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The reaction I got was silence. They knew I didn’t like pink, and they knew why.
“For what it’s worth, you look beautiful,” Creed said sullenly.
I couldn’t bring myself to say thank you. I couldn’t even move my hands to cook. I was so uncomfortable in my body that I wanted to tap out so badly. I wanted to run so badly. If there had been any alcohol here, I was pretty sure I’d be already chugging it. All I could do in that moment was stand there, staring down at the stove, battling with myself.
Move, Shiloh.
Just keep moving.
It’s terrible right now.
It’ll pass.
It’ll pass.
“Babe?” Colt said at the same time Knox said, “Shiloh?”
Creed grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around to face him. His eyes bounced all over my face. He must have seen something that unsettled him, because he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me.
I tried to lift my hands from my sides to hug him back. They felt so heavy that I only got as far as his waist. “Can someone help me cook?” I asked as I pushed on his hips a little.
“I’ll help,” Knox said as he came into the kitchen.
I can do this.
I can keep moving.
Creed unwrapped his arms from around me, but didn’t move or look away from me.
Knox came up next to us. “I got this, Creed,” he assured his little brother and a look passed between them.
Creed reluctantly backed away, letting go of me completely.
Knox took his place in front of me. The intensity of his stare and the way he towered over me made me feel like he was blocking out the rest of the world. Knox was the strongest out of the five of us. I found myself leaning toward him and resting my forehead against his chest, hoping to absorb a little bit of his strength.
He ran his hand down the back of my head to cup the back of my neck. “Are you even hungry?”
I shook my head against him.
“Okay.” He kissed the top of my head before moving away.
I watched him grab the food I’d taken out and put it all back in the fridge. Then he took my hand. I let him pull me and lead me back to my room.
As soon as we got inside, I asked, “What about dinner?”
He let go of my hand. “They’re big boys. They can feed themselves,” he said as he shut the door and leaned against it with his arms folded over his chest.
I moved farther into the room. “If you brought me in here to ask me what’s wrong or to talk—”
“I don’t need to ask,” he cut me off.
I went to go sit on the edge of the bed. “Then why did you bring me in here?”
“You’re struggling.”
I scoffed as I shook my head. “I’m doing everything I can not to make past mistakes. I know I slipped and buried things, but that was so I could get us all here—somewhere safe.”
“I didn’t bring you in here to lecture you,” he said. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I can see you’re itching to go running. I can also see that you’re fighting it.”
