Page 63 of Embrace

“Kian?” That voice is like an arrow through the haze in my mind.

Scarlett’s in front of me, wearing last night’s jeans and sweater.

My stomach lurches. The errands, the hours I lost track of. I left her there. In my bed. My chest tightens, and my hands curl into fists on my knees. Everything I touch—

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I swallow, lifting a smile onto my face. “Just felt like this swing’s been neglected lately.”

Scarlett steps closer, her fingers tracing the rattling chains. I hold it still for her to sit.

The cotton of her pink sweater presses against my biceps. She stares at the floor, pulling my gaze to where her legs swing.

She lets me guide the swing back and forth. Her toes barely brush the weathered porch floor.

“You were leaving,” I say, unable to hide my thoughts.

Just make her laugh. Keep it light, Kian.

“I was going to text you but my phone’s dead and I couldn’t find a charger.” She pauses. “I waited. But I promised Sierra I’d be home for dinner.”

“I didn’t mean for it to take so long. How are you feeling?”

I see her cheeks blush, even in the waning light of the afternoonsun. “Yeah, it’s— Yeah. But I’m glad I caught you before. Thanks for last night.”

“Don’t thank me. I’ll be coming to collect what I’m owed.”

She laughs. “Why, planning to cry in my arms next time? I have been told I’ve got the perfect place for heads to rest.”

My gaze doesn’t stutter. I watch her wait, like she wants me to look down at her chest, like shehopesI will. But I feel the need to sort through that look in her eyes instead, wondering what she’s trying to make me do in her head. As if she’s trying to categorize me in some box.

Before I can stop myself, I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, my fingers pressing against her earrings, the tiny heart-shaped ones. “No, but I think I’ll need a hug sometime.”

Like now.

That voice shoots through my chest, dragging me toward her, but I don’t move. I’m fine. I give hugs to people; I don’t ask for them in return.

“Do you need a ride?” I ask quickly, uncomfortable in the stretch of silence.

“Someone already brought my car here.” She bumps my shoulder and gives me a knowing look.

I forgot I had Cole go to the library parking lot and drive her car to the house last night.

The breeze grows stronger, and she pulls her sweater tighter around her. I almost offer her the shirt off my back, my limbs, anything, but think better of it.Too much.

We look ahead, onto the empty street, Halloween decorations covering our lawn and some of the neighbors’.

“By the way, sorry if all that stuff last night drained you. I know it’s a lot, and it’s not fair for me to just trauma dump,” she says.

I halt the swing. “Why would you think that?”

Scarlett shrugs. “You look tired. I know that kind of exhaustion.”

“Scar.” I take a breath. “This has nothing to do with you. Last night was—I wanted to do that, okay?”

“Then will you tell me why you’ve got that fake-ass smile on your face?”

I chuckle. “What?”