Page 140 of Between Never and Forever
“I think Luke has them,” I say finally, and she nods.
“I’ll grab them from him and meet you at the hospital, okay?”
“Okay.”
Savannah smiles softly, then slowly she bends down and kisses me. Her soft lips are warm and gentle, and despite everything, it all finally feelsright. Nothing around us matters. Not the paramedics. Not her security guard’s watchful eye. Not our friends milling about in the parking lot, awaiting instructions. It’s just Savannah and me and this sweet, soft kiss.
Whatever is happening between us, it feels fragile. Fragile and valuable, but just as insistent. It won’t be ignored any longer, and I want to protect it at all costs.
Sav pulls back and rests her forehead on mine. When she speaks, her lips brush over my lips in a ghost of a kiss. Her breath tickles my skin. Her nose grazes mine.
“See you in a bit,” she whispers.
“See you in a bit.”
She climbs out of the ambulance and disappears around the corner. I close my eyes and drop my head to my chest. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Or like I got sucked into some rapids and hit every fucking rock on the way. I roll my shoulders slowly, noting the way each muscle aches and the cuts on my back burn. This is going to make sleeping miserable. Working even worse.
I just want to shower and sleep for a week.
I open my eyes when I hear someone climb into the front of the ambulance, then another paramedic shows up at the open doors on the back.
“We’re going to get you strapped in,” she says pointedly. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive. Not bad.”
I nod and maneuver my body on the stretcher cot. The paramedic comes over and checks my vitals again, then starts to hook up the straps across my body. She’s doing one across my chest when Savannah appears at the back of the ambulance again.
She’s looking at me like she’s in pain, tears welling in her eyes, and my fear ratchets up. The heart rate monitor starts to beep, and the paramedic pushes a button to silence it.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I look to the paramedic. “Get someone for her. Get someone to—”
“What is this?”
Savannah’s question is asked almost angrily, her voice is shaking with restrained emotion. I shake my head and open my mouth to tell her I don’t know what she’s talking about, when my eyes fall on my keys clutched in her hand. My breath is sucked from my lungs, and the heartrate monitor starts to beep again.
“Savannah...”
“Did you keep this? Is this what I think it is?”
She waves the key in front of her, the rest jangling with the motion. She brandishes it like a weapon, making sure I get a good look at it. It’s tarnished and beat up, but it still sits on the key ring where it’s been for the last eight years. I thought it blended in well. I don’t know why I didn’t think she’d see it. I nod.
“It is.”
“Why? Why would you keep it?”
I stare at her. She knows the answer already. I know she does. She has to. I take a deep breath before I respond.
“The same reason you wear the lock on that chain around your neck when you perform.”
She sucks in a breath, and she narrows her eyes. I watch her jaw clench as she swipes at the tears streaming down her face.
The lock Sav Loveless wears around her neck, at every concert and in every photoshoot, is the same lock I used to chain up my bike when we were kids. It’s a small, cheap one that I’d bought from the hardware store with allowance money. It was a terrible defense against theft, which is why Savannah was able to steal my bike and hide it so easily.
That lock that adorns her collarbone, that she uses as an accessory to every outfit, that is considered an iconic staple of her image, is the only thing tying Sav Loveless to Savannah Shaw. It’s the only tangible thing linking her to me.
“I’ve kept the key for the same reason you’ve kept the lock,” I say pointedly. “Because the universe was never done with us. You know it, and I know it.”
Silence stretches and we stare at each other, unblinking, until a second paramedic appears. He tells her to step back, that we need to get on the road, so she does, but she doesn’t break her eye contact with me. There’s a storm brewing in her gray eyes, and I’m ready for it. I’m welcoming it. I’ve craved it for too long.
When the paramedic shuts the ambulance doors, I can still feel her eyes on me.
