With a tortured laugh, I obey. The bed creaks under our combined weight. I brace one arm above her head, terrified of crushing her, but Ariel yanks my collar hard enough to pop a button. “Stop hovering. Lie down.”
“You’ll fall off the edge.”
“Then catch me.” There’s a ghost of her old teasing in her voice. “You’re good at that, when you’re not the one pushing me.”
She’s all sharp angles under the thin gown—hip bone jutting into my thigh, IV cord tangled between us. I settle on my side, hand hovering over her stomach. The bed wasn’t built for someone my size, let alone two people, but we manage.
Her head finds the hollow of my shoulder, breath warm against my throat. My palm stays pressed to the swell of her stomach, protective and possessive. Through the thin hospital gown, I can feel
