Page 101 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Myles got up and pointed to the door leading to the back rooms.

Good. Steven hadn’t relished having this conversation with witnesses. He tried not to feel self-conscious as he followed Myles through the door while Kreed and Lucky emphatically did not look up from what they were doing.

Jake gave him two thumbs-up as he passed, and Steven chuckled. Thank you, Jake, for being Jake. He returned the gesture with one hand, and then they were through the door and alone.

They’d made it through the door, which closed with a thump behind them, and along a narrow corridor to a small room with a bed, layered throw rugs underfoot, and the sparse but serviceable decor of a guest room.

Myles sank onto the bed, head still hanging. He said nothing.

Steven pulled a chair over from the nearby table and set it facing him. Before he sat, he went to the adjoining bathroom to fetch a damp cloth, towel, and the small first-aid box he noticed in the under-sink cupboard that popped open when he entered.

“Thanks,” he said to the room as he removed it.

The sink’s tap came on, water lukewarm.

“Helpful.”

The lights flickered in what he could only interpret as a self-satisfied way.

“Maybe you should chat with my house,” Steven said conversationally. “It seems to be pouting. Or angry? Or sad? I’m not sure. I actually don’t know what to do.” He turned the taps off and wrung out the cloth. “But I’m open to some ideas.”

Nothing.

“Right.” He patted the countertop. “Guess that’s asking a bit much.”

When he got back to the bedroom, Myles was still sitting in front of the empty chair, gazing at his banged-up knuckles. Steven took a seat in the chair and then took one of Myles’s hands in his.

“Going to tell me what happened?” he asked as he started dabbing at one of the knuckles.

Myles pulled back. “I thought the sight of blood made you pass out.”

“Mine, sure.” Steven took his hand back. “Other people’s, just mildly queasy, so let’s not drag this out.”

Tension left Myles’s hand and he sighed. “Thanks.”

“Just returning a favour.”

That got a nod, and while Steven cleaned that hand, spread medicated gel over the worst abrasions, then wrapped them in gauze and tape, the silence of the room hummed around them.

“Other one too?” he asked when he was done.

Myles lifted it for inspection, but apparently the fight hadn’t gotten to the point he had to throw punches with his off hand.

“My elbow, though?” Myles asked as he shrugged out of his overshirt.

Steven ignored the way the T-shirt beneath hugged his toned chest, and rearranged them so he had a good look at the abraded elbow. “Might hurt some,” he warned. “You got some gravel embedded in there.”

“Yeah, I figured. Nearly got a truck grill to the back of my skull, so it could have been worse.”

That made Steven’s gut churn way more than the blood, and his heart skip way more than a summer fling should. He silently cursed his stupid heart, his stupid head, his stupid, stupid self for not flinging the way he’d meant to. Then he breathed as evenly as he could and set those thoughts aside for later.

“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t ask this time, and stopped just short of demanding it, but he did feel Myles pull in a sharp breath. “Start simple,” he suggested, as he might have with Jake when he was little. “What was it about?”

“No idea.”

“You don’t know why you punched someone?”

“I know why I did. He was beating up a kid. I stopped him.”