He stares down at the union, my fingers intertwining with his. I need him to know he can trust me.
“My Uncle Jack knew Emma was at risk, but my mom refused testing when she was younger. Denial.”
I fight to understand what his mother must’ve gone through, but can only feel pain for the broken man beside me.
“It was Uncle Jack who took Emma in and had her tested when she was about seven. My mom flipped her shit that he’d do that behind her back—that he’d found a doctor to cooperate for the blood tests. It was enough to prove she needed a biopsy, and Uncle Jack wouldn’t let Mom say no to it. The worse part was the results. ”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I was only ten, but I knew what that meant for my sister. I just couldn’t…” His gaze, now vacant, wanders over my shoulder. When it finally returns to me, he’s built a wall, trying to hide his vulnerability further. His explanation continues, albeit robotically now. “I did everything I could to keep her safe. I refused to lose her too. I read every article I could find…made sure she ate well, did light exercise, and didn’t stay up late at night. I did everything…but it never mattered, because there’s no cure.”
“You’re an amazing brother. You have to know that.”
His face is strained. He closes his eyes briefly before ripping his hands from mine and jumping up, beginning to pace again. “No, I’m a selfish son of a bitch!”
“Cruz…” I whisper, starting to stand.
“You don’t get it! No one does! I love Em more than anything, but I couldn’t lose her because of selfish reasons. Don’t you see? I didn’t want to be left alone with a mother too strung out to even take care of us! It scared the shit out of me!”
I can feel his guilt, pouring out in an angry torrent.
“Cruz, you just said you took care of her. You love her. I’ve seen it over and over again with my own eyes.” My tears run wild at the pain distorting his features, but I step closer. “You didn’t want to lose your sister—someone you adore. It’s okay that you were scared, and it’s okay if that’s mixed in with other stuff, but I see you. You’d do anything for her, and she knows it. And I know you’re upset…nothing makes sense…but you can’t blame yourself for any of this.”
His entire body’s shaking. “Uncle Jack moved us into his place when I was thirteen, and sent my mom to rehab. Everything was perfect,” he says quickly, his voice still tight but the tension easing from his shoulders. “Jack had a lot of friends that were always around, who were good to me and Em. He married the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, Melanie. She treated Em like a princess, and I could finally breathe again. They bought me my first dirt bike that Christmas, and that’s all I did—lost myself in the forest behind the house, making ramps, digging channels. It was the best time of my life.”
I attempt a smile, but it’s short-lived as he swallows hard and shakes his head slowly.
“My uncle was always up front with me about what Emma faced; vision issues, trouble hearing, and what killed my father—kidney failure. But Em had been perfect! Not a fucking sign of it. I stopped looking for it after a while. Started to live again, traveling on the circuit when I was sixteen, and at first I’d call her every night. She was so happy; making friends, having sleepovers, that eventually I stopped calling so much, just checking in on the weekends.”
He blows out a ragged breath. “I got the call from Aunt Mel last year when I was halfway across the country, exhausted and celebrating a win.” He looks away in thought. “Uncle Jack never said anything. Guess he thought he was protecting us. I didn’t know until it was too late that he’d been diagnosed at the same time as my dad. He hid it all those years. He passed away, and everything turned to shit again.”
“Cruz…” I reach for him, but he dodges me. My hands fall helplessly to my sides.
“I got a condo near Emma and tried to convince her to go to college, and that’s when they told me everything. Emma had been sick for a while. It’s her kidneys, just like my father’s, just like Jack’s. Her hearing’s been pretty good, and she can see great with contacts. Doctors say she can live a functioning life if…”
“She needs a transplant,” I say, understanding the guilt and gravity.
He nods. “I’m not a match, and neither is Melanie, or Adam, or…”
“I saw Adam and Emma hugging.”
“He was Uncle Jack’s best friend. Always been like family to us.”
I take his hands, relaxing when he doesn’t pull away, and lead us to sit again.
