Page 93 of Silent Shadows

“I’m sorry,” he says, softer this time.

The words catch me off guard.

“For what?”

“For bringing you into this.”

I blink. “What are you talking about?”

“The Ridgefield guys. The woods. Tonight.” He rubs the back of his neck once. “I know you came out here hoping for something fun and weird. Not dangerous.”

Something in his expression twists for half a second. Guilt and responsibility.

The thing is, I can tell this is how he’s wired.

He carries everything. The crew. The risks. The outcomes. He probably feels guilty about a rainy day.

“That wasn’t your fault,” I say gently. “None of it. And I knew what I was getting into, more or less.” I laugh and shrug.

His eyes flick up to mine, his face serious.

And for one suspended second, the room goes very still.

Then Miles launches into another ramble.

“So technically, statistically speaking, wilderness confrontations between rival investigation groups are extremely uncommon and usually involve territorial disputes over evidence collection or permit access, which honestly is why I hate crews like Ridgefield because they prioritize spectacle over field ethics and⁠—”

I burst out laughing.

He stops instantly.

“What?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking yourself in circles because you’re experiencing what I think are… feelings?”

Miles stares at me in horror.

“That is not what’s happening.”

“It for sure is. But Miles, it’s okay. We did kiss, after all.” I shrug, a smile spreading over my face.

“Wait…” He pauses as if he caught me in a lie, which technically he did. “So you admit it?!”

I start laughing, and he wiggles his eyebrows while I laugh harder.

And then, unexpectedly, he starts laughing too.

Quiet at first.

Then real.

Warm and helpless and completely unguarded.

God.