The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(15)

I pulled away from her before my dick took it upon itself to broadcast to Violet those exact thoughts. I wanted her, badly, but she needed to know how much I loved her first.

She clutched the paper with both hands. “I can’t believe it. The PCV is, like, the program I need for my transcripts. The icing on the cake for my med school prospects.”

I smirked. “You’ve mentioned that once or twice.”

“Smartass.” She gave me a friendly punch on the arm, then flipped to the second page. “Let’s see who I’m assigned to. I hope it’s you.”

I leaned my ass against her desk, casual, not letting it show on my face how much I hoped it was me too.

I didn’t want a Patient Care Volunteer unless it was Violet, but my endocrinologist recommended it for me. Managing my diabetes was difficult, more difficult than most. If the universe were being benevolent, it would be my name and address that Violet read. She’d come to my place twice a week, helping me manage my glucose, insulin, needle care and replacement, and making sure my fridge was stocked with food that my meal plan required. Violet did most of that stuff already, whether I asked her to or not, but if she were officially assigned to me, she’d have to leave her endless studying and her new popular friends two afternoons a week. I’d have her all to myself.

But not only was the universe distinctly un-benevolent, it was downright cruel.

“Oh my God,” Violet breathed, sinking onto her bed. She looked up at me with those dark blue eyes that were now lit up with fear.

“Well? Who is it?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Patient privacy.”

“Come on, Vi. It’s me. You know I’m not going to say a word.”

Violet bit her lip. “Swear to me you won’t tell. Because it’s serious. More serious than I expected.”

“I swear.”

She lowered her voice. “I’ve been assigned to Nancy Whitmore. River’s mom.”

River fucking Whitmore. Of course.

I cleared my throat. “She’s sick?”

Violet nodded. “It doesn’t give details here, but just the other day, Dad took his car to the Whitmore Auto Body shop. When he came back, he and my mom were talking in low voices. I heard the word ‘cancer’ more than once.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Jesus, poor River. That’s probably why he hasn’t been hanging out with us this summer.”

Us was relative, but I let it slide. I never hung out with Vi and her popular friends, but I had been selfishly celebrating that Violet’s summer had been relatively River-free. And it was because his mom was sick.

The universe is a straight-up asshole.

I felt like one too.

She looked up at me fearfully. “God, what if it’s bad?”

“What do they expect you to do?” I asked, the urge to protect her rising in me. “Not heavy-duty shit?”

“No, no, simple things like changing bedding, bringing her food, reading to her, making her comfortable.”

I scowled. “Sounds like end-of-life stuff to me.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Are you up for that?”

Violet nodded and sat straighter, her trademark stubborn, determined look painted over her features. “I can do it. I want to help. And if I’m going to be a doctor, this is part of it, right? The good and the bad?”

“I guess so.” Making sure a seventeen-year-old diabetic ate his vegetables wasn’t in the same ballpark as taking care of a dying woman.

Violet waved her hand. “But it might not be as serious as we think. She could be in treatment and recovering. We shouldn’t jump to the worst-case scenario.”

I said nothing. In my experience, the only way to prepare for anything was to assume the worst. That night, I should have taken my own advice.

“Just be careful,” I said. “If it’s too much, tell them.”

Violet smiled. “I will.”

You won’t.

If River’s mom was terminal, Violet would stick with her to the end, no matter how much of a mental toll it took. And the bitch of it all was that she’d be in River’s house twice a week. I hated that jealousy gnawed at my guts when the poor guy’s mom might be dying, but I knew what would happen. Violet would Florence Nightingale her way into being more enamored with River Whitmore, and he’d fall in love with her compassion and bravery. How could he not?

It’s what I did.

Violet caught my dark expression. “I’m sorry I wasn’t assigned to you, but I’m glad you’ll have someone helping. Don’t give your PCV a hard time, okay?”

“Who, me?”

“I’m serious. I worry about you.”

“Don’t.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Like that’s possible.” She tilted her head and stood up, took a step closer. I could smell her perfume and the soap she used in the shower. “You look a little pale, right now actually. Are you feeling low? Do you need a snack?”

“I don’t need a snack,” I practically shouted, making her flinch.

The song I’d come to sing for her felt stupid and incredibly selfish after the severity of her assignment. And how could I tell her what I felt while her thoughts were entirely filled with River?