Page 83 of Eyes on Me


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“You okay?” I ask, checking in with her again.

She nods. I don’t know why I keep asking that, waiting for her to open up and spill whatever’s on her mind. As if I would even be equipped to handle that if she does. I’m really not one to talk. I literally never open up the way she wants me to.

After our quick shower, I find her something comfortable to wear before I head to the kitchen to make her some food. Moments later, she walks out of the bedroom in my gray sweatpants and a T-shirt that fits tight over her breasts. She gives me a warm smile, and I pause, staring at her.

“I look like a boy,” she complains.

“The hottest boy I’ve ever seen,” I reply as I pull the carton of eggs out of the fridge.

She giggles as she climbs onto one of the stools around the island. Pulling her knees up to her chest, curled up in my pajamas, she looks so young. Glancing back at her as I crack eggs into a bowl, I try to pinpoint the moment when Mia stopped feeling too young for me. And I realize that our age difference was never my problem. It was how I thought it would be perceived. How people would look at me, or more importantly, at her. But from the minute Mia could hold a conversation with me, I saw her as my equal. Like we were always kindred spirits, two halves of one whole.

“Did you run to the hospital?” she asks while I’m whisking the eggs.

“Yes.”

“How far?”

I shrug. “A couple miles. I was already near the bay on my jog.”

“You could have taken a cab or gone home to change first. Why did you have to get there so fast?”

My movement stops as I stare at her. “Because you needed me. Because I wanted…to be there with you.”

Solemnly, she nods as if she’s pleased with that answer. “Garrett…what are we?”

Taking a deep breath, I ready myself for the answer. The one I already know.

“Because I know that when I found out about my dad, there’s only one person I wanted to call. One person I needed at that moment. So, I think you’re my person, but I don't want you to be mine if I’m not yours.”

“Mia…” I mutter, questions and doubt swimming around in my head.

“Last night you said I was yours. I just want to know…if any of that was real.”

“It was real,” I mumble, like an idiot who doesn’t have the vocabulary to properly string together a full sentence to express just how I feel.

She’s staring at me with a nervous expression, and I drop the bowl in my hand and press my palms against the cool granite of the counter. I want to go to her, but it’s not the time for touching. It’s time for talking. And I suck at it enough as it is, so it’s best to keep some distance to keep from getting distracted.

“Mia, I haven’t been in a relationship in a really long time, and I’m a mess. You’d be signing yourself up for—"

“I’m a mess, too, Garrett. But if you’re going to call me yours, I need to know that I am.”

In the back of my mind, I distantly recognize that this is the time to come clean. I need to fess up to being Drake and the camgirl thing, so we can put it behind us. But I’m still a fucking coward.

It’s ironic to me that I hid behind the Drake profile because it was my barrier so I could have Mia, without letting her see the real me. Now it’s a wall, keeping me from everything I want. Do I want Mia if it means having this lie between us forever or do I risk losing her and tell her the truth?

Moving to her side of the island, I step up to her, eager to touch her face as I pull her in for a kiss.

I can’t risk it.

“I am yours, and I’ll give this a shot if you will.”

“I promise,” she whispers in return, a gentle smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she leans in for another kiss. I notice the way her hands hold me a little tighter and her lips hold mine a little longer, as if she’s showing just how much she wants this, and the guilt assaults me again.

“We should probably wait until my dad gets out of the hospital before we tell him,” she mumbles against my lips.

I wince. “No, I think the hospital might be a convenient location for my sake.”

She laughs. “He’ll get over it.”

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