Page 13 of Perfectly Us
“Alex?”
“Huh?” I focus on Shiloh. “What did you say?”
Concern washes over him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile to prove it. “I’m great. So what does a semicolon have to do with mental health?”
“Well, a writer uses one when they could’ve chosen to end a sentence but didn’t. It means that your story, your life, went on.”
I look at him then.Reallylook at him. There’s something familiar about the shadows in his blue eyes.
“Did yours?”
Shiloh breaks eye contact. Doesn’t answer me.
The patio door opens, and people spill outside. Guys tear off their shirts and kick off their shoes before diving into the pool. Girls strip down to their bras and panties before joining them. There’s laughter and squeals. Music from inside the house is louder now because they left the door open.
“No drinks in the pool!” Ruben says, snatching a beer out of our buddy Tyler’s hand.
“Okay, Mom.”
Ruben smacks the back of Tyler’s head, and Tyler grabs his arm and pulls him into the pool, fully clothed.
“You asshole.” Ruben wipes at his face as he surfaces, the hair he took forever fixing earlier now soaking wet and dripping. He’s not pissed for long because Melody swims over to him, and he smiles as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Water splashes my legs as two guys from the football team cannonball jump into the pool. Laughing, I get to my feet, prepared to take off my clothes and join the fun, but then I see that Shiloh isn’t beside me anymore.
I look around and see the back of his head as he disappears into the house. I follow him. More people rush outside, and I dodge them as I enter the kitchen.
“Hey, Shiloh!”
He turns as he reaches the archway leading into the living room.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stopping in front of him.
“I…” His gaze darts around, and he seems so nervous. “Sorry. I just had to get out of there. I don’t like being…” He licks his lips before pressing them together. I find it much sexier than I probably should. “Enclosed.”
“What do you mean?”
“All the people around me and all the noise. I don’t know. It’s dumb.”
“I don’t think it’s dumb.”
His blue eyes shift to me. “You don’t?”
“I love people. I love noise. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand how it can be too much sometimes, ya know? Like sensory overload. I read that introverts can feel drained in crowds. Anxious too. Is that how you are?”
Shiloh averts his gaze. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Man, no way,” a guy I don’t know says, coming up to us. He slaps Shiloh on the back. “Shiloh Walker. I heard you spent some time in the nuthouse for slicing up your wrists. Can’t believe they let your crazy ass out.”
Nuthouse? Huh?
Shiloh jerks away from him and bumps into the wall. He looks at me, his pupils blown wide. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he shakes his head and steps backward. “I gotta go.”
He heads for the front door.
“Wait!” I try to go after him, but the guy slings a beefy arm around my shoulders.
