, I’ve been through so much and I’m finally happy again. Chase is everything I could want. He’s funny and sensitive and likes to sit in bed with me and read. He’s patient and kind and has made sure I’m okay with moving on every step of the way. He understands what I’ve been through.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“No shit. Instead of talk to me, you go play Scooby Gang and run Jax’s fingerprints.” I shake my head. “I’m not even going to ask how you got them, but I’m pretty sure stealing his prints like that with no reason is illegal.” I put my hands to my head, rubbing my temples. “I have a headache now. I’m going home.”

“What’s going on?” Chase asks when I come back. “Neither of you looked happy.”

“It’s nothing. Lisa gets in moods like this from time to time. She’ll get over it.”

“Can I do anything to help? I know I’m the source of her mood.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” he tells me. “It was obvious the moment she got out of the car and saw me.”

I push my hair back. “Right. Don’t worry about it though. She’ll get over it.”

“If you say so.” Chase doesn’t sound convinced. We gather our plates and cups and say goodbye to my family. On the way out to the car, I go over Lisa’s words. She is right. Something is off, and all it will take to get to the bottom of it is asking Chase what’s going on.

Chase opens the car door for me. All I have to do is ask him. He’ll answer with no hesitation. I’m sure of it.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath when he sits down. His hand flies to his stomach and his eyes close tight.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he assures me, straightening up. “Another cramp. I must have eaten something that doesn’t agree with me. Good thing we have a mile drive to your place.”

I put the back of my hand to his forehead. “You still feel feverish.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’ll see about that when we get to my house.” I rest one hand on his thigh and adjust the air with the other. We park in front of my house just moments later, and I take Chase’s temperature as soon as we’re inside.

“One-oh-one.” I show him the thermometer. “Your temp is going up.”

Chase sighs and runs his hand over the back of his head. “I’ll take more meds and crash. After I fuck you senseless, that is.”

I raise an eyebrow. “As much as I want to have sex with you, I think we should skip tonight. You’re sick, babe. You need to rest.”

Chase grumbles but doesn’t protest, and that’s all I need to know he’s feeling worse than he’s letting on. We change into pajamas and get ready for bed. I bring Chase medicine and a glass of water. He takes it and lies down, falling asleep within minutes.

I’ll ask him about his past another time.

* * *

Chase was still in bed when I left for work Monday morning. Tylenol did nothing to bring down his fever, and he was in more pain than he was letting on. Around noon, he texted to say he was going to his place to get new clothes and would come back and be at my house when I got off work. He said he was feeling worn out and wanted to go back to sleep.

I didn’t hear from him after that, and the assumption that he was in my bed passed out kept me from worrying. But when I got home around four o’clock and Chase was nowhere to be found, panic set in. I called him three times with no answer. I can’t help my mind going to the worst place, and I get a vision of Chase cold, stiff, and dead on the living room floor of his apartment.

“Stop,” I say out loud. Most people don’t die young. I feed the cats, throw a load of laundry into the washer, then get in the car and head to The Mill House. I call Chase again, annoyed that he never set up his voicemail. The phone rings and rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer.

There are a few cars in the parking lot, and Cory, the bartender working tonight waves to me as I cut through the bar, taking the faster route to the stairs. The door to the apartment is locked. I knock, anxiety growing by the second.

“Oh, uh, hi,” I say when Jax answers the door. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and boxers, and looks like he just woke up. “Is Chase here?”

“Yeah,” he starts, and I enter the apartment. Empty beer cans and a spilled bag of chips is on the floor by the couch where Jax has been sleeping. “He’s being a pussy and says he’s not feeling well.”

“Still?”

“I know, right? Go play nurse and make him feel better. I’ll put on headphones and try not to listen.”

I pull a face but ignore him, striding through the living room to get to Chase. His bedroom door is shut, and I enter without knocking. The blinds are drawn and there’s a trashcan next to the bed.

“Chase?”

He mumbles something incoherent in response. I take off my shoes and get in bed, crawling over to him.

“Babe, you okay?” The second I touch him, I can tell he still has a fever. A high fever. “You’re burning up!” I exclaim and rip the blankets off him.

Chase starts to sit up but stops, wincing. He looks at me, blinks a few times, and then shakes his head. “Sierra? When did you get here?”

“Just now. You’re burning up, Chase. You have a fever.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flutter and he lies back down.

My chest tightens. Something is wrong. Really wrong.

“I think you should go to the doctor. You’re sick.”

“I’m tired,” he mumbles. “That’s all. Lay down with me and I’ll feel better.”

“No, you need more than a nap. You don’t own a thermometer, do you?”

Chase doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed and his breathing is slow. I put my hand on his shoulder and give him a shake. He starts to sit up and winces again, hand going to his stomach.

