Текст книги "Coming Home"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Here, have a little more,” Gram said, leaning over to put another slab of corned beef on Danny’s plate, and he shook his head, using his hand to deflect it as he chewed.

“Nuh-uh,” he said around his mouthful of food. “I’m tapping out.”

“Oh, come on now,” she said, swatting his hand away before dropping the piece of meat on his plate. “I’ve seen you eat more than this.”

“Gram, I’m seriously gonna puke,” he said, sitting back and holding both hands over his stomach.

“It’s a holiday, Daniel. You’re supposed to stuff yourself with good food on a holiday.”

Danny laughed, tossing his napkin onto the table. “I’ve never met a Sicilian woman so enamored with Saint Patrick’s Day. Aren’t you supposed to be wandering around the house mumbling something about ‘those damn Irish’?”

“Oh hush,” she said, taking her seat on the other side of the table. “Besides, it’s a holiday that involves cooking large amounts of food. That’s good enough for me.”

“You know, you’re only supposed to cook large amounts of food when you have a large amount of people who are going to eat it. This,” he said, gesturing to the spread on the table, “was a bit of an overshoot for two people, don’t you think?”

Gram shrugged. “I don’t know how to cook for only two people.”

Danny burst out laughing as he stood, grabbing his plate and hers. “This is true. I should be morbidly obese by now.”

Gram chuckled as he rinsed off their plates before putting them in the dishwasher, and then he did the same with the pans on the stove before he grabbed a few plastic containers and brought them back to the table so Gram could start packing up the leftovers.

“Here,” he said, handing one to Gram before he started to fill the other. “Do you want to save the cabbage, or will that go bad?”

“Daniel, we need to talk about something.”

“About what?” he said, piling the slices of corned beef into the container.

Gram placed her empty tupperware on the table. “Can you sit down first?”

Danny froze with his hand on the platter before he lifted his eyes to hers. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she stated simply.

He stood there for a few seconds, studying her expression, trying to assess her honesty.

She gestured to his chair. “Sit, please.”

Danny slid the fork back onto the platter before he walked back to his chair and sat down, shifting it so that he was facing her fully. He had only seen her look this way a handful of times, but they were all associated with bad memories.

It wasn’t anger or sadness that filled her eyes. Instead, it looked more like resignation. Or resolution.

Or both.

She smiled gently as she turned to face him.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and…it’s time,” she said.

“Time for what?”

Gram reached across the table and laid her open hand in front of Danny; instinctively, he brought his hand up from his lap and took it in his own.

She gave it a gentle squeeze before she said, “It’s time to let Bryan go.”

Her words had the effect of a battering ram to his stomach; first the stealing of his breath, followed by the immediate onset of panic, and then finally the staggering pain.

They were so unanticipated that Danny couldn’t even open his mouth to attempt a response. In some twisted way, there had always been comfort in the fact that Gram hadn’t given up. Danny knew Bryan wasn’t coming back, but the fact that she still believed…it made it seem like perhaps—in some far-off, remote world—there was the tiniest possibility it could happen.

He didn’t want her to give up. He needed her to believe, even when he couldn’t.

“It’s been long enough, Daniel. He’s tired. I know he’s so tired.”

Danny’s stomach was churning, and he swallowed repeatedly, trying to keep his dinner down.

No. Don’t give up on him.

“There’s a thin line between being hopeful and being selfish, and I think I crossed it a long time ago. I just hope he’ll forgive me for making him stay so long.”

“Gram,” Danny choked out, but his voice sounded strange, like it was coming from some place far away and not his own mouth. “Doctors aren’t always right. Maybe—”

She shook her head. “I know my Bryan. He would have come back to us if he could have. He would have fought and fought and fought. But he’s tired, love. It’s time for him to rest.”

Danny removed his hand from hers and ran it up through his hair before shaking his head. “We don’t have to decide this now.”

“Yes, we do,” she said softly.

“Why?” Danny snapped, slamming his hand down on the table.

Gram didn’t even flinch. Instead, her shoulders softened as her eyes met his. “Because I want you to be able to say your good-byes…before you go.”

The chair screeched abruptly as he stood from the table and walked through the kitchen. With a quick jerk of his arm, he swiped his keys off the half wall and strode out the front door, slamming it closed behind him.

