“Or the drugs. We are too cautious, though. At least I am. If you hadn’t said anything last weekend, I never even would have sung Nina. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten to know Charles at all.”

I study him. His brows are still low, eyes sharp despite the fog of medication.

“Promise me you’ll talk to Andrea about the design stuff. For Meryton.” He holds up his hand, warding off the protest I almost formed. “You don’t want me talking to Charles about it and I won’t. But you should talk to Andrea. You’ve let what happened hold you back for too long. Like I have, because of Marcus.”

I blink in surprise. Jane and I have an unspoken agreement to maintain a polite distance from one another’s major traumas, and he’s just referenced both of them in a single breath. We talked around my past after brunch with Andrea, but Marcus? We don’t even say his name. It’s why he gave me the bedroom at our apartment: it had been theirs, and Jane didn’t want anything to do with a space they’d shared so intimately.

Jane lifts his chin and points to himself. “Right? Big stuff.” He grips my hand. “You heard the doctor today. A few more inches in either direction, and that thing could have killed me, Ben. It’s crazy I only got clipped.” He sighs. “There’s enough out there that can actually take you out. No point in hiding from the things that will only hurt your heart.”

“Dance like nobody’s watching,” I say, trying to parse out how much of this he’s going to remember in the morning. “Live like a giant piece of metal could rust free of its bolts and crush your skull tomorrow. That’s inspirational. It’d be a lot to cross-stitch, but I think it would look great next to the front door. We can commission Ming.”

He smacks my arm. “Don’t make fun. I’m being wise.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Does Ming even cross-stitch?”

“I’ll ask.” I squeeze his hand, and he chuckles.

I lay my head on my arms. He has a point, and I should focus on it. Instead, I find myself tracing along the fingers of my right hand, following the path Darcy made with the towelette, and thinking about the way he looked at me earlier. What were you looking for, Will Darcy?

“Hey.” Jane nudges me. “Seriously. Promise you’ll talk to Andrea about the design plans.” His voice is heavy with sleep and pharmaceuticals.

“I will.” I kiss his hand. He smiles, closing his eyes. “Promise.”

CHAPTER

7

I adjust the microphone of my headset. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”