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely and reaches for the trashcan. I get it to him just in time for him to throw up. He groans and lays back, hand still on his stomach. “Can you bring me water?”

“Of course, I’ll get it now.” I take the garbage full of puke out with me, trying hard not to let it gross me out. Chase is really sick right now. He needs me.

I get water after the trash is cleaned out, and hurry back to the bedroom.

“Doesn’t sound too good in there,” Jax says, raising his eyebrows.

“I thought you were putting on headphones.”

“Nah. I’m not going to get laid anytime soon. I need to get my jollies somewhere.”

I roll my eyes. “Has he been like this all day?”

“Like what?”

“Kind of out of it.”

“Yeah, he has. I thought he was drunk at first. Then I remembered he didn’t drink.”

I give Jax a dead stare. “And you didn’t think anything could be seriously wrong?”

Jax shrugs. “He said he was fine.”

I shake my head and go back into the bedroom. Chase is huddled in a ball on the bed, with his hand over the right side of his abdomen. He straightens out when he sees me, not wanting to appear weak or let on that anything is actually wrong.

“Is that where it hurts?” I ask. “The lower right side?”

“Mostly.”

“I think you have appendicitis.”

“I don’t think so.” Chase sips the water. I take the glass from him and make him lay down. Gently, I press my fingers into his stomach, on the right side.

“It’ll hurt more when I let go,” I warn him. “And that means you need to get this thing taken out.” I move my hand and instantly feel bad for him. “You’ve been feeling sick for over twenty-four hours. We need to go to the hospital. Now,” I say through gritted teeth.

Chase doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t get up either.

“Chase Henson,” I say firmly. “Get your ass into the car right now or so help me God I will carry you down those stairs and put you in myself.”

Chase slowly sits up and nods, looking more and more confused. Certain he’s having emergency surgery as soon as we get to Mercy General, I grab a fresh change of clothes for him and rush out the door.

“Dude, you look terrible,” Jax says, standing from the couch. His eyes go to me. “Is he okay?”

I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure his appendix is about ready to burst if it hasn’t already. I’m taking him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive,” Jax says. “You should sit with him in the back.”

“Good idea.”

Jax grabs his pants from the floor and puts them on, then helps Chase down the stairs. We’re halfway through the parking lot when Chase throws up again. Jax goes back inside for a water bottle and a trash bag to take with us in the car. I gently wipe his face with a tissue, and Chase looks around like he can’t quite figure out what’s happening.

That’s not a normal symptom of appendicitis. My stomach flip-flops and I grip Chase’s hand, practically dragging him to the car. My fingers shake as I pull the seatbelt over him and click it into place.

“Sierra,” Chase mumbles. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital. Close your eyes and try to relax.”

“Okay.” Chase’s eyes fall shut and his head tilts to the side. Jax is in the driver’s seat seconds later, and I hand him my keys. We speed off, making the hour-long trip in just over forty-five minutes. Chase is admitted right away, and after his blood work comes back, he’s whisked away for surgery, leaving me in the ER waiting room with Jax.

“We can go up there.” He stands and extends his hand.

“Where?”

“The post-op waiting area.”

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. His skin is rough and a quick look lets me know he suffered a nasty burn. The thick scar tissue covers the back of his hand.

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I have. And I’ve been through it with Chase before too. He’ll be all right. He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

I nod and the shock starts to leave me. Everything happened so fast in the ER, and the faces of the doctors and nurses told me everything they didn’t say: getting Chase into surgery and removing his ruptured appendix might not be enough.

“Why did Chase have surgery before?” I ask and press a button to get into an elevator.

“Broke his leg flipping over the handlebars of a four-wheeler. He refused to go to the hospital for a week and the small fracture he got in the fall turned into a nasty break. By the time he got seen the bone had to be reset.”

“I’ve seen the scar,” I say, recalling the straight surgical line on his thigh. “How long ago was it?”

“Fuck if I remember,” Jax says, getting a dirty look from the woman who’s in the elevator with us. “Five years ago? Six?”

“You two have been friends for a long time then, right?”

“Feels like a lifetime,” Jax jokes.

I nervously pull on my cat necklace, mind whirling. When Chase said he never stayed anywhere long, I assumed he left everything and everyone behind. We get to the surgical floor and the nerves come back tenfold.

I can’t lose Chase. I wouldn’t survive it. Sitting in the cold, hospital waiting room, thinking about Chase on the operating table, makes my stomach churn. I close my eyes and get hit with another vision. I’m standing in a graveyard, watching a coffin get lowered into the ground. My heart is inside that coffin, but no one believes me. The dirt falls, burying me deep underground.

I’ve been through it before.

“Hey,” Jax whispers, putting his hand on mine. “It’ll be okay.”

I open my eyes and realize I’m close to hyperventilating. I blink back tears and nod. Jax pats my hand and leans back in his chair. I wrap my arms around myself and stare up at the TV in the corner of the room.