Danny sat in the back seat of Leah’s car, staring at the buildings as they blurred past the window. Every so often he’d glance at the rearview mirror, watching the reflection of her eyes until they flicked up and found his. Whenever it happened, he’d feel his pulse slow in his veins, the nauseous swell in his stomach temporarily subside. Every time. As if she were somehow siphoning all of his anxiety, all of his suffering, with merely a look.

He looked over to where Gram sat in the passenger seat, her eyes trained on her purse, which sat primly in her lap. She’d been quiet all morning, lost in some faraway place, so that Danny found himself having to say something two or three times before she heard him.

After Danny had stormed out on her that night, he drove around aimlessly for two hours before he eventually ended up at Leah’s apartment. Gram had said she was doing it because she wanted Danny to have a chance to say good-bye.

But all Danny heard was that she was giving up on Bryan because of him.

It took Leah hours to convince him otherwise. But she was patient, and she was gentle. She let him rant. She let him yell. She let him pace. And she let him fall apart.

And then she lay with him until three o’clock in the morning, despite having to get up for work the next day, talking him off the ledge and helping him understand what it was really about.

Helping him see that Gram was right.

She offered to drive them to the hospital when it happened, knowing how difficult it would be for either one of them to make the drive back.

He never would have asked her to do something like that—to subject her to something as morbid as saying good-bye to someone who had spent the last year of his life in the ICU. She’d had enough of hospitals and good-byes. But he was selfish enough in that moment to accept the offer. And as they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and he caught her eyes in the mirror again, he forgave himself for the decision.

Because there was no way he would have been able to do this without her.

They walked up to the building in silence, Leah a step behind Gram and Danny as he traversed the corridors with ease, bringing them to the elevators that would take them up to the ICU. He’d done this so many times, his body could complete the task without the help of his mind.

But this time it felt foreign.

Every sound was amplified. The clicking of shoes on the linoleum. The squeak of wheels as machinery and beds were moved from place to place. The chatter of people. The delicate beeping that meant someone was surviving.

He wanted to plug his ears.

Gram had gone to the hospital earlier that week to complete all the paperwork, which meant the second the elevator doors opened, there was nothing left to do but go through with it.

There was no time to buy. No excuses to use. No reason to delay.

It felt like the walls of the elevator were closing in, and Danny reached out and put his hand on the wall to his left, pushing his weight into it, trying to keep it at bay.

He felt a hand on his back then, the feminine fingers splayed out as she applied gentle pressure, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of it until his arm finally went slack and fell from the wall. A few seconds later, the doors dinged open, and she kept her hand on his back, grounding him as they approached the nurses’ station.

When the woman behind the front desk saw them approaching, she stood and smiled gently at Gram.

“Mrs. Giordano. If you’ll have a seat right over there, I’ll have Dr. Racine paged for you.”

Gram nodded but didn’t move; she seemed frozen in place, and in that moment, something in Danny’s chest shifted slightly, just enough to remind him that he wasn’t the only one suffering.

“Come on, Gram,” he said softly, wrapping his arm around her and walking them over to the seating area. He felt Leah’s hand slip from his back, and a jolt of panic went through him, but he concentrated instead on the feel of Gram beneath his arm, thin and frail and trembling.

You’re not the only one. Don’t leave her alone in this.

They sat in two of the chairs, and Leah stood a few feet away, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes scanning the area. He could see she was trying to hold it together, and he felt the shift in his chest again.

He needed to be present now. He needed to shoulder this. For both of them. Because he’d be damned if he had to watch the women he loved take on any more of his burden.

A woman approached them then, dressed in lavender scrubs. She had one of those friendly faces that made Danny feel like he’d met her a thousand times, even though he’d never seen her before today.

“Hello. My name’s Amanda. I’ll be with Dr. Racine today.”

“Hello,” Danny managed softly.

“I know this isn’t easy,” she said. Her voice was like aloe on a sunburn, and for a moment, Danny found himself wondering if that was something they taught in nursing school. “Anything you need from us, please let us know. We’d like to support you in any way we can.”

Danny wet his lips as he looked down. “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to take a minute to walk you through the process so you know what to expect once we go inside. Is it okay if we do that now?”

