Miles from Home - Max and Harvey Mills FanFiction

Miles from Home - CH 6

CHAPTER SIX

After lying in bed and staring at the white smoke detector and smooth beige paint of the ceiling for what must be over an hour, I close my eyes and jamb my pillow over my face. The heat of my breath bounces off the cool cotton of the pillowcase back onto the skin of my lips and cheeks, I inhale the English breakfast tea still faintly lingering as my stomach groans and growls. Behind my door, in the hallway, muffled voices—speaking in what I assume to be Tagalog—accompany the footsteps of several people as they pass by the door to my room. I'm a little surprised that Max, Harvey, or Dalton haven't knocked on my door or texted me by now—I imagine perhaps they're all talking to each other about what happened.

I wonder what Max is saying. I wonder if he's all right. I wonder if he understands—although, I wonder if I really understand it all, myself. I replay it all over and over in my head, especially the promise he made—I wonder if he'll even bother to keep it now. Pushing him away was the only thing I could have done. I didn't have much of a choice with how quickly Harvey and Dalton came upon us. My phone vibrates. I remove my phone from my pocket, partly hoping that it's Max. I sigh. It's Dalton. His message reads, 'You don't have to tell me about what's going on between you two. Are you all right? Do I need to cover for you tomorrow?'

I resist the urge to ignore the text—all I want is to have some time alone to think. I text Dalton, 'I'm fine. Thanks,' but I delete that and really wonder if I am. I wonder if I can still do my job without issue. I wonder if it would be best to let Dalton handle the day tomorrow, but I know it wouldn't be right to let Dalton take on twice the workload. A firm set of two knocks at my door startle me and my face jumps slightly off my pillow. I walk over to check the door, thinking it's probably Dalton being impatient with waiting for my reply text. As I check through the fish-eye lens of the peep hole viewer, I'm surprised to see Max in the hall, leaning his shoulder against the adjacent wall staring at the floor—eyes wide. The pounding in my chest rises to claw at my throat and I don't know what I should say. I have the urge to ignore him until he walks away, but the urge to explain what happened seems to be greater. I open the door just as Max turns his back to leave.

"May I come in?" Max asks with a low tone as he turns to face me, his brows slightly furling and his eyes crinkling as he looks up for my answer. A hint of smoky cedarwood brushes my senses as I notice the navy blue leather braid of my gift that's still prominently around his wrist.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I say, still holding the door open with one hand. His hazel eyes drop to the floor. "I'm sorry for pushing you—I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No, you didn't." With his hazel eyes still to the floor, they turn towards the door. "Not physically."

"But you understand why I did it?" I ask, perhaps hoping that he'll help me to fully understand it, myself.

"I thought you needed a hug." He glances at the bracelet upon his wrist. "We're friends, so I didn't think—I'm sorry. I won't hug you anymore."

"It's not that I don't—" I close my eyes, stopping myself from what I really want to say. That unknown emptiness returns to the bottom of my chest as we lock eyes. I want to tell him that I don't mind hugs—that I need them in a way that I never knew before, but I can't. I know the point I have to make, the point of why I pushed him away, and the reason why I can't let him hug me anymore. "You said it yourself—we can't get too close, or we'll fail. I couldn't let Harvey or Dalton see us that close—especially, not Dalton. I don't know how he might react, but I won't risk being fired for getting too close to you—my client. It's my job to do everything I can to help you succeed—no matter what."