Page 54 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Can we do that again?”
He chuckles, kissing me. “Anything you want, baby. We have all night.”
CHAPTER 16
HARLOW
Ashrill sound penetrates the deep sleep I’ve been in.
“Ugh,” I groan, tossing my arm over my face. “Make it stop.”
I don’t know whether Jameson listens to me or if maybe God himself has heard my plea but it does stop.
Rolling over, I pull the covers up to my chin. Before I have a chance to doze back off, the ringing starts up again.
“What is that?” I push against Jae’s shoulder. “Turn it off.”
He yawns sleepily. “It’s your phone.”
The sound cuts off again before starting back up.
Finally, reality infiltrates my sleep addled brain and I sit straight up, the covers pooling at my waist. “Oh my God.”
For my phone to keep ringing like that, something must be wrong. Nobody ever calls me back-to-back like that. My mouth parts with fear.
Monroe.
Tumbling out of the bed I get a peek at the clock on the nightstand and see that it’s after eleven in the morning.
Grabbing one of Jae’s shirts I tug it over my naked body—stupid, I know, but for some reason I can’t fathom the idea of answering the phone completely naked.
Locating my phone, I answer just before it cuts off again. “Hello?”
I realize I didn’t even look at the caller ID to see who it was, but I’m unfortunately not surprised when Spencer speaks. “Thank fuck, why weren’t you answering your phone?”
“I—”
“That’s not important,” he interrupts my explanation. “You need to get to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” It feels like all the blood drains from my body. “What’s wrong? What happened?” When he doesn’t respond in zero-point-two seconds I scream into the phone, “Tell me, dammit!”
Frantically, I scour the drawers for clothes I keep here. Pulling out a pair of cotton shorts I yank them on, not bothering with panties.
“I was right there with her?—”
“Spencer”—I cry, panic overloading me— “is she okay? What the fuck, of course she’s not, you’re at the hospital.” I slap my forehead and go back to searching for clothes. I need a bra and a t-shirt and … shoes. Shoes are important.
By now, Jameson is sitting up in bed and he looks as scared as I do.
“I was teaching her to skateboard, and she fell—I swear it was a small fall, Harlow, but she landed on her arm wrong and?—”
“And what?” I nearly shout. “What happened?”
“It’s broken. She’s going to have to get a cast.”
Air leaves my body. “How bad?”
“She doesn’t need surgery.”
