Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(82)

Voices travel into the room from the hallway, and I startle into motion, wiping the tear marks from my face. As Vee and Mel enter, followed by Becca and a nurse, all carrying plastic bags and sodas, I hike my eyebrows.

“What have you done?” I say, not addressing any one of them in particular. All their faces convey a touch of guilt and mischief. Although, I have some clue as to who was the culprit. I pin Mel with a look, but she immediately points to Becca.

Becca clears her throat and lifts her chin. “Well, it was hardly an easy task to get decent refreshments for a Super Bowl party at the hospital cafeteria.” She places her bag on the table, and I gape openly at her. “So, we went to the grocery store.”

I am shock. Shock is me. Becca went grocery shopping. My father’s lips twist into a smirk, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. The fact that this doesn’t disturb me is just the first step on a long route to our own personal recovery.

Difficult. But not impossible.

“It’s not the Super Bowl, dear,” my father says, rising and offering his chair to Vee. “This is college football.”

Becca stares blankly at him. “And? It’s on the flatscreen.” She says this as if it proves her point. “Regardless, I was disappointed they didn’t have quiche, but I did find some canned caviar.”

Mel makes a face. “I wouldn’t chance that, if I were you.”

Vee laughs, but I think Becca’s going to have to discover this mishap all on her own. I know my stomach definitely can’t take that kind of abuse. “Thanks, Becca,” I say, and she gives me a hesitant smile.

The nurse waves at the screen. “Turn it up,” she instructs. “My shift is over and I’m not missing my team take Engleton. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

Vee nudges my arm. “Watch out for that one”—she nods to the nurse—“she might have a meltdown when she finds out we’re dating two of the players.”

I snort. “I can’t believe she’s actually, like, partying here. In my hospital room. With my stepmother and canned caviar.” I shake my head. “What’s next? The doctors and a beer keg?”

“It’s football.” Vee says this as if it clarifies everything.

“Of course,” I say, loving the light banter. Just moments before, I was ready to crawl under a rock. Now, even with the championship riding on Ryder, and people filling my room at the worst possible time in my life, I’m okay. I’m not one hundred percent, and I sure don’t feel like going to any after game parties—but I’m grateful to my friends and family for making me feel normal.

And oddly enough, I never thought that I’d aspire for normality. But it sounds pretty damn good.

“Look at your man,” Mel says. “Damn, girl. I need to call Boone over here immediately before I punch you with envy.”

“Oh,” Vee says. “Well, that one right there.” She points to a blip on the screen that she somehow knows is Gavin. His number isn’t even showing. “That one’s mine.”

Mel sputters. “Yeah, not a fan of bulk. He’s all yours.”

Vee tosses a popcorn kernel at Mel’s head.

This, right here, is perfection. It’s messy and flawed and complicated—but life is supposed to be. And on the screen, looking like he was born to play this game, is my future. The fact that I know what he looks like wearing glasses, and how good he feels on top of me, and that he’s the most intelligent and charming jock—that’s just a huge perk.

At three seconds to go, Ryder sends the ball spiraling through the air. It’s caught and run home for the winning touchdown. Braxton University wins the championship, and this one, defining moment will forever change Ryder’s life.

Our life.

He found me. He chose me. When I was fading, his love shone bright enough to chase away my darkness. He was willing to sacrifice his future—all because he believed in us.

Sometimes love means fading out so another shines brighter, but our love means never having to dim; we burn for each other.





Epilogue





Years Ahead





Arian


Torches blaze. Halos of illuminated warmth cast a celestial glow against the twilit backdrop, flames licking high into the night. The last of the string lights have been strung, and a ring of seashells and family heirlooms has been laid out, setting the stage. The crash of waves our soundtrack, the sand beneath our feet our runway.

My nerves flutter to life in my belly, and I grip my bouquet with the force necessary to strangle.

“You’re going to squeeze that poor calla lily’s head right off.”

“Oh.” I immediately loosen my grip and the bouquet slips from my hands. “Crap.”

Mel laughs and attempts to bend to pick it up, but she gets stuck halfway. She grabs her back with one hand, her thigh with the other, bracketing in her enormous belly. “Okay, a little help here.”

Laughing, Sam rights Mel, and Becca sighs and grabs the bouquet. “It wasn’t bad enough you chose not to have a church wedding, you had to insist on a maid of honor who’s about to go into labor?” Becca scolds.

“Hey,” Mel says, resting her forearms over the top of her rounded stomach. “I threw one hell of a shower.” She winks at me. “And this kid will stay put. I still have a few more months to go.”