“She collapsed. What does that mean now?” I ask, holding my breath.
“Doctors are saying dehydration. They ran some tests, and are sending the results back home to her regular physician. I want to get her out of here, but of course she’s refusing. She’s not high enough on the transplant list, and says she’d rather die in paradise than back home in her room.” He falters, sucking in another deep breath to control his emotions.
“I’m so sorry, Cruz. For you, for her.” It hits me then. “Wait, what about you? If it’s genetic, why weren’t you ever tested?” Oh God, or was he?
He shakes his head quickly. “My dad knew it ran in his family—he refused to have kids when they got married. I’m adopted, Harlow.”
“What?” That’s impossible. He and Emma look so much alike.
“My mom’s cousin got knocked up and couldn’t raise a child, so my parents took me in as their own. I didn’t find out till my dad told me a few weeks before he died. Emma, well…he said my mom wanted another child, so they started down the adoption path, but she gave up after a year of waiting and stopped taking her birth control since my dad wasn’t showing any signs. I guess she thought maybe a baby wouldn’t have it either—that there was a chance. Dad said he was furious but he loved Emma…called her his angel. It would’ve killed him all over again to see her going through this.”
I clutch his hands tighter, blinking back more tears.
“In a perfect world, she would’ve been the adopted one. Our mom’s side of the family doesn’t have it. I can’t stand to see her suffering. She’s spent her entire life cooped up, trying to live…and when she found out I was invited onto the show, I couldn’t refuse her.” He laughs faintly. “She drove me crazy—begged me every five minutes until I agreed to bring her.”
My thumb caresses his palm, and I smile. And for the first time all night, his lips pull up into a hint of one as well, his eyes colliding with mine.
“Adam’s father owns the network. I asked him to swap with another producer. Took him off a serious show about the Amazon, but he agreed…for her.” His jaw tightens. “She deserves to live.”
Our shared silence returns; no words needed. I can’t control the intensity between us—the connection guiding my hand to his cheek, stroking the pain from his handsome face. He captures my hand there, his deep-blue eyes locked on mine as he brings it to his mouth and places a lingering kiss to my palm. My eyes flutter shut, and when they reopen, they’re met with a fiery hunger. Not one of lust, but something deeper…something I’ve never seen before. Something so primal and adoring it feels inherent.
The door in the back crashes open, and our heads snap toward it as Adam rushes inside. “It’s Emma!”
Cruz looks at me again, panic-stricken.
“Go,” I say, but he’s already running out of the building after Adam, leaving me there alone to pray for a miracle.
Confessional: Miles Newman
“It’s three o’clock in the morning, and the conversation got boring…because there’s no one here to tell us anything!
“I’m not complaining that all the exes are gone—thank you for that—I’m talking about the people who matter. Jas—er, Miranda. Where is she, exactly? Missing? Kidnapped?
“And Emma? Can we please get some kind of information on her status? We endure all the instigated drama of this place, but sometimes we accidentally start to give a shit about some of those around us. Seems like a fair trade for you to keep us i
nformed.
“If you’re even listening.”
Chapter 25
I wait in the hall outside Emma’s room, my thoughts jumbled, tears festering in my eyes. She needs a new kidney, needs to go home to her regular doctor…and above all, she needs her brother.
Everything’s topsy-turvy in my head when the door creaks open. I leap to my feet, desperate for any information. Court steps out, his face ashen and eyes thick with pained contemplation as he shuts the door behind him, Cruz and Adam still in the room.
“How is she?” My whisper’s as tense as my body, terrified of his reply.
He regards me deliberately, as though I asked about a mathematical theorem. “Tired. Angry. Stubborn. Beautiful.” He inhales his frustration and starts to walk away, across the courtyard.
“Where you going?”
“To find her some magazines or somethin’ to keep her distracted.”
My focus returns to her closed door just in time to jump out of the way when Adam storms out, yelling over his shoulder, “Empty threat, Cruz! The decision’s final.”
