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I pull him against me. "Fuck, Ez. Don’t be sorry. Why are you sorry?"
I hug him tight, and his arms latch onto me. I can feel him trying to regulate his breathing. I have the thought I wonder if this changes anything, and right on cue, he hugs me tighter.
"Always taking care of me," he says in a hoarse, thick voice.
"I got you, always."
"I hurt you."
"You were hurt, too."
"I left you.” His voice breaks. “At the hospital."
"You came back."
"I left your room at night," he whispers. "Nearly killed me. But I thought I had to." His voice steadies out, but he’s trembling.
"I know, angel."
"I was scared of her. I’m scared of my mom." Ezra makes this little groan sound. "Carl," he moans.
"He’s okay, angel. Promise. I just saw him."
Heavy breathing. Shaking. I'm about to tell him it's okay he's upset; remembering things all at once, in a motel room alone, would be a shock to anybody. But he speaks first. "I loved the roof…with you.” His forehead feels hot on my throat.
"I loved that too."
"You played cello for me."
I nod, rubbing his back.
"You were so cute in band." His voice breaks, and he swallows, trying to keep from crying in earnest. "I loved everything about you."
"I loved you too."
"I hurt you…over and over.”
"You gave me my first blow job. My first kiss. Do you really remember? Remember the cemetery kiss?"
He's nodding. "I was chicken shit and tried to run."
"You were beautiful. I'll never forget that day."
"You made fun of my face," he laughs. Another shudder follows his soft laugh. Then he's just shaking. “Sorry. I can’t stop." His voice sounds gasped. "Is something wrong with me?”
I tip my head down so I can press my cheek against his. I rub my temple over his mouth, trying to feel how fast he's breathing. “Well...I don't think so. But your lips are cold.”
"The Icee." It's a whimper. "I remembered from an Icee."
I hug him hard, feeling shocked. I want to ask exactly how it happened. What it felt like. How he feels now. I want to know it all. But he's still clinging to me, his big body quivering like a plucked string. I know he's overwhelmed and maybe even scared. What could that possibly feel like, that influx of context…history…feelings?
I rub his back. “You wanna get into the shower with me?”
“No," he whispers.
His body feels warm and rigid. I wrap mine around him. "I love you. I've got you. You're okay."
Ezra curls against me. I can't help kissing his cheeks...and then his lips find mine. We kiss, and it tastes salty. He's not moving like normal; he seems dazed, his body still racked with shivers.
“If you're ever stranded in an avalanche, you’ll do good, baby. Keep the whole crew warm.”
He laughs.
“Physics," he whispers a moment later.
“Nearly killed me," I say fondly.
“The books…at the table. Hiding.”
"You mean you were hiding from me? Those mornings that Mom and Carl were gone?"
He nods.
“I knew that." I kiss his forehead. "I knew you were spooked. You remember how you overheated that day? I was always curious about that.”
“Drills. And those meds.” He inhales. “Should have sat out.”
Geez, he really can't stop shaking. I cup my hands around his mouth and kiss his top lip, soft and gentle.
"Tattoo...in Chattanooga," he whispers against my cheek. “As I was driving to Mom’s. Not enough money for the angel too."
That makes my heart ache. "I like what you picked, though. The infinity."
He presses his cheek against mine, holds me tighter. "I didn’t think the ECT would matter. Didn’t last time."
"I know."
"God," he laughs softly. “This summer."
"This past summer? What about it? Was it was pretty terrible?”
He nods.
"I’m so sorry."
"It’s okay." His voice sounds broken. He breathes more deeply, and then he laughs. "I remembered. It was like a tidal wave, dude. Slammed my brain."
I kiss his hair.
"I want more Icee," he says in a thin voice. "Mills. Do you still love me?"
"Always."
"Are you sure?" He sounds exhausted. "I was such an asshole."
"I’m so sure. I knew that all along, remember? Anyway, you weren’t an asshole. You were an antihero. Now you turned."
“This is so weird. I’m sleepy."
I rub his back…massage his nape.
"Are you sure...there's nothing wrong with me?"
"I think you had a panic attack, angel. Let’s sleep."
"Can you stay here?" he whispers.
"Absolutely, angel. For however long. Forever long."
Three
Ezra
I wake up to Miller wrapped around me from behind. His heavy arm over my shoulder and chest. One of his legs pushed in between mine. I can feel his cheek against my back, his breath against my skin, and that’s when I remember what happened.
I feel an echo of the shock from earlier. Like a waterfall of thoughts and feelings that, for a crushing millisecond, is too much. I feel pummeled by it—my lungs locking up, my throat constricting—but then something shifts in my mind and I’ve got it. Got a handle on it.
