I glance at the time.
16:45
Dammit, how long was I out for?
The door opens, and the guy I met the other day, the one with dark hair and deep blue eyes walks in, with Hammond close behind him.
“Hey London, how you doin’?” he says, a wide grin growing on his face.
“Oh hi, fine thanks. I was just about to head home.” I slide my hands into my back pockets, fingers sweeping over the warm hard surface of my phone.
I pluck it out.
Four missed calls.
Hammond.
Oh shit.
“Hey London,” he says as Lawson—I think that was his name—drops an overnight bag on the floor by the front door.
“Hey,” I utter, gaze stuck on his face that looks too pale. His messy hair. The bags under his eyes.
He looks terrible.
“Are you up for a sleepover?” Lawson asks.
I snap my gaze to him, my bottom lip sinking between my teeth.
“Our boy here can’t be left alone for the next seventy-two hours. And I really have to get home.”
“Oh, um . . . okay.”
We’re on four days off, so I guess I could, but?—
“No, you go home. That’s where you were heading, right?” Miles says, walking to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and grabbing out a bottle of water. Tipping his head back, he swallows down a few mouthfuls before he sways, hitting the kitchen counter with his side.
“Ah shit.”
“Sit down before you fall down, bud. Better still, back to bed.” Lawson nods to the door leading to the bedroom.
I can’t leave Miles alone if he’s like this. What if he gets worse and nobody’s here?
I flip my phone out and update Mum.
She sends back a wink emoji, and I leave her on read. Smart-ass.
“On second thought, I could use a lie down,” Miles says, placing the bottle on the counter.
“Good, you alright to stay?” Lawson looks to me.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great, text me if you need anything. My number is on the big guy’s phone.”
He’s out the door before I can ask any more questions.
And for an awkward moment, Miles and I simply stand rooted to the floor, staring at each other.
