Page 49 of Missed Sunrise
I paused my strumming. “And the guy? Who was he?”
Liem furrowed his brow and immediately winced, causing my heart to nearly beat out of my chest.
I hated to see him in pain.
I slid one of my hands out from under his, letting his open palm fall to my thigh as I grasped his face. I brushed a thumb over his cheekbone and leaned closer to study the cut.
His breath fanned my face as he leaned into my touch as he explained, misinterpreting my question. “It was just some random townsperson who created my one-man pileup. I’m certain it was an accident. I don’t think the guy even noticed he’d sent me airborne.”
“Asshole,” I murmured, wishing I knew who the careless person who hurt Liem was. But it was probably better that I—and therefore Vinh—never found out. I pulled back just enoughto meet his gaze, our noses nearly touching. “But that’s not who I meant. I meant the EMT, assuming he’s actually a professional.”
“Oh. Jeremiah.”
My chest grew impossibly tight just hearing Liem say the name with any ounce of familiarity.
I’d truly lost my mind.
“Yeah.Jeremiah,” I repeated, feeling only a touch of mortification at the petty way I’d said it.
If I thought Liem’s eyes had been twinkling before, they were practically live fireworks now. “Do you have something to say, Cody?”
I grunted again. “He’s not a very good EMT. Was he volunteering or something?”
Amused, Liem shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
Good.
His expression veered toward concern as he asked, “Did you want to tell me what happened before you made it to the gazebo? You didn’t seem yourself.”
We’d been talking in hushed tones up until this point, the atmosphere of the partially lit alley stairwell naturally demanding it. That, paired with our positions, me idly stroking Liem’s face and his hand cradled in mine, had the moment feeling unbearably intimate.
But I didn’t want it to end.
I was basically holding Liem, given how close we were. Or he was holding me. I really wasn’t sure; I just knew that this was something… else. Something more.
He was smaller than me, but so much more vital, his spirit and energy brighter than anything I’d ever known.
Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I groaned as I realized my mistake. Wood pencils, charcoal, salty sea air. Had he always smelled like that? It was like the embodiment of deliverance and nostalgia edged with just enough reality to make it painful.
“Cody,” he said, his voice as breathless as I’d ever heard it, but I couldn’t look.
I shouldn’t.
My body was fully on board, attuned and engaged to everything that Liem was.
But that same body had abandoned me in the worst ways recently, and my mind had done nothing to prevent it.
Like a fucking coward, I shut my eyes and rested my head against his shoulder, finding his skin soft and warm.
It grounded me enough to lay myself bare.
“I had a panic attack ordering a frappe, Liem.”
He circled his arms around my neck, then traced a finger lightly down my back. I let myself have that for just a moment, then shuddered as I pulled back. “Don’t hurt your hands. Please, just….”
I felt bereft, something almost like grief overtaking me as I cradled his hands again and rested them on top of my thighs. When I raised my gaze to his, I had to swallow thickly at the absolute compassion I found there before I could speak again.
He was so good at that. At being.