Danny nodded, rubbing his hand up and down Gram’s arm. She was completely stoic, resting her head on his shoulder as she stared straight ahead.

“Okay. When you’re ready, the doctor will remove his breathing tube, and then I’ll turn off his epinephrine drip. After that, his blood pressure will drop, and his breathing will begin to taper off.”

He closed his eyes, biting the inside of his bottom lip until he tasted blood.

“We’ll be monitoring his vitals back at the nurses’ station. You can stay with him as long as you like.”

Danny cleared his throat before he lifted his eyes. “Will it hurt?” he managed.

“No. If Dr. Racine thinks it will take a while for him to pass, he’ll order some medication to make him comfortable. He won’t feel any pain.”

Although Gram’s mask-like expression hadn’t changed, Danny tightened his arm around her as he ran his hand over his eyes.

“What do you mean by a while? How long will it take?”

“We won’t know what we’re looking at until we see how his vitals respond without assistance. It could be a few minutes, or a few hours. In some cases, it could be a few days.”

Danny saw Leah close her eyes before turning away.

I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t.

“Do you have any other questions?” the nurse asked gently, placing her hand on Danny’s shoulder.

He kept his eyes trained on the floor as he shook his head.

“If you do, or if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask us.”

“Thanks,” Danny said hoarsely, looking down at Gram. Her glassy eyes were still fixed on some far-off point.

“Let us know when you’re ready,” she said before she stood, placing her hand on top of Gram’s before she continued on to the nurses’ station.

“Gram,” Danny said, and she blinked a few times before turning her head to look up at him. “Do you understand everything the nurse just said?”

After a few seconds, she nodded.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing his hand over her arm. “Okay…you let me know when you’re ready.”

Gram took a deep breath before she said, “I need to use the powder room.”

“Alright,” he said, moving to help her up, and when he took a step with her, she shook her head.

“I’d like to go alone.”

Danny gradually released his hold on her, making sure she was steady on her feet. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, giving his hand a squeeze before she let go and started down the hall, and he kept his eyes on her until she turned the corner and was out of sight.

Danny lowered himself into the chair behind him, dropping his forehead to his clasped hands. And then Leah was standing in front of him, resting her hand on the back of his head.

Without lifting his head, he reached forward, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her to stand in between his legs before he buried his face in her abdomen.

“This is…” he whispered.

“I know,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair before she leaned down and pressed her lips to his head, leaving them there as she added, “But he’ll never be gone, Danny. Because you still love him. And he’ll always exist through you because of that. They leave, baby, but they’re never gone.”

She straightened, and he lifted his head, resting his chin on her stomach as he stared up at her. She smiled a watery smile as she ran her fingers through his hair again. “You’re doing the right thing,” she whispered.

He nodded before pressing his face into her stomach again, and she stood there, caressing his hair until Gram returned from the bathroom.

“I’m ready,” she said softly, and Leah stepped back, allowing him to stand.

“Alright,” he said, running his hand over his eyes. “Let me just…I’ll…”

“I’ll go get them,” Leah interjected. “Stay here with her.”

He exhaled as Leah turned toward the nurses’ station, thankful for her offer; he didn’t think he’d be able to speak to anyone right now. He wasn’t even sure how he was still standing.

Gram came over and took his hand, holding it gently as they stood waiting for Leah to return.

A few minutes later, Dr. Racine turned the corner with the nurse named Amanda from earlier. He approached them and held out his hand, shaking Danny’s as he said something Danny didn’t hear. Instead, his eyes were on Leah where she stood a few feet away, her watery eyes pinned on him.

“I love you,” she mouthed.

“If you’ll follow me,” Dr. Racine said, pulling his attention from Leah, and Danny blinked quickly before he nodded.

The doctor and nurse walked a few steps ahead as he and Gram followed them into Bryan’s room.

This was usually the part where Danny could exhale; no matter how many times he walked through the ICU, it always unsettled him. Solemn faces. Voices barely above hushed whispers. No flowers. No balloons. Everything sterile. Angular. Cold. Machines beeping in a repetitive chorus of hope, or trilling in warning. Faces worn from vigils that had lasted days or weeks, or worse, the faces streaked with the tears of a vigil that had ended.

