Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Go inside,” I tell everyone, kneeling beside him. “Andy, can you bring out a bottle of water?”
As everyone goes inside, I reach for Miles, but he jerks back.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” It’s just me? Why the fuck did I say that? He can tell who I am. Plus, I’m not sure if it being me will make him feel any better. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,” I add, hoping that helps.
This time, when I reach out again, Miles doesn’t stop me. He looks up at me with wide eyes, his pupils nearly taking over his light-blue irises, as I rub circles on his back. “Just breathe slowly, like this.”
I pull a breath into my lungs and let it out my nose, nice and steady. I hear a sound behind me—I assume it’s Andy leaving the water—but I don’t give him my attention, focusing on Miles, showing him how to breathe and rubbing his back, hoping I’m doing the right thing. I’ve studied this in school, and I remember what it feels like from the inside, but I’ve never been in a situation where I had to help someone else.
“That’s it,” I tell him as he tries to take deeper breaths. “Do me a favor, I want you to focus on what’s around us…feel the dirt beneath your fingers.” I use my free hand to grab a handful, letting it slide through my fingers, and hope Miles does the same.
He surprises me by listening.
“There you go, and what about the leaves on the trees over there. See how some of them are already turning orange? Watch how they move with the wind.”
Miles looks up, his whole fucking body shaking, and all I want is to pull him close, hold him to me, soothe him in this way I never expected to feel about Miles Tanner.
I want to help him. I want him to feel like everything will be okay.
I struggle to remember what I’ve learned, how to help, what I used to need myself, and move on to the next sense, giving him something else to focus on, because if he can lose himself in our surroundings, maybe it’ll help calm down what’s going on inside him.
“What do you smell?” I pull in another deep breath of my own, the scent of the earthy, floral bushes in front of us. He breathes in again, watching me, staring at me in that intense way he does. “Do you smell the floral undertones?” I ask, and try not to frown when he shakes his head. “No?”
“Sweat,” he says, still slightly breathless. “Musk…and something…citrusy and spicy.” I’m surprised when he leans closer, presses his face into my throat, his nose at the curve of my neck. “Smelled it when we hooked up too.”
He breathes in again, and I beg my dick not to think it’s time to play. There’s nothing sexual about this moment. Miles isn’t trying to seduce me. He’s using my scent, me, as something familiar, something grounding, holding him to this moment and pulling him out of whatever space he’d just been in his head. And that…fuck, as much as I don’t want him to feel this way and don’t want him to need me, there’s something so magical about that, something that hits me deep, on this level nothing else ever has before. This isn’t about fun or sex; it’s real and honest, heartbreaking yet beautiful.
I wrap an arm around him, pulling him close, not caring that we’re on the ground, in the bushes, back against the porch, and I just hold him, let Miles take what he needs from me, try to keep him out of his head and in this moment, with me. We don’t talk, not for a while, nothing outside of me telling him he’s doing well, to keep breathing, and making sure he knows everything will be okay. Eventually, he calms down, but he doesn’t move away from me. When I feel him stiffen, I know he’s back to himself.
“Fuck. I can’t believe I did that.” Miles pulls away, and though I don’t want to, I let him. The last thing I want is to do anything to upset him again.
“It’s okay.” I grab the water bottle from the stairs, handing it to Miles. He takes it, opening it and chugging half of it down.
“Shit. I’m sorry you’re sitting here in the dirt with me.”
“I don’t mind,” I assure him. “Want to look for worms?” I tease. “I used to do that when I was a kid.”
“What? No,” he rushes out, his brow creased, but I see him almost smiling. I like making Miles smile. It’s not easy, so I’m taking it as a personal challenge to get him to do it as much as possible.
“You sure? It’s fun.”
“I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”