“Oh.” She avoids my gaze.

“You’re worried about Matt, aren’t you?” I ask her. I frame her face with my hands and look into her eyes.

She nods. “He’s been sleeping too much. I don’t think it’s good.”

We all dance around the fact that Matt will be going back to the doctor two days from now to find out his prognosis. Everyone but Kit. She thinks about it a lot, I think. I try not to think about it at all. “You want to stay home so you can keep an eye on him?” I run a hand down the length of her hair and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Would you mind?” she asks. She looks hopeful.

“You know Pete’s here,” I remind her.

“Pete’s knocking boots in the bedroom. How’s he going to know if Matt’s ok or not?”

She’s right. “Thanks for staying,” I say. I kiss her forehead again. “I’m taking Sam with me. Send for me if you need me for anything, ok?”

She nods. She flops back on the bed and I want to climb on top of her. But I have to go. Sam beats on the wall. I can feel the vibration of it. “What do you want, Sam?” I ask.

“Her,” he says, grinning. He waggles his brows at Kit.

I punch his shoulder. “She’s taken.”

Kit grins, shaking her head. She has gotten used to all of us. I walk over to her and tip her head up to look into her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

“Count on it,” she says.

Emily

I step closer to Matt’s door, listening intently for signs of life. He’s been really tired for the past few days, and I’m worried for him. I’m really worried for him. And for Logan and the rest of them. None of them have come to terms with the fact that Matt is dying. They all overlook it, like pretending it’s not going to happen is going to help him.

His voice, weak and tired, funnels through the crack in the door. “Don’t just stand there breathing hard. Come on in.”

I open the door and smile at him. “You could not hear me breathing.”

He chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound. “I heard your footsteps. You should learn to be more stealthy. Like Paul. He came in last night and stood over me, watching me breathe for about an hour.” He adjusts, fluffing a pillow and jamming it behind his head. “He thinks I was asleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell him you were awake?” I ask. “You two could have talked.”

He harrumphs. “He doesn’t want to talk. He wants to fix everything. But I’m afraid I can’t be fixed.”

“You don’t know that.”

He heaves a sigh. “I know it.”

I can’t say anything past the lump in my throat.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

I still can’t find my tongue, so I nod.

“That good, huh?” he rolls toward me, his arm beneath his pillow.

“Matt,” I start. But I stop, bite my lower lip and shake my head. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

“You still running Logan in circles?” he asks.

I bite back a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughs. “It’s good for him. Keep up the good work.” He narrows his eyes. “He’s never had to work for anyone before. Women came easily for him.”

My face floods with heat when I realize what he said.

He laughs. “Yeah, that, too.” He points across the room. “You remember those letters I told you about?” he asks.

I nod. I don’t want to talk about letters. Because when I deliver the letters, he’ll be gone.

“They’re in my top drawer. My dresser.” He nods his head in that direction. “When the time is right, be sure they get them?”

I nod. “I will. I promise.”

“There’s one for you too.”

I don’t want mine. “Ok.”

He takes my hand in his and squeezes it tightly. I can tell the action takes a lot out of him. “What do you want to do tonight?” he asks.

I shrug. “Sit here with you.”

He smiles at me. And I see so much of Logan in him that it hurts. He rolls to the edge of the bed and lifts himself up to sit. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

I nod, taking his hand in mine to help him to his feet. He lets me, but he groans as he gets up. “You sure you can do this?” I ask.

“Remember when I told you I was going to suck every minute out of life that I could?” He stares at me. I am a little worried that he’s trying to gather enough energy to walk into the living room.

“Let’s go suck at life,” I say. “Do you want some popcorn?” I ask over my shoulder. He’s following me.

“Why not?” he asks flippantly. “Popcorn and I’m going to snuggle with Logan’s girl.” His voice is farther behind me. But he’s coming, so I start the popcorn. The steady pop, pop, pop has started when I realize he hasn’t followed me into the kitchen.

There’s a thud in the hallway, and I jump. “Matt?” I ask, walking back in that direction. But Matt’s lying on the floor. He’s drooling, and his body is convulsing. “Oh, shit,” I say. “Matt!” I yell. I roll him onto his side, because I heard that’s what you do when someone convulses. Or maybe it’s that you’re supposed to roll him onto his back. Shit, shit, shit. I don’t know. “Pete!” I yell.