Page 117 of Look, Don't Touch

“No. I won’t take much of your time.”

I wonder why he’s here. I doubt it’s to warn me off his friend since he called me Arlo’s heart the first time we met, which was consequently the last time I’ve seen him. “I have an hour and a half until my next appointment. Take as much time as you need.”

“I’m not here for therapy.” He says this with a grin.

“We could all use a therapist.”

“I have one, actually. I’ve been seeing them for five years now.”

“That’s wonderful. So many people don’t think they need therapy when we can all benefit from it.”

His smile goes wide, showing straight white teeth.

I can’t help but smile back. “What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” I laugh. “What exactly are you thanking me for, Hotaru?”

He interlaces his fingers. They’re long and smooth, well-manicured. He braces his forearms on his knees. The breadth of his suit is tested by the move. I scoot closer and cross my legs at the ankle.

“I’ve known Arlo since we were fourteen, nearly fifteen.”

“At the boarding school.”

His smile falters, and his face turns glum for the barest of seconds before bouncing back.

“When he was still being abused by his uncle?”

“Yes.” He growls. His shoulders roll, and he sits straight. “Arlo has only allowed me to touch him a handful of times in all eighteen years I’ve known him. Two of those times he was so sick, he didn’t have a choice. Well, not much of one. Me or the first responders.”

My heart lurches, thinking of Arlo so sick and so abhorrent of touch.

“He’s only ever reached out and touched me twice.” I see the pain in his eyes. I can hear it in his pretty voice. “That was until yesterday.” His jaw flexes as though trying to keep himself in check.

“What happened yesterday?”

“He hugged me.” Hota gives a half laugh, half choke. “He wrapped his arms around my chest and hugged me to his.” He swallows, and his prominent Adam’s apple bobs.

I hadn’t realized my hands are clutched together until I cover my mouth with them. “Oh, Hota.” I blink, trying hard to keep my emotions at bay. “That is wonderful.” It’s great for him. It’s amazing for Arlo. It’s even better for their friendship.

He clears his throat. “You’ve settled something in him I never could. So thank you, Hailey.”

My tears come with a smile plastered on my face.

Hota moves from his seat, grabs a tissue off the coffee table, and kneels in front of me before I can blink. “I don’t mean to upset you.”

“You’ve made me happy.” I take the tissue and blot at my eyes. “So happy,” I reassure him. “I was truly afraid that my touch would be the only touch he would withstand. I’ve seen him shake a few people’s hands in the past two weeks, but a hug is vulnerability. It’s expressing emotion through touch.” I wipe the tip of my nose. “He deserves to experience touch from others who love him and those he loves.”

I look into Hotaru’s sweet and shockingly deep eyes.

“I haven’t known him long. I know he loves you.”

His head bows. A deep sorrow suddenly weighs on him. His shoulders expand with a deep breath. I put my hand on his collar. With the shirt and suit coat between our skin, I’m careful not to touch his neck, but I give him a reassuring weight. He exhales slowly, seeming to center himself with little effort. Just before he lifts his head, I withdraw my hand.

“Now, for the reason he sent me.” Hota’s eyes gleam clear again.

“He sent you?”

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