The Definition of Fate

Chapter 47

Love is many things and

sometimes we are never

really sure if it even

exists, but all I know

is that if you were to show me her soul

in a photograph,

I wouldn't even ask
to see the others.

- Christopher Poindexter

Where am I? I yawn and wipe at my eyes to clear away the sleepiness. When I realize my location, I have a brief moment of panic. I'm in Josh's freaking bed. Of course, Josh isn't in it with me, but still. His room is sparse and dark, his sheets navy blue flannel and the bed fashioned out of dark cherry. The room has few other furnishings which doesn't surprise me--he belongs in the woods, not inside.

I sit up in bed and bite back a cry of pain. My head still feels like someone hit it with a baseball bat, and I remember Lyndon Hunter slamming me into the stone porch of the camp lodge. I groan and roll onto my side--my ribs are sore from where he kicked me. And worst yet, I still have to go into work. With only a few days left of my probation period, I can't afford to call off sick.

A knock sounds at the door and I flinch. "Rach? Can I come in?"

Crap. "Uh, sure."

The door swings open and Josh smiles at me from the doorway, only wearing a pair of gym shorts and a thin t-shirt. His eyes are still half-closed with sleepiness and his hair ruffled.

"Morning, Rach," he says, walking in and sitting on the side of the bed. He brushes his fingers across my forehead and I smile at him. "How do you feel?"

I moan and shift in bed, wishing I could sit up. "I feel like a 200 pound man body slammed me. Oh wait. That actually happened."

Josh laughs. "We should probably change your bandages before you leave for work."

I touch the gauze taped to the right side of my face where I collided with the ground. "How bad do I look?"
Josh cradles the uninjured half of my face. "You look beautiful, Rach."

I snort. "I'm pretty sure that's a lie, but thanks for letting me stay here last night. I...I should have just gone home, but thank you."

"Any time. Seriously, Rach. I'm just glad you trust me enough to ask."

"Did Alicia leave on time?"

"Yeah, I just got back from dropping her off at the airport. Ellie went to school and Mom is at the police station trying to sort everything out, so it's just us."

"What time is it?'

"It's 6:30. How much time do you need to get ready? A half hour?"

I laugh. "Are you kidding? I can get ready in five minutes flat, assuming I can actually stand up without falling over."

"Are you sure you don't--"

"I don't need a doctor, Josh. I didn't even lose consciousness. I just need breakfast and Advil."

"That I can do," he says, but he remains next to me, his face lingering a few inches above mine. "We have some time...can I lay here with you?"

I beam up at him and slide over in the bed, tugging his oversized flannel shirt closer around me. With the cuts on my face, I didn't want to pull a shirt over my head so I borrowed a pair of Ellie's shorts and one of Josh's flannel shirts that hangs halfway down my thighs. He slides into the bed next to me, pulling the heavy black comforter over the both of us. He stretches his arm around me and I rest my head on his chest. Our bodies conform to each other, legs tangling and breath synchronizing.