But then he’d get inside Bryan’s room, the door would close behind him, and he’d exhale. He’d pull up a chair and sit next to the bed, and he’d talk to his best friend as if they were sitting on the wall outside the shop having lunch. He’d tell him about his life, about work, about the guys. He’d tell him about the weather, about movies he’d seen. And most recently, he’d tell him about Leah.

It was a little piece of normal inside a cyclone of sorrow.

But today, as the door closed behind him, he didn’t exhale. He didn’t pull up a chair. He didn’t smile or talk or share.

He didn’t move at all.

Gram released his hand as Amanda guided her to the other side of the room, pulling up a chair for her to sit by Bryan’s bedside. Danny was still rooted to the floor as the doctor looked over the readouts on Bryan’s machines and the nurse helped Gram get comfortable in her chair. She said something to her that Danny couldn’t hear, and then Gram pressed her lips together before she nodded.

“Okay,” Amanda said, placing her hand on Gram’s shoulder before she turned to Dr. Racine, looking at him meaningfully.

Danny watched as he approached the side of the bed and took hold of the tube in Bryan’s mouth. When he stepped back a few seconds later, there was a small plastic cylinder still attached to Bryan’s lip by some medical tape, but the long, serpentine tube—the one Danny knew was sending life-giving oxygen into his lungs—was gone.

His eyes were drawn to Amanda on other side of the bed as she reached up and clicked a switch on the machine above Bryan’s head.

The drip. The thing that kept his blood pumping through his body.

Gone.

Something like panic fluttered in his chest, making it hard to breathe, and his eyes flew to Gram; she was sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the bed, smiling softly as she stroked her hand up and down Bryan’s arm.

He thought he’d made his peace with this. He’d known for a year now that Bryan wasn’t coming back. She was the one who had hoped. She was the one who had believed, against all odds, that one morning he would open his eyes. Danny had always known it was a pipe dream. He’d said his good-byes long before this.

So then why was this so hard?

Gram looked so calm—peaceful, even—and he felt like he was about to lose it. Like he wanted to pound his fists against the nearest object and scream until his throat was raw and bloody and his body collapsed in on itself.

The doctor slid a chair up to Bryan’s bedside opposite Gram, nodding at Danny before he walked to the other side of the room to consult with the nurse.

Danny walked the few steps over to the chair and sank down into it, pressing his hands into the tops of his thighs to try and stop them from trembling.

He stared at Bryan’s face, trying to make him appear. Trying to animate it. Trying to remember his mannerisms. His facial expressions. His laugh.

When Danny wasn’t with him, it was always so hard to do. He could conjure images, but the details were hazy, like looking at a picture on the bottom of a pool.

But with Bryan in front of him, everything was suddenly sharp. His impassive face provided the blank canvas for Danny to recreate image after image of his friend—happy, sad, confused, angry, amused—all crystal clear and perfect. Whenever he’d leave after a visit, Danny would always promise himself that this time, he wouldn’t forget. He’d replay the images in his mind like a slideshow as he drove home, trying to commit their clarity to permanent memory. But it was like trying to hold water in his fist.

He failed every time.

Bryan’s face was thinner than Danny’s memories, something he’d gradually grown accustomed to, but today his jaw was covered in a light five-o’clock shadow. Gram and the nurses had spent the last year keeping up a steady system of shaving him, cutting his hair, his fingernails.

Preserving him.

But no one had shaved him today.

Dr. Racine approached Gram’s side of the bed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be too much longer now,” he said gently.

Danny straightened as his stomach jolted, sending bile up into the back of his throat.

No. NO.

His heart started racing, urging him to do something. Ask them to perform CPR. Beg them to hook the tube back up. Plead with them to restart the drip.

Don’t. Don’t go yet. Not yet.

His eyes darted to the monitor above the bed; the nurse had silenced it before she turned the drip off, but he could see the long green line, adorned with miniature spikes—tiny hills that crested with every beat of his heart.

Getting further and further apart.

“Come on, Bry. Fight,” he choked out, dropping his head so that his forehead rested on Bryan’s arm.

And then he heard her voice.

Gram was singing to him in her soft, ethereal way—the familiar words he’d heard hundreds of times in his life, whenever he or Bryan was restless, or hurt, or sick.

Or drifting off to sleep.

