Page 82 of Balance
My steps slowed and apprehension began to replace my earlier determination.
Who was I to interrupt this, or even try to butt in? He said he didn’t even want us here, and really, what gave me the right to tell him to do anything?
“Come sit with me,” Miles said, interrupting my thoughts.
I’d zoned off, probably for only a second, and my breath froze as I was suddenly caught under his heavy stare. “Um…”
Where had all my confidence gone?
“Come on.” His grin was infectious and almost shy, and he inched over, petting the stone surface beside him. “Please?”
I couldn’t refuse him, not with the way he watched me with those brown puppy dog eyes.
“Okay.” I closed the distance between us. Sitting where he’d indicated, I pulled my knees to my chest as Miles bent his knee, hooking his arm around his leg.
We sat silently just watching the forest, and it felt like forever had passed before Miles finally spoke again. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The words were in such contradiction to what Damen had just relayed that I could only stare at him, unsure how to respond.
His gaze moved from mine, refocusing on the view, and he stammered, “I mean, I missed you.”
But…
“Then why do you want us to leave?” I didn’t understand him at all. He was being sweet again—not that he really had ever stopped. Despite our closeness, why did it feel like he was pushing me away?
“What?” Miles blinked, an expression of genuine puzzlement twisting at his face. Then understanding, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Ah,that.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t want Titus around for my research. He tends to scare away the beasties.”
“Your research…”
“On Sasquatch,” he replied, watching me warily. “You’re the same as you’ve always been on this topic.”
What was that supposed to mean? We’d only discussed this once.
But I was tired of arguing. And who knew? Even though every fiber of my being recoiled at the thought, maybe he wasn’t entirely incorrect. Other mythological creatures existed, so why not?
“Damen said that you’re afraid of failing,” I told him, though in retrospect, perhaps that wasn’t how Damen had worded it at all.
Miles had tensed at my statement, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not going to fail.”
“But what is he talking about, exactly? He didn’t say other than it had nothing to do with your school.”
“It doesn’t.”
“So what—”
“Don’t worry about it.” The ground began to rumble under us. His face was stony hardness and steadfast determination as he watched the horizon.
“O-okay…” My chest was tight—had I upset him? He’d always been so open in the past, but everyone did say that Miles was the quiet, secretive type.
I just never believed it.
The closed-off look in his eyes faded, followed by regret, and he sighed. He leaned toward me, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, and lowered his face toward mine until our noses were almost touching. “I’m not angry,” he said. “I just don’t wantyouto have to worry about it. You have enough to deal with right now.”
“Deal with?” I asked, searching his face. I’d suspected for a while, but, “Does this have anything to do with not bonding with you right away? Is it my fault?”
He sucked in a breath, and I knew.
Guilt twisted at me. “I want to bond with you,” I told him, grabbing his shirt. “I just didn’t know what to do, and…”