“Decision?” I block him and encroach upon what I’m sure is a private discussion, but damn it, I need answers!
He checks his watch, ignoring me, and pulls his cellphone from his pocket. One push of a button and it’s to his ear. “Cancel the plane. She’s staying.” His gaze fuses with mine as he hangs up and tucks it away. “It’s almost 3 a.m. You should call a cab to take you back to the house.” He reaches to retrieve his wallet.
“I’m not leaving her.” My protest is as adamant as I intend.
His lips curl and he nods, slipping his wallet away. “Well then, do me a favor and try to keep Cruz out of her room. She needs to rest, and if he stays in there, they’ll fight till she passes out again.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“She isn’t going to change her mind—trust me.” He rubs a hand across his scruffy jaw. “She’ll stay on this island until the end of the show, and whether I like it or not, it’s her life and her choice. I’m sure you can understand why Cruz is having some issues accepting that.”
“Yeah, but if she stays—”
“We’ll know more later this afternoon after her doctors go over the test results. Until then, her say goes.”
“You son of a bitch!” Cruz slams the door shut as he bursts outside. “You couldn’t just fucking back me, could you?”
“Lower your voice,” Adam growls in a slow, intimidating simmer.
“Fuck you!” Cruz snaps, moving closer. “She needs to go home to an American hospital!”
“Her doctor will have the results—”
“Not the same thing, and you know it! If something happens to her here, they won’t be able to…they don’t have…” He can’t complete the scary thought, his face twisted in a litany of emotion with terror at the forefront. “Damn it, I won’t let her die here!”
“Cruz,” I dare lightly, touching his arm.
He recoils. My hand falls away, leaving me uncertain until his rueful eyes snap to mine and plead, needing understanding that I give instantly. I reach for him again, and this time he clasps my hand halfway, interlocking our fingers while he looks to Adam.
“I’m not leaving her here, so don’t even ask me to go back to that house without her. And when the results come back, if anything is off, she’s going home whether she likes it or not.”
“Fine,” Adam pacifies him.
“Can I see her?” I blurt out, wanting to hear from her own mouth how she’s feeling.
“Yeah, I told her you’re here,” Cruz says, lowering his head and rubbing the back of his neck. I hear Adam leave us, though my attention is fixed on Cruz’s obvious fatigue.
A nurse walks out of another room, and I stop her. “Do you have a free bed around here to get a few hours’ sleep in?”
She nods, unlocks a door a little farther down, and points inside.
“Thank you,” I say as she leaves.
“Good idea.” Cruz’s entire body shifts to face me, our hands still linked. “You should sleep after you see her.”
“Actually,” I say, praying he’ll agree, “I was thinking you should go in there and rest. You’re exhausted—and not just your body, but…” I squeeze his hand, staring into those stormy sapphire depths. “It’s been a hard night for you. Please sleep.”
“I’ll take the chair in her room.”
I shake my head, my thumb tracing the scar on his knuckles. “Please, Cruz. I’ll stay with her the rest of night, and we can switch later if you want.”
“You’re staying?” He looks hopeful, and I smile.
“Of course. She needs friends right now. You need friends.”
A long silence stretches between us, with neither of our gazes averting, before he speaks. “Thank you, Harlow. Emma adores you.”
“Nothing to thank me for. I haven’t done anything. Emma’s amazing. I’m actually grateful for the show, because without it, I’d never have met her or Jas—I mean, Miranda—or Callie. Made it all worth it.”
“I know what you mean.” His free hand sneaks up between us, his thumb touching the contours of my cheek.
Maybe it’s exhaustion or purely the baser instincts that flare up when we’re together, but I can’t hold it in a minute longer. “I’m sorry about the grotto.”