He’s my treasure, he’s my joy

He’s my pleasure, he’s my boy.

If he ever went away, lonesome I would be

‘Cause he’s my angel, my baby.

Those words had soothed him so many times, but today they rolled off him like drops of rain down the window—fleeting and futile.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut as a barrage of images assaulted him. Bryan’s life, flashing before his eyes—he wasn’t the one dying, but he could feel it happening. He could see it all unfold, as if Bryan were sharing the last few moments of his life with him.

Danny under the deck with a broken leg as Bryan held his hand, reciting batting averages with him to help keep his mind off the pain.

Bryan hanging over the fence of the dugout, shouting and cheering as Danny scored the tying run in their high school’s championship game.

Danny helping Bryan sneak out of his bedroom window to go meet up with his girlfriend on Valentine’s night.

Bryan and Danny sitting on his bedroom floor, laughing hysterically.

Hanging out in the garage, talking into the night under the hood of car.

Trick-or-treating in their matching Batman costumes, because neither one of them wanted to be Robin.

Sharing their first beer in the alley behind the grocery store the summer before eighth grade.

Standing in the middle of the vacant building they’d just purchased, toasting with embarrassingly cheap champagne to the shop they envisioned within its walls.

And then, two little boys. One sitting on the steps outside his house and the other stopped on the sidewalk.

“Hey,” he said curiously. “Why are you sitting outside by yourself?”

The one on the steps shrugged. “‘Cause my mom’s not home.”

“Oh. Well, when will she come home?”

The boy scratched his knee. “Dunno.”

After a few seconds of silence, the other said, “Well…you wanna come to my house? I have a new video game, but it needs two players. My gram doesn’t know how to play it.”

The boy on the steps looked up. “Um…okay.”

“Cool. I’m Bryan.”

“Danny.”

“Do you have any video games?” he asked as Danny approached.

“Not a lot.”

“That’s okay. You can bring what you have next time. We can play every day.”

And for the first time since he woke up that morning, Danny smiled. “Okay.”

“You saved me,” he whispered into the sheet, his forehead still pressed against Bryan’s arm. “You saved me, and I didn’t save you.”

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

He gritted his teeth until he felt pain in his jaw, chanting the words like an incantation, until they lost all meaning and form and sounded odd in his ears, like indecipherable words from some foreign language.

“Time of death, one nineteen p.m.”

Danny whipped his head up; the monitor was still, the long green line smooth and placid.

Final.

Amanda was hugging Gram, rubbing her back gently as she said something in her ear, and Danny felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dr. Racine said. “Please, take as much time as you need.”

Danny didn’t move as the doctor and the nurse left the room. He didn’t move as Gram tucked the blanket around Bryan, as if she really had just sung him to sleep. He didn’t move as she leaned over and kissed his forehead before brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“My angel boy,” she said gently. “You always had my heart, and you have it still. It’s how I’ll find you when it’s time for us to meet again.”

She turned then and gathered her things before walking carefully toward the door. As she passed Danny, she placed her hand on his arm, giving him a feeble squeeze before she continued out into the hall.

And still, he didn’t move.

He couldn’t. Not before he memorized all of Bryan’s facial expressions. Not before he committed the images to memory. Not before he was sure he could preserve the exactitude of each and every one. He couldn’t let them fade away this time.

Because now, there’d be no way to get them back.

Leah held on to Catherine’s arm as they walked her through the side yard toward her house with Danny supporting her on the other side. She had cried silently on the drive home, the tears trickling discreetly down her face. Every so often she would lift her hand to dab at them with a tissue, but otherwise she didn’t move.

Leah had checked the rearview mirror frequently throughout the drive, but this time Danny wasn’t looking for her. He wasn’t looking for anything. He sat with his forehead on the window—his glassy, bloodshot eyes staring without seeing at whatever was passing by.

As soon as they parked in Catherine’s driveway though, he seemed to snap out of it. His expression was guarded, his voice detached, but he was moving and functioning as he took care of Catherine, helping her out of the car while whispering reassuring words to her.

They helped her into the house, and Danny put on a pot of tea as Leah helped her change out of her clothes. The doctor had prescribed her a small script of sleeping pills for the next few days, and as soon as they all sat down with their mugs, she was asking for one.

