Page 37 of Found by the Pack
She obeys, and I help slide her arms through the sleeves. My sweatshirt nearly swallows her whole. The sweatpants drag across the carpet as I help her into them.
“You good?” I ask as I help her up.
“I smell like you,” she murmurs.
That shouldn’t affect me the way it does. But it kicks straight into my chest.Don’t be an idiot.
I help her stand and walk back to my sitting room. She curls up on the couch again. Gus puts his head on her lap like he’s been waiting his entire life for her to come home.
“I’ll get you some Gatorade,” I say, needing the excuse to move.
When I come back with the bottle, she’s rubbing her eyes.
“I like your house,” she says as I hand it to her.
“Thanks.”
She uncaps it. Sips. Then asks, “Do you wear glasses for aesthetics?”
I blink. “No. What?”
“Your glasses. You have good bone structure. I wondered if they were fake.”
I almost laugh. “No. They’re real. I need them to read.”
She nods solemnly, like that’s the most important thing she’s learned today. Definitely concussed.
I hear my phone buzzing and grab it. Boone.
I pick up. “Hey?—”
“What the fuck happened?”
“She wrecked. Concussed. I brought her here. Didn’t want to force her into the ER.”
Boone curses. “I’ll be there in ten. Tell her to stay awake.”
“Working on it.”
He hangs up.
I look at her again. She’s leaning back on the armrest, eyes fluttering.
“Hey,” I say softly, sitting beside her. “Don’t fall asleep, alright?”
“I’m not,” she lies. “I’m just resting my eyes.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“Mm,” she says. Then, “The rain’s louder here.”
I nod. “Yeah. Metal fence. Amplifies it.”
“It’s kind of nice.”
We fall into silence again. Gus sighs and curls tighter into her side.
I study her. Her lashes are long. There’s a small scar along her jawline I hadn’t noticed before. A healed split, probably old. She shifts a little and presses a hand to her temple.
