“Don’t call me hot, Mikey. It’s weird.”

He grinned at me. “Stop being hot, then.”

“She can’t stop being hot, silly,” Jayla huffed and rolled her eyes at me as if to say, “Boys.”

I laughed and crossed the room to kiss her forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, sweetie.”

She beamed up at me and then shot Mikey a smug look, making me laugh harder.

Mikey ignored her, giving me what I think was supposed to be a smoldering look. “How come Jayla gets a kiss goodbye and I don’t?”

“Don’t be creepy, Mikey.” I headed toward the door.

“What? So, being on the transplant list doesn’t even get me a sympathy make-out?”

I snorted. “Not from me.”

“That blows.” He thought about it a minute and turned to look at Annie, seated next to him. “What about you?”

She made a face. “I’m no one’s second choice, Michael Fuller.”

As entertaining as they were, as much as I’d love to spend every day with them, I couldn’t. “I have to catch my bus, guys. Thanks for hanging out with me.”

“We’ll see you next month?” Jayla asked, hope shining in her big blue eyes.

“Unless you’re out of here and back home, which I hope you will be, yes, I’ll be back next month.”

Those hard knots suddenly came back into focus as soon as I said my goodbyes and closed the common room door behind me.

“Is Anne-Marie around?” I asked, passing the nurses’ station.

A nurse I didn’t recognize shook her head.

“Will you tell her Nora said goodbye and I’ll see her next month, same time?”

“Of course.”

Like magic, as soon as I stepped outside and breathed in hot, thick city air strong enough to obliterate the hospital smell, the knots in my stomach disappeared.

I caught the bus back to Donovan and spent ninety glorious minutes reading. It was heaven, despite the fact that the air conditioning above my head appeared to be broken and sweat trickled down my back and pooled in my bra.

The familiar gloom I usually felt upon my return to Donovan wasn’t there, and I knew it was because my life wasn’t the same as it had been last month. The script for my life had been sitting on a dusty, worn-out coffee table only for Jim McAlister to come blasting into the room, throwing the papers into disarray. The script was all messed up now.

And I think that’s what I liked most about him.

Thinking about him as I got off the bus, and the last week of trying to sneak off and find time with him, I thought I almost imagined the sound of his voice saying my name.

When I turned around, he actually was standing outside May’s Coffeehouse with a to-go cup in his hand. I glanced toward the small parking lot and saw Roddy sitting on the hood of the Mustang.

Jim and I walked toward each other, and he looked perturbed.

Guilt suffused me, making me blush.

“I thought ye were working,” he said, nodding toward the bus I got off.

I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t intended to tell Jim about my volunteer work at the hospital because it felt … well, it felt too personal. Like I’d have to explain why.

And I didn’t want to. I wasn’t ready to talk about that.

However, I could see by the irritation growing in his eyes that I either explained partly or I’d damage our friendship. “I was. Well … not working but volunteering. At a kids’ hospital in Indianapolis.”

“Why didn’t ye just tell me that?”

I kicked at a stone by my foot, hiding my eyes, and thus the truth, from him. “It sounds … so Girl Scout,” I grumbled.

Jim laughed and gently chucked my chin, so I had no choice but to look up at him. “It’s adorable. Ye’er fuckin’ adorable.”

“Stop calling me adorable.” I grabbed his hand but didn’t let it go. “What are you and Roddy up to?”

“Well, I’m about to dump his arse so I can spend time with ye.”

I giggled. “You are such a good friend.”

“I’m the worst. But right now, I could give a fuck because I’ve been here a week and I still haven’t kissed ye … and I need to do something about that.”

The breath whooshed right out of me. “Oh.”

Jim gave me a slow, mischievous smile. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Jim, let’s dump Roddy.’”

I shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Why not?”

Laughing, Jim threw his arm around my shoulders and started walking us toward Roddy and the Mustang. “Roddy, I’m dropping ye off at the motel, mate.”

Roddy made a face of disgust and flopped back on the hood of the car. “For fuck’s sake.”

“If that kid doesn’t stop throwing you dirty looks, I’m going to stick this ice cream in her face,” Molly huffed as she came up beside me to pour diet soda into her customer’s cup.

I sighed. The kid Molly was referring to was Stacey. She was in here with her crew almost every time I was working a shift. “Don’t.”

“What’s her problem, anyway?”

“It’s Stacey Dewitte,” I said, so quietly it surprised me Molly even heard me.

“Shit. That’s Melanie’s little sister? I didn’t even recognize her.” Molly glanced over her shoulder, presumably at Stacey. “Why does she hate you? I thought you and Melanie were tight?”

“She doesn’t hate me. She’s just … disappointed, I guess.”

“In what? You don’t have to put up with that shit.” Molly put the lid on the cup. “You don’t—ooh, your boyfriend’s here.”

I followed her gaze. Jim and Roddy were walking into the restaurant. Smiling at them, I finished packing the to-go bag for my customer and took it over to her at the cash register.

“Have a nice day,” I said.

She moved away, and suddenly Jim was at my counter. He gave me a grim look that put me on alert. For two weeks, he and Roddy had stuck around Donovan, often going for short road trips when I was working or busy, but making their way back to town.

For me.

Whenever Roddy was with Jim, he complained constantly about still being here, but Jim was determined to spend time with me, and I continued to enjoy his company—a break from the monotony of my life.

“What’s up?” I asked.

But before Jim could answer, my attention was stolen by Stacey walking toward the exit with her friends. Her expression was sullen, but I saw the sadness in the back of her eyes too.

And I felt ashamed for disappointing her.

“Who is that?” Jim pulled my focus back.

“That is Stacey Dewitte,” Molly interrupted, putting her hand on her hip. She noted Roddy staring at her impressive chest and scowled at him. “Think again, Scottie.”

He crossed his arms and smirked at her. “Sweetheart, if I wanted ye, yer knickers wid be aroond yer ankles like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Molly made a face and turned to Jim. “What did he say?”

“Ye don’t want to know.” Jim fought not to smile. “Ye were saying … that kid?”

I opened my mouth to deflect, but Molly apparently was a fount of information today. “Melanie Dewitte’s little sister. Melanie was Nora’s best friend growing up.” She squeezed my arm. “She died of cancer when they were twelve.”

I wanted to throw her comforting hand off me and yell at her really freaking loudly. If I’d wanted Jim to know about Mel, I would’ve told him myself.

“Fuck.” He reached for my hand. “I’m sorry, Nora.”

My smile trembled. “Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

“Stacey’s acting like a brat, though, Nora. You don’t need to put up with that.”

“She’s not doing anything.” I shot Molly a shut-up look; she rolled her eyes and wandered back to her register.

“So, what brings you handsome and not-so-handsome fellas in today?” Molly changed the subject. “The fair Nora, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Jim stared at me, and I caught that bleakness in his dark gaze again.