“Harlow—”
“No, please, let me say this.” My eyes slam shut, and I find courage in my darkness. “I’ve only ever been with Oakley. I went out with Jake a few times, and there were occasional coffee dates with a couple guys that never went well, but what I’m trying to say is…I don’t know how to do this. I mean, I don’t know if what I feel for you is real or just the beginning of some…rebound. But Cruz, I’m almost sure it isn’t. Not that I know what it feels like, but it can’t feel like this or it wouldn’t be a bad word.”
I’m rambling now, and when I open my eyes I look anywhere but at him. “I feel so dumb saying this, but I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know it’s wrong because I came on this show with another guy, and then got engaged to him.” My voice quivers as how much has changed sinks in. I take my hand from his, needing some distance to express myself properly. “I’m not looking for a fling, and I think you’re incredible. So whatever this is that I’m feeling, please, just be honest with me…is it all in my imagination?”
I wait with my head ducked, my pulse sporadic. I see his legs move closer—too close—and then his finger hooks under my chin, demanding my attention.
“No, Harlow.” His lip quirks up and his eyes sparkle, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “It’s not.”
I never see it coming, since my mind is fogged with his words. His lips graze mine, lush and tender. His tongue glides across the seam of my lips, seeking an invitation as his arms wind around my body and draw me against him. With one hand on my hip and the other cradling the back of my head, he moves us two short strides forward and we collide with the wall. His body magnetizes to mine and I sigh against his mouth. His tongue swoops inside, stroking over mine with feral command.
My entire body purrs in pleasure and my hands plow through his hair, holding him closer as the kiss escalates. It’s different—invigoratingly superior to anything I’ve ever felt. His fingers dig into my flesh, a low growl humming from deep within him when I suck his tongue deeper, harder. It’s a heady mix of intense need, a familiar bond, devouring passion, and sweet adoration all combined beautifully.
When he breaks us apart reluctantly and places a final peck to the corner of my lips, my insides ignite from the smile on his gorgeous face.
“Emma still awake?” Court interrupts. We both look to see him walking over, with magazines and books stacked in his hands.
Neither of us reply, and his knowing chuckle tells us he understands why.
My attention returns to Cruz, who’s backing away slowly. “Good night, Harlow.” He winks, then disappears into the free room for some sleep.
“Hey, can I come in?” I ask when Cou
rt opens Emma’s door for me.
He moves aside so I can see her in the small bed. An IV is attached to her hand, but she’s wide awake, even though the sun has to be close to rising.
“Yeah.” She waves me in. “Court was just leaving.”
His eyelids squeeze together tightly, his jawline strained. He stands there for only a moment before walking to her bedside, leaning down, and taking her hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses it softly. “I’ll be back later. Sleep for me, darlin’.”
“I will.”
Not wanting to intrude on their moment, I survey every odd fixture in the room.
“Remember what you promised me,” she tells him.
“Yeah, but you promised to seal the deal.”
I glance in their direction subtly, and see her shy smile as he bends forward and claims her lips in the sweetest of kisses. The perfect gentleman, he then kisses her forehead. “Sleep now.”
She tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, blushing a wild pink and gives a slight wave.
He walks backward, eyes on her until he reaches the door, then notices me again. “Don’t keep her long.”
“I won’t,” I answer pointedly, noticing his attention’s still transfixed on the girl he’s leaving.
When he walks out and shuts the door behind him quietly, I make my way to the empty armchair beside Emma’s bed.
“Hey,” I offer weakly, unsure where she and I stand after our fight.
“Hey.”
I hate that it’s uncomfortable, but I know it’s my place to go first. “I never should’ve insulted your brother by hitting on him in the grotto. You’re right—it came off as me wanting a rebound. But I swear to you, it wasn’t…not intentionally, anyway. I liked him, I still do, and it’s confusing and scary. And more than anything, I don’t ever want you mad at me again.”
I lift my head that drooped during my rambling, and tense at the startling indifference in her expression. But I push on, hoping she’ll understand and forgive me. “Emma, I talked to Cruz. I apologized, and I think we’re in an okay place now.”
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