Page 90 of A Million To Fall

A smile tugs at my mouth.

Five minutes later, her breathing has evened out, and one hand is tucked between her cheek and my shoulder, the blanket pulled all the way to her chin.

She looks… safe.

I let my eyes sweep the enormous house, at the locked doors and glowing lamps and expensive furniture.

Then down at the girl sleeping against my shoulder. And it hits me again, harder than before. She came looking for me tonight. Because for some reason, she thought I could do for her what no one else would or could: make her feel safe.

The realization settles heavily in my chest.

And for the first time in a really long time, I feel something dangerously close to safe too.

twenty-eight

Skye

Iwake with a start, my heart already racing, even though, for one disorienting second, I have no idea why.

The room is dark, the TV off. My blanket is half on the floor.

And I’m alone—the solid warmth I had fallen asleep against gone.

I jerk upright, my eyes snapping to the spot next to me on the couch. It’s cold. Empty.

Boston must have left after I fell asleep. Gone back home—to Jake’s. What did I expect? That he’d spend the whole night sitting on a couch while I drool on his shoulder?

Still, disappointment settles heavy in my chest. Because sometime between him checking every room in the house, listening to me ramble about my fear of being alone, and letting me use him as a human pillow, my brain apparently decided his presence was essential.

My chest tightens with how different the house feels without him here. Actually, it feels exactly how it did when he wasn’t here. It was Boston who made it feel different… safe. And now?

A sound comes from deep in the house. My body locks up, pulse skyrocketing.

It’s nothing, Skye. Just a pipe, or—

Another sound, a floorboard maybe. Footsteps?

I scramble to my feet, my blanket slipping off me, tangling around my feet. I almost trip over the coffee table, stubbing my toe hard. A strangled whimper escapes me.

“Stormy?” The warmth in his voice wraps around me. Half a second later, Boston appears from the hallway and the relief crashes through me so hard my knees wobble.

He steps closer, brows knitted. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “You okay?”

I nod, releasing a shaky breath.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he breathes, moving a hand to my arm, stroking softly. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

I see the concern in his eyes. “Sorry, Skye. I didn’t mean to disappear,” he says and rubs the back of his head. “My neck was starting to cramp.”

A smile tugs at my mouth despite myself. “From being used as a pillow?”

He gives me a half-smile. “Maybe.”

I laugh softly. It feels strange after the sudden panic, but also welcome.

“And I wanted to brush my teeth,” Boston says, nodding toward the hallway he just emerged from.

“You brushed you teeth?”