Page 35 of Before You
“It’s okay. I want you to take all the time you need. I’m here whenever you need me, or even if you don’t need me. I’m here, Marley.”
His words cause a smile to form on my face, my brain finally quieting from the madness of trying to decipher everything.
“Goodnight, JJ,” I say, feeling a thousand times better than where I started the day.
“Goodnight, Marley,” he says, and I wait for him to hang up, but he doesn’t, and neither do I.
I fall asleep listening to the steady sound of JJ breathing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JJ
I’VE BEEN TRYING to give Marley space, but it’s harder than I thought, especially when she’s the only person I want to talk to. After the first night, she’s called me a couple of times over the last week and a half, giving me a second reason to sleep with my ringer at full volume after I hit the point of exhaustion when even my insomnia can’t fight off sleep.
She opens up a little more with each call, and I think I’m slowly winning her forgiveness.
I still haven’t seen her in person, but Bria made a comment a few days ago on our run that Marley seems more like herself, breaking our unspoken agreement to not talk about our roommates.
I’m glad she’s doing better.
The only days Bria and I haven’t run together was the day before our away game last weekend, and the day after because I couldn’t move, even after taking my pills. I’m lucky Asher doesn’t know she’s running with me, or he’d be crawling out of bed to join us. I love the guy, but I don’t feel like subjecting myself to an hour of his painful attempt at flirting every day.
Asher groans, tossing his controller to the side. “How the hell are you winning? I never even see you play video games unless I ask you to,” he grumbles, and I grin at him.
“Guess I’m just better than you.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He rolls his eyes, reaching for where he threw the controller. “Rematch, but this time, keep your hands where I can see them.”
My hands have always been where he can see them, but whatever. “You think I’m cheating?”
“How else are you winning?”
“Maybe you just suck,” I say, laughing at the stunned expression on his face as he presses start on the game.
“Maybe you’re cheating,” Asher insists, leaning forward to get into his ready position. Sometimes he makes it really hard to remember why we’re friends. I shake my head, leaning back against the cushions as I try to remember which button on the controller does what.
Asher’s head damn near explodes when I win, and he turns everything off. “This is bullshit.” He scoffs, walking out of the room.
“Ash, come on! We could have played another round. I’ll even let you beat me this time,” I call after him, and his face is cherry red when he walks back into the living room, an energy drink in hand.
“That makes it so much worse, JJ. Now I’d rather lose than have you let me win.”
“Dude, I don’t know what to tell you then.”
He sticks his tongue out at me. “You suck.”
“You swallow,” I reply.
Luka walks into the room, flopping onto a recliner. “Did Asher lose again?” he asks, glancing at the dark television.
“I hate both of you,” Asher complains, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Bria you can’t beat me. I have a feeling she doesn’t date losers, but definitely not sore losers,” I taunt, and he flips me off, causing Luka to laugh.
“Walker’s right, but I bet he can’t beat me,” Luka says, tipping his head in my direction.
Yeah, I’m not falling for that. “I think Ash could use the practice instead,” I suggest, knowing Asher can’t turn down a challenge, even if it means getting his ass handed to him.
