In the following scene, Laynie is remembering a time back in college, while Gideon was dating her best friend, Priya, when he had come to her aid in her time of need in a super-swoon-worthy way. Read on to see how...
Excerpt: Off Limits
“Are you okay? You looked like you could use some help.” It was Gideon. He had seen her leaving the camp area and followed her.
She had begun to heave, and she tried to shoo him off. “I’m fine. Just …” she barfed, “…go. Please,” she had pleaded, and even she could hear the desperation in her voice.
But Gideon didn’t go. He had made his way over to her and pulled back her shoulder-length hair as she stood there hunched over. He had rubbed her back softly as she puked, over and over again. When she was done, he had handed her a bottle of water that she rinsed her mouth out with. Then, feeling exhausted from the hard labor her body had just endured from the violent heaving, she had sat down on the ground, letting the cool air brush over her and cool her heated skin.
“You didn’t have to follow me. I’m okay, really,” she’d said in a weak, shaky breath.
He’d grimaced and shaken his head, sitting down next to her and folding his long legs in front of him. “I couldn’t let you be out here alone. Somebody had to come and hold your hair back.”
She’d looked over at him and watched a genuine smile crawl across his lips. He was teasing her, in a good-natured kind of way, it seemed.
“I must look so stupid.” She had brushed her hair back from where the stray strands around her face had matted with sweat against her skin. “I wish you hadn’t seen me like this.”
He had just shrugged like it was no big deal. Then he reached back around her to rub his hand up and down her back again in soothing strokes. It had felt like such a caring gesture to her, and she hadn’t been surprised at all he’d offered his help. Had anyone else even noticed she’d left? But that was just how he was – genuine, like he actually gave a shit about people. Like he would literally give someone the shirt off his back or the last dollar in his wallet.
“I think I threw up on your shoes,” she had said, mortified, looking down at his feet, but at the same time reveling in how great it felt, him touching her like that.
He had stopped rubbing and looked down at where she was looking. Then he shrugged like it didn’t matter. “It’ll wash off.”