Page 104 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Steven stood up, put his chair away, and then pulled Myles to his feet, turning him towards the bathroom. “Clean up. Take a shower. I’ll check on them, and then I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Is that it? Once out of the house, you’re fine?”

“Oh. No. I’m also calling Steph as soon as I’m on the other side of that door to tell her to go there and stay until I get back. But also, yes. Because you’re here, and there’re people who need me to do stuff. So let me worry about me.”

“And about me?”

“For tonight.” He gave Myles a gentle shove. “Shower. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steven stepped around him and reached for a kiss, backing off the deeper, commanding one he wanted in favour of a lingering one that didn’t hurt Myles’s mouth too much. “Good man,” he whispered.

When Myles closed his eyes and leaned on him a moment, he waited, arms around his waist, braced, but the moment passed quickly, and Myles straightened.

“Thank you.”

“It’s quite literally my pleasure.”

On the other side of the closed guest room door, he made good on his promise to call his sister, who assured him she was already at the house, and everything was fine.

“How did you know?”

“How do you think? You’re my twin.”

“Really?”

“And Jake called.”

A lump formed unexpectedly in Steven’s throat, and he had a hard time clearing it.

“You okay?” Steph’s concern felt light and just the right amount of reassuring over the phone.

“Yeah. You’d have been so proud of him tonight, sis.”

“I’m proud of him all the time.”

“Yeah, I know. But he just⁠—”

“Stepped up?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucy’s good for him that way. Now go do your thing. Take care of your man.”

“He’s not⁠—”

She coughed “bullshit” over the phone, chirruped a quick “See you. Bob’s at the door for a Hobbit marathon, so don’t worry about staying out,” and hung up before he could even say goodbye.

When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised to see Shelly on a tall counter stool next to Ozzy, both of them colouring, and Jet with Kreed at the stove.

Jet spoke first when he entered. “Is he okay?” The concern in his tone warred with the scowl on his face.

“He’s showering.” Steven was careful not to downplay Myles’s distress, but also, to not highlight it, which Myles wouldn’t thank him for. “What are you making?” He peered into the pot Jet had been stirring.

“It’s a sauce. White. You have to keep stirring it or it will stick.”

“Smells good.”