Page 127 of Sing For Me

He laughs. “How about you go inside and cuddle up to that guy you’re so smitten with and let me get back to my music.”

The little bubble of happiness his words had set free in my heart wilts a little bit as I remember what had happened with Will before bed. But I force that out of my head, wanting to focus on everything Luke just said to me.

“Thank you,” I tell him, voice husky with emotion.

“Anytime, girl.”

After we hang up, I sit and watch the waves for a while more, my mind spinning with our conversation, with the idea that I might be really improving. Eventually, the night air starts to feel too chilly and I gather up my blanket and head inside.

I very nearly scream when I step through the sliding door because there’s a person sitting in the living room, in the dark. “Will,” I gasp, dropping the blanket to place a hand over my racing heart. “What are you doing?”

There’s a rattle of ice cubes and I realize that he’s holding a drink. I reach for the nearest lamp and he blinks at me in the sudden light, a glass of what looks like whiskey in his hand, a flat expression on his face.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks, his voice strange.

“Luke. What are you doing sitting out here in the dark.”

“I woke up and you were gone. I came out to check on you, but I guess you had it covered.”

He sounds so strange. Almost…accusatory. “Are you pissed about something?”

He doesn’t answer, just takes another long pull of his drink. “What did Luke have to say so late at night?”

I cross my arms over my chest, annoyance rising inside me. He’s acting like a jealous asshole and I don’t like it.

“I had a nightmare,” I snap. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“So you called Luke at four a.m.”

“He’s in New York,” I snap. “Where it’s already morning. And I knew he’d be awake because he’s writing music for his new show, and he never sleeps when he’s writing.”

Will doesn’t say anything, just watches me with that same flat expression. Eventually, his hand flexes against the side table and I see what it’s resting on—my date book. “Were you going to tell me about this?”

I don’t even need to ask what he’s talking about. The calendar is open to tomorrow’s date, information about my appointment with the new doctor circled at the top. “I was going to tell you about it after I went.”

“Did you talk to Marissa?”

“Yes.” She hadn’t been any happier about the idea than Will or my sister had been. But Dennis called me a few more times, really pressing it, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to at least meet the doctor.

“Did you tell Luke about it just now?”

I glare at him. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I just think it’s interesting.” His tone is most definitely not merelyinterested. “You don’t tell me about this appointment. You have a nightmare in the middle of the night, in bed with me, and instead of talking to me about it, you call another man.”

“I called myfriend.”

“Because you can’t talk to me.”

I throw my arms up in the air. “Seriously, Will?”

“You dated Luke, right?” The low, sharp edge to his voice makes me want to scream. “Pretty sure he mentioned that at your party.”

I gape at him. “I dated Luke for about three seconds before we both realized we were better off as friends. We never even kissed! And it was years ago. He’s married.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, eyes cold, and I feel my annoyance sharpen.

“You want to know why I called Luke?” I spit out. “I called him because after the fire, I used to have nightmares every single night. Multiple times a night. I stopped sleeping all together, Will. I had to be hospitalized again, because I was so terrified to sleep.” His jaw clenches. “My friends are the ones who took care of me. They made sure I was never alone at night. They all took turns sleeping here.” I point at the couch he’s sitting on. “Or having me at their house. And that’s the only way I ever got any rest at all. For months.”