Milo fell on Otis. He got up, offered his hand to help him up, and said, "Sorry . . . I scared you a bit . . ."
And yet-Otis had been screaming before Milo EVER bumped into him-and he wasn't even looking in Milo's direction. But the idea that Milo had startled him made much more sense than the alternative-after all, what reason would he have had to get scared like that?
Otis didn't take his hand. He was shaking like a leaf, eyes wide, struggling to speak
"N-N-Nm-"
"A-Alright...thank you..."
He took a sip of his tea. Now that the excitement had passed, Milo could place Otis's scent-what with his heightened sense of his smell-and it was overwhelming. He smelled like freshly fallen snow and warm baked cookies and peppermint and somehow exactly what he imagined love must smell if love had a scent-he must taste even better...