A gentle stroke. Then a little harder. Slower. Then faster. I catalogue his reactions, noting which ones have a higher value and making sure to repeat those with greater frequency. There’s an order of importance—when he bites his lip, when his breathing falters, when his eyes fall shut, and especially when he groans out loud.

“Reese, I can’t . . .” His shoulders shake and his entire body shudders. His eyes squeeze shut, mouth twisted in pleasure, and I watch in fascination as he erupts all over my stomach.

He leans forward, resting his head on my shoulder while his breathing eases and the shower washes away the evidence of our time together.

I trace the muscles in his back. “That was . . .” For the first time, I don’t have any words.

He pulls his head back, meeting my eyes. “I hope you’re about to say something synonymous with good. Or maybe great? Stupendous?”

I laugh. “Something along those lines. And enlightening. Educational.”

“If you need to do any more learning, I’m available to provide instruction.”

“Good to know.”

We share a laugh and then the water temperature drops by ten degrees.

Fitz grimaces and shuts the tap off. “I guess we’ve been in here awhile.”

He steps out of the shower and hands me a clean towel from the rack. “Here.”

A banging on the door makes me jump.

“Fitz! Are you in there?” Annabel’s voice is high and strained.

“Yeah.” His startled eyes meet mine and the toweling ceases. “What’s going on? Is it Dad?”

“No. Not Dad.” She stops and the sound of people laughing and the hum of the crowd fills the space. Then she speaks again. “It’s Abby. She’s in the hospital.”

20

I’m a Texas guy, and the good and bad of that is that I’m always, first and foremost, loyal.

—Jared Padalecki

Fitz

I scramble to cover up, wrapping the towel around my waist. Reese stays hidden behind the door while I crack it open.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Momma didn’t say much. She’s on her way to the hospital to be with Abby’s parents. All I know is it was some kind of car accident. She said she’s been trying to call you. They’ve all been trying to see if you knew what was going on.”

Abby called me. Right before we showered and I ignored it. How could I have discerned her normal attention-seeking behavior from a real emergency? “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. You gotta come though. Sorry, Reese.”

Reese makes a sound of assent and understanding, still hiding behind the door in nothing but a towel. Though she’s biting her lip, expression worried.

“I’ll be right out,” I tell Annabel.

“I’ll pull my car out front. Hurry.”

I shut the door and immediately turn and take Reese in my arms.

This is not how I pictured the rest of this night going.

“I hope she’s okay,” Reese whispers into my neck.

“Me too.”

“I feel . . . awful. I never liked her.”