Leah could remember that desperate desire for sleep, the need to disappear into a world that offered some type of reprieve from reality, or better yet, a world where—if you were lucky—you would have the good fortune of seeing the person you missed more than anything. She used to dream of her mother often when she was younger, to the point that sometimes she’d have her pajamas on before dinner was even on the table, anticipating the moment she could close her eyes and find her.

Danny spent a few minutes reading the label of the pills, checking the warnings and the drug interactions. Leah could see he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of giving them to her, but she also knew that he’d move a mountain with his bare hands right now if she asked him to.

He wasn’t going to deny her, no matter how much he disapproved.

They sat with her after she had taken the pill, and when she started to fade, Danny lifted her up like a child, carrying her to her bedroom and tucking her in.

When he came out of her room a minute later, Leah looked up from where she was rinsing their teacups in the sink. His eyes found hers, holding them.

She turned off the water before drying her hands on the towel. “Hey,” she said softly.

He slid his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorjamb of Catherine’s room. “Hey.”

Leah tossed the towel over the drain board. “Is she sleeping?”

He nodded.

She stepped out of the tiny kitchen, stopping just inside the living room, and the way he was looking at her made her feel like someone had punched a hole in her chest.

God, she remembered that hurt.

She remembered the feeling of being so lost, she thought she’d never find her way again. The feeling that things were always going to be this bad.

That she was going to spend the rest of her life trying to be whole again.

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t true. That eventually, the hurt lessens. That one day he’d be able to think of Bryan and smile instead of curling up in a ball to ward off the ache. That while he’d never get this piece of himself back again, he’d find other pieces to counteract the pain and make it manageable.

But she knew the words would mean nothing to him now. They meant nothing to her when people said them countless times in those early weeks. They were empty promises, meant to appease, and nothing more.

Instead, she asked him the one question no one had ever thought to ask her in the weeks that followed her mother’s death.

“What do you need?”

Danny took a breath before lifting his eyes to hers. “I need to go home,” he said. His voice was soft but resolute, and Leah nodded before she turned to grab her purse from the couch.

He was quiet again once they got in the car, and when Leah reached over and placed her hand on his leg, he covered it with his own, prolonging the contact as he held her there.

As they drove back to his apartment, Leah couldn’t help but think of how many times she’d wished she had the chance to say good-bye to her mother. It had always been one of the things that hurt her the most about the situation—the fact that she was suddenly gone, with no notice or warning. Leah had managed to convince herself that if she had just gotten the chance to see her, speak to her, say something to her before she passed, it wouldn’t have hurt as much.

But watching Danny today, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Having to say good-bye to someone you love carried its own caliber of pain, and she couldn’t be sure which was worse anymore.

His hand was still on hers when they pulled up to the curb in front of his building, and Leah turned to look at him.

“Do you want to be alone?” she asked.

Danny turned to her, his eyes meeting hers before he shook his head.

“Okay,” she said gently, and he released her hand as she put the car in park and cut the engine.

They rode the elevator up to his apartment in silence; Danny’s eyes were trained on the floor as he chewed the inside of his lip, and Leah rested her head on his shoulder until they arrived at his floor.

He seemed distracted as he opened the door to his apartment, and Leah followed him inside, putting her purse on the entryway table.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” she asked.

“No,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

He was standing in the living room with his back to her, and she walked over to him, placing her hands on the sides of his waist as she rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder. After a few seconds, he turned to face her, and Leah lifted her head, looking up at him.

He stared down at her for a moment before he dropped his eyes, watching his hand as he hooked two fingers in the front pocket of her jeans. She saw him wet his lips, and then he gave a gentle tug, pulling her a step closer as his other hand came to the hem of her shirt, taking it between his thumb and forefinger.

Danny’s eyes were trained on his fingers as he toyed with the soft fabric, and then his knuckle grazed her belly button as he started pulling it up slowly. When her stomach quivered in response, he glanced up, his eyes meeting hers before they dropped again.

And then he slid it up a bit higher.

She lifted her arms out of reflex, and suddenly, her shirt was off. He tossed it somewhere behind her before he hooked his fingers in the front of her jeans and gave her another tug.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder as his fingers came to the button of her jeans. She felt it pop open as he exhaled against her skin. “I’m sorry. I just…”