“Mylo?” Her eyes widen as she sees me, too surprised to hide the flashes of relief and guilt that cross her features. Her board clatters to the ground.
Her scent hits me like a tidal wave, dragging me under. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.
My knees wobble.
And then her arms are around my ribs, steadying me, her lips against my forehead.
I think I might be crying.
Then everything goes hot and dark.
CHAPTER
FORTY-FOUR
CHRISTINE
Haley reachesMylo’s side a second after I do.
“Christine, you’re al—Mylo?!”
His weight slides into me as his muscles go lax, and I scoop an arm under his legs, lifting him to my chest. He shivers violently, clinging to my shirt.
Haley’s eyes are wide with concern. “He was fine a second ago…”
I’ve barely processed that they’rehere, let alone what Haley does or doesn’t know.
“Let’s go inside.”
Haley hurries to turn off her car, then follows me into the guest house. The back wall is all floor-to-ceiling glass, and the afternoon sun pours into the cozy, rustic space.
“There’s tea in the cupboard,” I say to Haley, nodding at one of the solid-wood cabinets in the understated luxury kitchen. It’ll give her something to do with her hands; that should help.
Haley nods, finding three mugs and a few of those fancy pyramid-shaped tea bags. She lays out the bags on autopilot, not fretting over what kind each person wants, which is how I know she’s rattled.
I lean back against a barstool by the island, cradling Mylo against my chest. I don’t really have an idea of what to do; I just know I’m not putting him down.
Haley fills a vintage kettle and puts it on the commercial-grade range. The gas clicks and whooshes to life under her hand, and her brow furrows in thought. Then she turns suddenly, staring at me.
“You were—I thought—I was soworriedabout you, Christine! Why haven’t you answered anyone’s calls?!”
Guilt pangs through me. “I’m sorry. I left my phone in LA. I needed a… digital detox. I didn’t plan to be gone this long.”
“You’re not hurt or sick?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“But now Mylo’s sick!” Haley puts a hand to her forehead.
“He’s fine.” I’m not sure if I’m reassuring Haley or myself.
“You and I both just watched him faint!”
“He’ll… be fine. He’s tough.” I’m not sure I should be so calm now, but my omega is in my arms. Everything is right in the world.
He nuzzles against my chest, more dazed than unconscious. His bright citrus scent fills my nose, softening toward honey around the edges. There are odd hints of spice, a whiff of bitterness; I think his nervous system is just overwhelmed.
“Maybe he caught something on the plane,” Haley mutters.
