Page 95 of Fragile

“Just don’t go all ‘dad’ on me again,” I tease cautiously, wondering if he’s okay with joking with me again.

“Shit.” He chuckles and rubs his jaw. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but get the practice in now for when you and Indie make little mini humans, because they’re going to be wild little things.”

“Jesus, that’s more terrifying than you marrying my sister.” He laughs, but there’s a pause, and he looks at me with something more serious in his eyes. “You know, I’m trusting you with her. That’s not easy for me, even though I know you. You’ve got to prove you’re good for her.”

“I know, and I won’t let you down.”

Without a word, Seb steps forward and pulls me into a hug, his arms firm around me. I hug him back without hesitation, gripping his shoulder with my good hand.

He pulls back, giving me a final once-over, like he’s making sure I mean everything I’ve said. And I do.

Chapter forty-four

Quinn

I’m at my desk,textbooks spread out in front of me, I even got my scrapbook out too as a distraction, but my thoughts are miles away. My pencil taps absently against the page as I worry about Miles. Is he resting? Probably not. Is he okay? Does he need anything? Ugh, I should go to him. Or text him, at least.

I get up and grab my phone, sending him a quick text. Just as I'm about to turn back to my notes, the door to my room creaks open, and I look up in surprise.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I blurt out, my heart racing.

Miles leans against the doorframe, causally, like he wasn’t in a hospital bed yesterday, just like he doesn’t have anywhere else he’d rather be. His hoodie is half-draped over his injured arm, the white cast peeking out, but it doesn’t diminish him in the slightest. If anything, it adds to his rugged appeal. There’s a hint of stubble shadowing his jawline, and for a split second, I catch myself thinking that I wouldn’t mind if he kept it. But it’s his smirk that really gets me, tugging at the corner of his lips likehe knows exactly the effect he has on me. Man, oh man, he’s breathtaking.

“Jeez, you sound like your brother. I’m fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, pushing off the doorway and stepping toward me.

“But you need rest. You got knocked out and broke your arm, or did you forget?”

Miles looks at me with such intensity, I almost lose my footing. His gaze shifts to my lips before he leans in and brushes his briefly against mine. “Hmm, you smell good.”

My brain catches on his earlier words before I lose myself in his kisses. “Wait,” I say as I pull back to look at him. “You saw my brother today?”

He reaches back, digging something out from his hoodie pocket. “I did,” he replies with a nod. “I hope you aren’t thinking about him as I kiss you, though.”

“And?” I’m too anxious for his playfulness right now.

“And I told him everything.” He sits on my bed, pushing off his shoes, holding up the bag of gummy worms he’s got for me. My eyes dart to the bag of candy in his hands, but my mind is stuck on what he said. Oh god. My chest tightens at the thought.

“E-everything?” I stumble, unable to keep the nerves from my voice.

“Come sit down with me.” He pats the side of my bed, but I don’t miss the way he ignores my question. In an ideal world, it’d all work out and everyone would be happy with the situation, but I have no idea how Seb would feel about everything and that scares me a little.

Still, I go to Miles, because I can’t not. He’s my person.

“For you.” He places the bag of candy in my lap, and I just stare, dumfounded, at the gesture. He went out of his way to get these after being in hospital. My mind can’t comprehend why he would do that.

Before I can say anything, he gently tilts my face toward his, his finger under my chin, and leans in to press a firm kiss to my lips. “And that was for me,” he murmurs against my mouth.

I’m speechless, overwhelmed by the urge to blurt out how much I love him, how much he means to me. The words are on the tip of my tongue, burning to escape, but all I can do is stare at him, my heart overflowing with emotions too big to put into words. Story of my life with this boy.

“You know, your brother has a mean ‘dad’ face. It’s scarier than your actual dad’s.”

Clearing my throat, I manage to find my voice. “He does? Huh. Wait, does that mean he got all philosophical on you too?”

“No.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “But we talked, and it’s good.”

“Good?” I question. If he’s not going to give me answers, I might burst.