Tears collect on my lashes as I snake my arms beneath his.
“Can I … put my hand in your hair, Em?”
“No.”
“Okay. It’s okay.”
I don’t even realize I’m crying completely until he whispers that again.
It’s okay, bubbles. It’s okay.
I hold onto it, and him, as the sobs rack over me so harshly that I tremble. Shake.
“I got you, Emmett. You’re safe with me,” he whispers, his arms tightening around my shoulders, his palm flattening just beneath the folded hood against my upper back.
I cry harder.
Hold him tighter.
It feels so fucking …good.
“Don’t let go,” I half sob, half beg into the skin of his bare chest with eyes squeezed shut and trembling fingers. They poke out of my sleeves and dig into the muscles of his back.
“I won’t,” he says strongly, if not a little strained, and I feel his cheek rest on my head. “Not until you do.”
I swallow back the thickness and the sounds that want to escape me, and nod. “M-m-my hair. Touch my hair.”
His chest expands in my grip.
“Baby, you don’t have to push yourself. I’m here.I’m right here.”
Baby.
Babybabybaby.
A sob bursts passed my lips, and I flatten my cheek to his chest.
His skin on mine … the heat of him—
His heartbeat thunders against me and I suck back a breath. Then another.
My chest loosens.
Another and I feel for him. Sync them as best I can. Focus on that pounding of his life right against my face.
I haven’t been this close to anyone. Not since before.
His fingers move over my shoulders, little circles that smooth over me. I can feel the motion settle all the way down to my stomach that flutters just like it did when I sipped the tea he brought me.
Green tea with blueberries.
I didn’t even know teacouldbe green.
“T-t-thank you,” I choke out and take what feels like my first full breath.
“What for?”
It’s been so long ago now, at least it feels like it has been. Does he even remember that?
