Jamie’s chuckle was low and familiar. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, she cares about you. That much is clear.’
‘Squarely in the friend zone,’ he said, fighting tears of his own. He’d already lost it once. He was not going to cry on top of it all.
‘Maybe. Maybe not. She’s been walking in a fog for four years, Thorne. Let her wake up a little more. Let her feel like she’s in control of her own decisions. Let her be in control of her own decisions.’
‘And if she decides that I’m not worth the risk?’
Jamie sighed. ‘Well, I would question her sanity, but I’m a little biased in your favor. But seriously, if she decides that, then you respect it and find a way to move forward. Easier said than done, I know. But you won’t be entirely alone. You still have family, Thorne. And we won’t leave you. Ever.’
Thorne’s eyes stung. ‘Thank you.’
Jamie rolled his chair away from the table. Moments later, Thorne was enfolded in strong arms that had been there for him for more than half his life. The same strong arms that had held him when he’d collapsed after learning of Sherri’s death, too shocked to cry. He’d shaken so hard he’d thought his bones would separate, and it had been Jamie who’d held him together.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘For being all I’ve ever needed.’ He lifted his head and rested his forehead against Jamie’s, the gesture one he’d learned from his father and had shared with Jamie all these years.
Jamie’s palms held Thorne’s cheeks lightly, then he backed away. ‘I’ve got to get some sleep. As Gwyn so wisely pointed out, we need to be alert and on guard tomorrow. And every day thereafter until this is just a bad memory.’
‘This too shall pass,’ Thorne murmured, and shoved to his feet as wearily as Phil had, which made him worry about his old teacher all over again. ‘Jamie, is Phil okay?’
Jamie stiffened. ‘Why?’
Thorne rolled his eyes, but new dread seemed to settle around them. ‘Oh, like that was subtle.’ He could hear the panic in his own voice. ‘Tell me what you know.’
Jamie scrubbed his palms over his face. ‘He’s seeing a cardiologist. He’ll be okay, but he might need a procedure before it’s all fixed up. Probably just a balloon angioplasty. It’s not that bad.’
Thorne had trouble sucking in a breath. Fear, even more visceral than before, had taken hold of his throat, and he had to force the words out. ‘Which one of us are you trying to convince? How long has this been going on?’
‘Not long. A few weeks. He wanted to tell you, but couldn’t find the right time. Today was definitely not the right time. But let him tell you himself, Thomas. And when he does, know that he will be all right.’ Jamie’s lips trembled and he firmed them resolutely. ‘He’s a tough bastard. A lot tougher than he looks.’ He raised a brow. ‘So get some rest tonight. Don’t make him worry about you even more, okay?’
Thorne exhaled in a rush, suddenly lightheaded at the thought of losing Phil. It could not happen. But Jamie looked terrified, even though he was trying to hide it, so he dug deep and found some sass. ‘Guilting me much?’
Jamie pasted a smile on his face. ‘Only because it works. Goodnight, Thomas.’
‘Goodnight.’ Thorne waited until Jamie had wheeled from the room before sinking back into the kitchen chair and dropping his head into his hands once more.
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 12.30 A.M.
Gwyn carefully closed the door to Thorne’s bedroom and slumped, wanting to bang her head against the wall. God, I’m such a bitch. Throwing that tantrum in front of her hosts. Why can’t I ever just keep my damn mouth shut?
But she had kept her mouth shut. For the past four years she’d been holding everything inside.
And Thorne had been silently waiting. All that time.
The knowledge thrilled and terrified her in equal measures.
A quiet knock on her door made her jump. She pulled it open to find a tired-looking Phil. ‘I’m so sorry to bother you, Gwyn. I need to look for the air mattress.’
Cheeks heating, she stepped aside to allow him entry. ‘You really don’t need to. I’ll sleep on the sofa.’ She glanced at the California king bed that took up nearly all the square footage of the room. ‘This is his bed. Besides, I can’t take all the Baywatch.’ She gestured to the posters. ‘That’s a lot of cleavage.’
Phil winced. ‘You can take them down if you want. We put them up as a joke. Ended up not being the right night for that kind of humor. But good luck getting Thorne to change his mind about the sofa, although Jamie and I thought you made an excellent attempt.’
Gwyn sighed. ‘I’m not normally so impolite.’
‘We took no offense. Just the opposite, actually. You care about him. And you saw him near death today. I’d say you’re entitled to a little upset.’
Her legs went rubbery at the reminder and she sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve never seen him so still,’ she whispered. ‘Thorne is always full of life. But today he wasn’t. He scared me.’
‘You acted quickly and probably saved him. We’re grateful.’
‘I . . . He’s important to me too.’
Phil patted her shoulder and sank down to sit on the bed beside her. ‘You didn’t know he had feelings for you?’
‘No,’ she whispered, then frowned. ‘Did he tell you?’
‘No. Thorne’s never been that open with his feelings. But we could tell by the way he speaks about you, and the way he looks at you. And we could tell something had happened when you went to wake him up earlier. You both looked upset. You looked bewildered. He looked shattered.’
Gwyn closed her eyes, regret a sharp spear in her chest. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt him. But I didn’t know.’ Not until Lucy had raised the possibility early this morning. Or at least I didn’t know that I knew. She looked into the kind eyes of Thorne’s foster father and decided to trust him because Thorne did. ‘I’m confused. I don’t want to hurt him, not ever. I just don’t know what to do.’
‘You’re allowed to be confused. You’re allowed to take your time to figure things out. And once you have, you’re allowed to say no. Although,’ he continued when her mouth fell open, ‘I don’t know why you would. He’s a fine catch.’
‘Yes, he is. All the women want him.’
‘And yet he’s had no one for years.’
‘Four years,’ she murmured. Again the knowledge that he’d waited all that time. ‘I don’t know why he’d even bother with me. I’m . . . messed up. And not always very nice.’
‘He seems to like you anyway,’ Phil noted. ‘You don’t have to decide tonight or even tomorrow. Just don’t keep him hanging too long. I have to say, though, the timing of his revelation is very unfortunate. Blurting it out on a day that was already intense doesn’t sound like the careful Thorne we know. Why now?’
She pursed her lips, considering her answer, then shrugged. ‘I found him in time this morning because I’d just discovered that he’d been chasing all my dates away. I’d gone to yell at him.’
Phil chuckled. ‘All right. That sounds like the Thorne we know. It was a shitty thing to do, but I can picture him doing it.’
‘This evening I made him tell me why. Lucy warned me that this might be the case, that he had feelings for me, so I wasn’t, like, blindsided.’
‘But?’ Phil prompted.
She shook her head, uncomfortable saying more. Uncomfortable that he’d felt that way for seven fucking years. That was a fifth of his life, wasted.
‘He needs to be focused right now,’ was all she could think to say. ‘We all do.’
‘I agree,’ Phil said. ‘And on that note, I’ll say goodnight. I’ll leave getting Thorne to sleep in your capable hands. You’ll find sheets and a blanket in his closet.’
He left the room, but Gwyn didn’t move. Sitting on the edge of Thorne’s big bed, she stared up at the wall of posters featuring Pamela Anderson and every other big-bosomed actress of the 1990s. It was a side of Thorne that she hadn’t anticipated, and it made her . . .