I brought my arms up to her back, pulling, clawing at the back of her shirt and burying my face in the crook of her neck.

She pressed her weight into me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one being held. I was holding her like I was afraid a breeze would blow her away.

I held on tight, tears running down my face and onto her skin like Gatorade poured overhead after a win.

Her soft, gentle voice pulled me from the tears and the pain, and I clung to it like a life rope. She ran her hands up and down my back and I squeezed her until my fingers ached.

She didn’t say a word, just held me until tiredness swamped me.

“Bay.” A quick knock at her door and her mom’s voice sliced through the moment. “Dare?”

I jerked back, dropping my arms and turning my face away from both of them.

“I’ll be right back.” Bay rushed from the room, closing the door behind her.

I scrubbed my hands down my face. Complete fucking idiot. That’s what I was. Keeping my gaze off her mirror—I didn’t need to see what the hell I looked like right now—I sat on the edge of her bed. My gaze shot to the half-open window. I wanted to climb out of it so I didn’t have to face anyone ever again.

The door opened and I looked up; my eyes felt like someone had scrubbed them with a brillo pad.

Bay came back and closed the door behind her. She had a washcloth in her hand, a towel and glass of water.

My vision throbbed in time to my pulse hammering inside my skull.

“I brought you some water.”

I took it and gulped it down like I’d been out on the field for two weeks, not two hours.

“Lay down.”

“Your mom—”

She set everything down on the desk beside her bed. “She’s fine, and she said you can stay as long as you need to.”

I opened my mouth.

The bed dipped where she sat beside me. “I didn’t tell her anything. Only that you couldn’t go home and needed to stay here for a while.” She held out the washcloth. “That can be for as long as you need.”

I dragged it over my face, letting the cool water wash over my skin. “I’m crashing with Knox. I don’t have to stay here.”

“Can you, though?” She took the damp cloth from my hands and rubbed the back of my hands. Her fingers smoothed over my tendons and sinew. “Lay down next to me.”

My gaze darted to the door.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down.

I held her close, breathing in her fresh scent mixed with paper and wood. Her guitar sat beside the bed. “Can you sing something for me?”

Her fingers skimmed along my forehead. “I can sing for as long as you’d like.”

I fell asleep in her arms with the story of us humming in my ears. No matter what happened next, I couldn’t let her go.