Page 29 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Instead, Myles made short work of sorting packaging into the blue box and garbage, and filled the sink with hot, soapy water to clean up the blood. He had the door frame washed, the big pieces of glass picked up, and was sweeping up the slivers when the back door opened for Steven, Lucky and Kreed to troop into the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to clean all that,” Steven protested.

“I don’t mind. Good to feel useful.” Myles dumped the last dustpan—filled with glass slivers and no small amount of stale dust bunnies he’d discovered behind the fallen picture, into the pizza box, then carefully closed the lid. “Got tape? Best seal this up safe.”

“Sure. Yeah.” Steven opened a kitchen drawer and rifled around inside.

“You good here, Steven?” Kreed asked.

“Yeah.” Steven stopped looking to turn to the couple. “God, I’m so sorry, you guys. You should get back. I can handle this.”

Kreed patted his shoulder, and Lucky hugged him, making Myles do a double take. The Lucky he had known was more of an arm’s length kind of guy. Everything changed, it seemed.

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate…” His voice trailed off as he walked the two men to the front door of the shop and let them out.

He was gone long enough, thanking them, Myles supposed, that he started looking through the kitchen junk drawer for the tape himself. He was so absorbed in the task, he didn’t hear Steven’s return.

“What are you doing?”

The question startled him. He dropped the handful of batteries he held, wincing when they thudded to the floor and began rolling in all directions.

“I, um.” He waved at the half-empty drawer and pile of random items on the counter. “Was looking for the tape. The drawer was, um.” He scrubbed a hand down the side of his jeans. “Unorganized.”

What the fuck was he doing? He hadn’t been thinking, he just… the mess… “Shit. I’m so sorry.” He raised a hand, poised to sweep everything back into the drawer, but still, he hesitated.

“You don’t…” Steven laid a light touch on his forearm. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I should never have… I wasn’t thinking.”

“But it was a mess.”

“It kind of was.”

Gentle, Steven pulled him away from the open drawer. “I can tell tossing it all back in there would hurt your brain.” He said it with a lilt and a half grin, but his gaze held something else. Empathy?

“A little bit.”

“So you don’t have to.” Reaching around, Steven retrieved a roll of packing tape and held it out. “Why don’t you tape up the box. Finish off what you started, and leave this for me.”

Myles huffed and unclenched his fingers from their unconscious balled-up fists. He took the tape and returned to his previous task. Steven had deflected so expertly. Myles almost didn’t feel like a complete idiot for letting his neuroses take over.

“Obviously,” he said, once he’d gotten the first strip of tape around the box and his embarrassment under control, “Jake has had some great support.”

“What do you mean?”

Myles considered as he wound a second strip, crosswise to the first, around the box. “You handled that—me—like a pro.”

“I wasn’t handling you.”

That got Myles to smile. “Sure you were.” He turned to hand him the roll of tape. “But it’s okay.” He held up a hand when it looked like Steven might protest. “I appreciate you accommodating my… neuroses. I overstepped.”

“Not on purpose.”

“No. But still.” He tipped his head to the pile of junk he’d taken out of the drawer in his attempt to organize it better. “Wasn’t my place. I apologize.”

“Accepted. Though for what it’s worth, I wasn’t offended.”

“Okay if you were. Sometimes it gets the better of me.” He plucked a marker from his pile to scrawl caution warnings all over the box, then capped it and held it for Steven to take. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”