I lower myself slowly, gritting my teeth as my thighs start to burn. “How much is on here?”
“No talking,” he chides, eyes flicking to my ass once my hips drop. “Give me five.”
Five doesn’t sound like much, but by the third lift, my thighs scream, my breath is shot and sweat mists the back of my neck. My pulse is flying by the fourth, and when I drop once more, my legs shake, and the weight’s pressing me down too hard.
“Calm down, Millie,” Creed says. “You’ve got this, baby. Take a deep breath andget up.”
I let his voice and proximity soothe my growing panic. He’s two steps away, he’ll help if I fail, but I have to at least try.
It’s hard, but I inhale, hold, and force myself up, a broken, relieved sound tearing from my lips once I straighten and step forward, racking the bar.
Creed steps into my line of sight, both hands bracketing my shoulders as I fold into his arms.
“Good girl, Millie. You didn’t quit,” he says, his fingers weaving into my hair.
“I wanted to.”
“Yeah, but youdidn’t.”
37
Millie
I spot Noah smoking outside the cafeteria, and my stomach does a weird nervous flip. Not because he lied on my behalf, though I still hadn’t thanked him for it, but mainly because we haven’t been alone once since I cried my eyes out in his arms.
For a second, I consider ducking around the corner, but his head lifts and his eyes find me before I can.
He doesn’t smile, but that’s nothing new. Noah rarely smiles. Dropping his cigarette, he grinds it out with his boot and pushes off the wall, waiting for me to come closer.
“Hey,” I say, adjusting my book bag.
“Hey, beautiful.”
My face warms, head full of dreams that still plague me despite the almost daily orgasms Creed wrings out of me. It warms more when I recall how I tilted my head and triedkissing Noah, all teary-eyed and snotty.
“Thank you for not ratting me out to Hyde the other day,” I say, easing myself into the conversation.
“You’re welcome. Next time, try less stuttering.”
I smile but it’s hollow and I stutter again while blurting out, “Should we... I mean, should we talk? You know, about... about me trying to kiss you?”
“We don’t have to talk,” he cuts in, catching on before I spell it out. “You were upset, Millie. I get it.”
“I don’t want things to be weird.”
He focuses on something in the distance, then quickly steps closer, hooking a finger under my chin.
“It’s not weird.” He tilts my face up same way Creed does, the control in his gesture more grounded, though. “You chosehimand I respect that. I respect you both. He’s a good man, Millie, even if he doesn’t believe that, but if he upsets you again, accidentally or not, you come straight to me, understood?”
I nod automatically, goosebumps dotting the back of my neck when his thumb brushes my jaw. His eyes flick over my shoulder then back to me.
“I don’t want you alone in your room wondering about sleeping pills,” he continues, much quieter. “I’ll hold you while you cry. I just won’t let you fuck me as a displacement technique.”
“Oh, I... that’s not—”
I almost jump out of my skin when my brother’s big hands fallon my shoulders.
“It’s just me,” he chuckles, tucking me under his arm. “You good? What are you guys talking about?”
