I swallow, not wanting to interfere. They’ve obviously been through this with Cannon before. My gaze lands on the bracelet on his wrist—outright fixates on it. It’s kinda like the one Will wore. A medical alert bracelet. My chest squeezes so hard I can’t catch a breath. I knew from Cannon’s prescriptions. From my snooping.
“Elle.”
I blink rapidly, jarred from my thoughts by the authoritative tone in Kingston’s voice. Embarrassed, I swipe away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Yeah?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s in a safe place, and we’re watching him.” He grits his teeth. “If it bothers you—”
My eyes snap to his, flashing through a fresh wave of emotion. “It doesn’t. He can’t help it.”
Kingston puts a hand up, palm out, acknowledging his error in judgment. “I should have figured as much. It’s fine. Just don’t expect him to be happy when he realizes you witnessed it.”
I shrug helplessly. “Too late.”
Archer cocks his head to the side, holding out his hand to me. “Come here, Peaches.”
Carefully giving Cannon a wide berth, I walk over to Archer, immediately comforted when he puts an arm around me and tugs me close. I breathe in the scent of his musky cologne. We wait.
About thirty seconds later, he glances at his watch. “Three.”
“What’s that mean?” I whisper, unsure if I want to know, but determined to understand what’s happening.
Archer presses his lips to the top of my head, kissing me briefly before he answers. “We call for help at the five-minute mark. If it stops before that, he shouldn’t need medical attention, just rest.”
“It’s never gone that long before,” Kingston grunts out, then nods, almost as if to reassure himself. “He’ll be fine.”
And like he willed it for his friend, the jerking movements begin to slow.
I bury my face in Archer’s chest, relief pouring through every cell of my body. My breath shudders from me. “How often does he go through this?”
“This is the seventh one we’ve witnessed. Multiple freshman year, alone. The stress, I think, especially with the initiation on top of being in a new environment.”
Hearing a noise behind me, I turn in time to see Kingston squat down in front of Cannon with a box of tissues and gently wipe drool from his mouth. That act of tenderness makes my heart tighten and takes my breath away. If I ever had a question as to their loyalty and love for one another, that, right there, is proof of it. They share such a strong bond, they truly are more like blood-relations, far beyond the definition of the brotherhood.
Cannon’s body has begun to relax, though he hasn’t come around yet. “I think that’s it for this one. Start timing again.”
I jerk in Archer’s arms. “Why?” My heart begins to race.
“It’s fine. We time how long it takes for him to regain consciousness. Again, looking at a five-minute window.”
“Did you know? The first time it happened?”
“Nope. Fuckin’ scary. We learned fast, though. Once I knew, I did a lot of research to make sure I understood everything I possibly could.”
I smile up at Archer, then swing my gaze to Kingston. “You’re good friends.”
Quietly, Kingston murmurs, “We try to do what we can to make him more comfortable about it. It’s hard on him, not just physically but emotionally, too.”
Archer smooths a hand down my back. “Dammit, he’s going to be pissed. He was almost to the six-month mark of being seizure free where he’d be allowed to drive.”
Understanding dawns on me. He was upset with himself that day when he couldn’t drive me home from campus. I hadn’t known at the time what the problem was, and I guess I was too caught up with everything else to think to ask.
Kingston eyes Cannon as he makes a small sound, then whispers, “I wish he’d put that idea out of his head. It’s not a big fucking deal. It’s safer for him not to.” He puts a hand on Cannon’s bicep, squeezing, and leans close. “Hey, man. You there?”
Out of nowhere, it hits me. “Is this why he doesn’t talk a lot?”
Air gusts from Archer’s lungs. “Peaches. He’ll share what he wants when he’s ready.”
I nod, watching as Cannon begins to move a bit more. “Yeah. Okay.”
