Page 4 of Outspoken

He straightens and pulls out his wallet. As he slips two bucks into the machine, I study the confidence in his posture and the friendly glint in his dark brown eyes. He’s attractive, laid-back, and comforting to be around. Brody always talks about Miguel like he’s a player who falls in love too fast and then gets clingy with women. But the man in front of me doesn't seem to fit that description.

The second candy bar gets stuck, so he pounds the machine with his fist. The bars fall and he grabs them from the bottom. “Here,” he says, handing me one. “Sometimes it takes a bit of extra work, but we got there.” He tears his wrapper open and takes a massive bite of chocolate and nougat.

I watch him chew. “Thanks. A personal trainer who eats carbs and chocolate?” I ask, trying to tease him but only sounding weak and barely able to form sentences.

He smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After chewing and swallowing, he says, “I don’t do bodybuilding competitions like Brody does. And I fucking love chocolate.”

A full smile lifts my cheeks. It feels good to be normal again for a moment—to not be smothered by so much anxiety and fear. But the bad will creep back in. That's the major flaw in my personality—the darkness always creeps back in.

I fiddle with the corner of the candy bar wrapper, and the emotions I’ve been fighting coming right back to the surface. My words don’t sugarcoat the situation because I’ve gone through too much shit in my life for that. “Do you think he’ll die?”

Miguel’s gaze drops to the floor, his dark, bushy brows heavy with concern. After gnawing the inside of his cheek, he meets my eyes. He’s confident when he says, “No. Brody is a fighter, and he has excellent medical care. I know this hospital. Great staff. They know what they’re doing, so we have to trust he’ll get better soon. Siempre busca las estrellas.”

“What does that mean?”

“Always look for the stars. My mom is filled with endless words of wisdom like that. Feels like it fits this situation. Even if everything is stormy and looks bad, just focus on the stars, focus on hope, to get you through.” He smirks. “Too cheesy?”

I shake my head, feeling strangely comforted by picturing the stars that are always out there in space—how they shine even as blackness surrounds them.

With one final bite, Miguel’s candy bar is gone. He nods his chin at me. “Have you been here this whole time? You should go home. Brody is resting and you need to do the same.”

I nibble on a small corner of my bar, the chocolate bland and dull on my tongue. Normally, I love sweets, but right now my body wants to reject everything. I don’t remember how much I’ve eaten—not enough—and my stomach is swallowing itself. Forcing food down is too hard right now.

“I don’t want Brody to wake up alone,” I say. “I’ve woken alone in hospitals, and it’s not a good feeling.” I avoid his gaze. I’m sure Miguel has heard all about my ‘visits’ to the hospital. I wonder what he really thinks of me—Brody’s crazy, unpredictable, suicidal sister.

“I get it,” Miguel offers. “But you need rest. You’ve been through a lot too, and if he wakes while you’re gone, he’ll understand. I can stay with him for a few hours while you go home and sleep. Dustin is coming to visit later, so he’ll stay with Brody after that. He won’t be alone for long.”

My first reaction is to protest, but Miguel is right. I’ll black out if I go much longer without sleep. I just don’t want Brody to be alone, so if Miguel and Dustin stay, I'll feel better about getting a couple hours of sleep away from this stuffy hospital. Then I'll come right back. “Okay,” I agree softly. “I just need to grab my stuff first.”

“On it,” Miguel says, then jogs around the corner. He returns seconds later with my black leather jacket and purse.

Iactuallylaugh. “You did not go to the room that quick.”

“I set your stuff on a chair out of sight. I didn't want to approach carrying it as if I was kicking you out of the hospital. I don't have that authority.”

I sling my purse over my shoulder and fold the jacket over my arm. “Well, thanks for not kicking me out.”

He flashes me a dimpled smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I turn so he can't see my blush. He's growing on me a little too much, and it needs to stop. There's too much going on for me to think about how appealing Brody's friend is. Plus, Brody told me Miguel is a flirt, so I’m sure he acts this way around all women.

“Hey,” he calls after me as I’m escaping. “I like your jacket.”

I stop, glancing at the black leather jacket in my arms.What a strange comment.“Um, thanks,” I say over my shoulder.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Um…” I flip the jacket in my hands. It doesn't have a tag, so I don't know the brand, but it's pretty stylish and is made well. “I don't know. I've just always had it.”

The jacket had been hanging in my closet for years, and it’s clearly a men’s jacket, judging from the angular cut and style. I figured some guy I banged had left it behind when I was living alone, and I packed it with me when I moved in with Brody. A few days ago, while I was scrambling to dress and follow the ambulance, I grabbed the first jacket my hand touched. It was a good pick. Since it’s leather, it kept me warm in this freezing hospital.

It also makes me feel peaceful, like I’m getting a warm hug from someone who cares for me. It’s homey, if a jacket can be that.

“Cool,” Miguel says, flashing his sweet, heart-warming dimple. “I bet it looks good on you.”

I nod and then leave.Cute, but definitely strange.

Chapter Two

---