Beautiful Oblivion (The Maddox Brothers, #1)(92)

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Because I’ve been in love with you since grade school, Chamomile. And everyone knew it. Everyone.”

“I’m still not sure I believe that.”

“You wore ponytails every day for years. They were perfect.” His smile faded. “And that sad look in your eyes. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make you smile. And then you were mine, and I could never get it right.”

“I’ve had a lifetime of wrong. You’re the only thing that’s right.”

Trenton pulled something from his pocket, and let a small, silver key dangle from a key chain. It was a black strip of felt fabric with C-A-M-I spelled out in bright colors, bordered with black stitching. I pressed my lips together and then pulled my mouth to the side.

“What do you say?” he asked with hope in his eyes.

“Move in? Give up my apartment?”

“All in. You and me. Drinking to weird toasts after work, and Chicken Joe’s on Monday nights with Olive. Simple, just the way you like it.”

There was so much to think about, but after what we’d just been through—twice—the only thing I could focus on was what Trenton had said. There was only one thing that mattered. “I say yes.”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I said, giggling at his expression, and then winced. My entire body ached.

“Hell yes!” he yelled, and then offered a sheepish grin when I motioned for him to keep quiet. “I am so f*cking in love with you, Cami.”

I scooted over in my bed, clumsily and slowly, and then Trenton—carefully and with much effort—made his way in. He was just as sore as I was. He pushed a button on the side rail that leaned us back until we were lying flat, facing each other.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I really have loved you since we were kids,” he said quietly. “And now I get to love you ’til we’re old.”

My stomach fluttered. No one else had ever loved me as much as he did. “Promise?”

Trenton smiled with tired eyes. “Yes. And then I’ll promise you again after I dance around in a thong to Britney Spears.”

I managed to let out a small chuckle, but the pain was making it difficult to move. He adjusted and readjusted until he finally got comfortable enough to close his eyes and fall asleep. I watched him for the longest time, breathing in and out, with a small smile on his face. Everything was out in the open now, and I could breathe, too.

A nurse came in, and seemed surprised to see us lying together.

“Look at you,” she whispered, her dark eyes somehow seeing clearly even in the dim light. “That boy has all the women on this floor swooning. He’s been your guardian angel. Hasn’t left your side.”

“I’ve heard. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m glad.” I leaned over, touching my temple to his forehead.

“Luck is most certainly on your side. I saw your vehicle down at the yard. It looks like a wadded-up piece of paper. It’s a miracle either of you lived.”

I frowned. “I’m going to miss that Jeep.”

She nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“I hurt. Everywhere.”

She shook a plastic cup, letting the pills inside rattle. “Think you can swallow a couple of pills?”

I nodded and tossed the pills to the back of my throat. The nurse handed me a cup of water, and I swallowed them, but not without effort.

“Are you hungry?” she asked while taking my vitals.

I shook my head.

“Okay,” she said, pulling the stethoscope from her ears. “Just hit that red button with the cross if you need anything.”

She walked out of the room, and I turned to the man sleeping next to me. “There’s nothing else that I need,” I whispered.

Trenton’s cast was between us, and I ran my finger over the different names, thinking about all of the people who loved us that had come to my room. I paused when I came across T.J.’s signature, and silently said a final good-bye to the simple but sophisticated scribble.

Thomas James Maddox





Fancy something to put you on the edge of your seat?





Read on for an extract of



RED HILL





PROLOGUE





Scarlet


The warning was short—said almost in passing. “The cadavers were herded and destroyed.” The radio hosts then made a few jokes, and that was the end of it. It took me a moment to process what the newswoman had said through the speakers of my Suburban: Finally. A scientist in Zurich had finally succeeded in creating something that—until then—had only been fictional. For years, against every code of ethics known to science, Elias Klein had tried and failed to reanimate a corpse. Once a leader amid the most intelligent in the world, he was now a laughing stock. But on that day, he would have been a criminal, if he weren’t already dead.

At the time, I was watching my girls arguing in the backseat through the rearview mirror, and the two words that should have changed everything barely registered. Two words, had I not been reminding Halle to give her field trip permission slip to her teacher, would have made me drive away from the curb with my foot grinding the gas pedal to the floorboard.