Page 62 of Sing For Me

I think about what Eva had told me, about being trapped while the fire raged, and have to fight back a shudder. It’s probably not a good sign how very terrified I am by the thought of something happening to her.

“Is she getting help?” Rose asks.

“For the physical injuries, yeah. The other stuff, I’m not sure.”

Rose studies my face, blue eyes sharp. She knows me too well. “You really like this girl, huh?”

I sprawl back onto the blanket. There’s no point in trying to hide it from her. “I really do, Rosie.”

She lays her head next to mine. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“She wants to be friends,” I blurt out, and Rose stills.

“Friends?”

I give a jerky nod. The entire time she was talking last night, telling me all the reasons she didn’t think she could be in a relationship, there had been a part of me trying to convince myself it was a good thing. Because I wasn’t supposed to want to date anyone either. All of the second guessing and back and forth I’d been doing should have been proof enough. She was giving me an out, and I would be stupid not to take it.

So why did the words feel so bitter on my tongue when I told her we could just be friends?

“Are you okay with that? With being friends?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. “It’s probably for the best.” Rose doesn’t respond. “I mean, I don’t have the best track record.”

“Will.” She sounds exasperated. “That wasnotyour fault.”

“I should have seen what was happening. I should have figured out a way to help her.”

“You wereeighteen.”

“I was all she had.”

“Jesus,” Rose mutters, closing her eyes. “You have got to let go of that guilt, Will. It’s going to bury you.”

But how are you supposed to let go of guilt when you know it’s well-deserved?

“Okay,” she finally says, blowing out a deep breath. I know there’s more she wants to say on the topic of my guilt, but apparently, she’s decided to spare me the psychology spiel. “So, you’re going to try to be friends.”

“Looks that way.” I play with a strand of grass, smooth and cool against my fingers. “We said we’d just see how it goes.”

“I guess it’s not abadidea,” she muses. “Don’t put too much pressure on it.”

“Right.”

Rose is quiet for a beat. “SWhen do I get to hang out with her again?”

I bark out a laugh. “What happened to avoiding pressure?”

“Iwon’t put pressure on you,” she argues. “I’m not saying you should like, bring her with you to this kind of madness.” She waves a hand at our cousins running around the yard. “But if you’re going to be friends you guys should definitely hang out at the apartment so I can get to know her.”

“Maybe,” I hedge. The truth is, I want very much to bring Eva to our apartment. I want her there, in my refuge, the place where I’m most comfortable. Hell, I want her with me all the time. Maybe that’s why I stayed up half the night sketching her face, trying to get the slope of her long, elegant neck just right.

But I’m trying to keep a reign on those feelings. I’ve already fallen much too far, much too fast.

Just friends.I have a feeling I’m going to need to remind myself of those words a hell of a lot.

“On the other hand,” Rose muses, face scrunched up in thought. “Bringing her here would probably tell you a lot about her mental fortitude.”

I groan. “I’m not bringing her to a family thing. Not for a very, very long time. Probably not ever.”