What feels like hours later, a nurse calls my name. I scramble up and over to her. She gives me a quick rundown—surgery went fine, but the infection was worse than they thought, which was why Chase was so out of it before we came here. He is being moved to the ICU to be treated for sepsis after this. She takes me back to see him, and tears fill my eyes the moment I see him lying in the recovery bed, hooked up to IVs and machines.

His eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful. The nurse warns me he might wake up totally confused and even combative, saying that’s pretty normal.

“Chase,” I whisper, putting my hand on his, careful to avoid the IV line. I gently stroke his skin, pressing myself close to the bed to stay out of the nurses’ way as they check the monitors.

Chase’s eyes flutter open and he starts to sit up. “Sierra,” he mumbles.

“I’m here. Right here. Don’t sit up, Chase. You just had surgery.”

His head falls back onto the pillow and a few seconds go by before he opens his eyes again. “Why did I have surgery?”

“Your appendix burst. You’re pretty sick, babe. You need to rest.” I blink tears back. “But you’re gonna be okay.”

“Right,” he agrees and twists his hand around, interlacing our fingers. “Sierra?”

I lean in, straining to hear what he has to say. “Yes?”

“I think I love you.”

I don’t try to stop the tears that fall this time. “I think I love you, too.”

* * *

The last time I was in the Intensive Care Unit, Jake died. Slight jitters take over when I step through the doors. Everything is the same. The lighting. The smell. Even the nurses.

Jake was at the room at the end of the unit, farthest away from the nurses. It didn’t matter by that time. The curtains were drawn around the glass walls. They gave us privacy because that’s all we had left.

Chase is in the second room, right across from the nurses’ station. The curtains and pulled back, and a nurse is in there now, adjusting tubes and checking on him. He’s awake and looks bored. It’s easy to convince myself that he’s fine and out of the woods. But having an infection turn septic is serious. Very serious.

Chase looks up, smiling when he sees me. I stay to the side, waiting for the nurse to finish, then go in and hug Chase.

“I guess you were right,” he says, running his hand through my hair. “I did need to go to the doctor.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I say back and we laugh. Chase winces slightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Give me a day or two.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I think you’ll still be here in a day or two.”

“We’ll see.”

“You have a drain in the wound.”

“It’s turning you on, isn’t it?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey baby, want to see my wound drain?”

I laugh and run my fingers through his hair. “Do you know Josh’s number?” I ask Chase.

“It’s in my phone. You can get it,” he replies, then tenses.

“Your phone is at home.”

“Good.” Chase relaxes, eyes fluttering closed. “Why do you need his number?” he asks a moment later.

“To let him know what’s going on.”

“No, he just left the hospital with the boys, remember? I don’t want to make him worry.”

“That’s really sweet of you, but he needs to know you won’t be at work.”

“Fuck. Right. I should call him.”

“I’ll handle it,” I say and continue running my fingers through his hair. Chase closes his eyes again, and within minutes, he’s asleep again. I tuck the blanket around him and slip out, filling Jax in on how Chase is doing, and then going into the hospital lobby to make a few phone calls. I get ahold of my mother first and am surprised by her concern. I have to stop her from getting in the car and coming here right away. Instead, I send her on a mission to get Josh’s cellphone number, and texts it to me in a matter of minutes.

“Hello?” Josh answers, and I’m so glad he does. I never answer unknown numbers.

“Hey, Josh, it’s Sierra.”

“Hey. What’s going on?”

“I’m at Mercy with Chase. He just has his appendix taken out.”

“Shit. Is he okay?”

“He will be. His appendix ruptured and turned septic. He’s in the ICU right now.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No,” I say quickly. “He doesn’t want you to come. He didn’t even want me to call you and make you worry or take time away from the twins. But I knew you needed to know.”

“Right. Are you staying there with him? You sure he’s okay? People die from sepsis.”

“I’m not leaving, and the nurse seemed confident he’s going to recover.” I sit on the bench right outside the entrance doors. Night has fallen, and the city is far from asleep. “He was really out of it when I got to his house this evening, and his fever was high. The ER doctor told me we got here just in time.” Tears fill my eyes and I don’t know why I’m telling this all to Josh. “It was scary.”

“I’m glad he has you. He’s lucky, you know.”

“Yeah,” I say and sniffle. “I think I am too.”

A baby cries in the background. “Call me if anything changes?”

“I will. Bye, Josh.”

The crying gets louder, drowning out whatever Josh said. I hang up and call Mrs. Williams, and then call my mom back to make sure she’ll feed the cats. Back inside, I tell Jax to go back home, and he takes a taxi so I have my car. Chase is still sleeping, so I sit in a chair next to his bed, resting my head against the wall. Before I know it, I’m asleep too.