My swallow is audible. “Why?”
“I haven’t the first clue.”
“Okay, well thanks for clearing that up.”
The corner of his mouth turns up and, damn, does he give good grin. “I don’t know. Maybe I was worried about you.”
I need to get my act together. There’s an advance to ask for and more tips to be earned. “Well, I’m fine.”
“Yeah, tell your luggage that.” And there goes that chin toss again. Good God, it’s like he’s been watching YouTube tutorials on how to use body language to get into girls’ pants.
“I was experiencing a moment of frustration.” I go for light and breezy.
And then he drops a lead weight on it. “I didn’t like the idea of not knowing where you were.”
I let that settle for a minute. It decides to settle in my panties. Dammit! I can’t do this right now. I can’t do this ever!
“I hate to point out the obvious, but you haven’t known where I was for a single day of the last decade, and I’ve gotten along fine. Thanks for the concern, though.” Not that it isn’t nice having someone care whether you’re dead or not, but coming from him, it’s way too complicated.
He scratches the back of his neck and shakes his head like he’s trying to work it out as well. “I know. It doesn’t make sense, but I don’t like it.”
Did he just double down on his two-ton, panty-incinerating proclamation?
I decide to return to breezy and motion in the direction we came from. “Well, now you know where I am, so you can put your mind at ease and go to work or whatever you’re doing today.” But when I move to go past him, he steps in to further block me.
“Where are you staying? Please say you’re not going back to the Misty.”
“I’m not going back to the Misty.”
His eyes bore holes through me. “Are you just saying that, or is it true?”
“Why do you think I have all my shit with me? I just haven’t checked in anywhere yet.” I skirt around the truth. If he’d just leave, I could ask Camille about the tip money and the advance. “But I will. I don’t want to be rude but…” My words trail off, because since when have I not wanted to be rude to Milo? It makes me smile despite myself and despite our uncomfortably intimate proximity.
He coughs out a laugh, clearly thinking the same thing. “Since when?” Gah! I can see the multicolor swirls in his irises again, and they’re on the move.
“All right, funny guy. I need to get to work.” And I need to get away from him before I become the naughty von Trapp child who introduces teen pregnancy to the franchise. I motion to the door, and this time he steps aside. My arm brushes his leg when I pass, and I swear he stiffens. Well, maybe that’s a poor choice of words, but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one affected. I need to screw my head on straight. “Bye.” I don’t dare look behind me as I wonder like I’ve done before if this will be the last time we say goodbye. And for the first time since he popped back into my life, I don’t want it to be.
Chapter Thirteen
MILO
Twelve Years Earlier
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” The girl I now know as Jill asks from her spot on the cool sand beside me.
I shake my head and toss a shell in the water, trying to follow its path in the moonlight. “Naw. No big deal.”
“Okay, now repeat it back to me so we can make sure it doesn’t get messed up.” She’s got her hair tucked behind her ears and her knees pulled up to her chest.
“You mean so you can make sure I don’t mess it up.”
“Whatever, bad-ass.” Her smile is almost a physical punch it’s so stunning.
I don’t know why I said that stupid thing about my name meaning “bad-ass guy” except that my dad said it one night when he was lit on vodka. And for some reason, I wanted to impress this girl. I don’t think it worked.
I clear my throat. “Fine. When the production assistant calls, I say you’re out and you’ll call back. Then I call your sister’s phone, ask for you, and tell you to call.”
She gives my good arm a playful swat. “You forgot the part about telling them I’m out running because I take fitness seriously. I heard running on the sand makes your butt perkier, and I can’t afford to have a flat butt.”
“I’m not saying that.” I grin at her. It’s impossible not to. But I manage to keep from telling her I already saw her butt and it’s more than perfect the way it is.
“Ugh. Fine.” She does a shit job pretending to be mad before dropping the pretense. “Thank you so much, Milo. You’re saving my ass.” I like the way my name sounds coming from her lips. But this is a bad idea.
“I already said it’s no big deal. Everybody does stuff they don’t want their parents to know about.”
“I usually tell my mom and sister everything.” She sighs and rests her cheek on her knees while she considers me. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Uh, I guess.”
Her smile is back, and I’m ridiculously pleased to be the one who put it there. “What does that mean?”
I weigh how much to tell her. “Well, I have an older half-sister, but we don’t get along very well.”
“That sucks.”
“Believe me, it’s better for us to keep our distance.” I throw another shell and think about my last encounter with Sherry. She and Felicity came to see me in the hospital and brought Sherry’s new boyfriend. Some douchebag named Ricky. The guy asked her for money for the vending machine and didn’t even see if she or Felicity wanted anything. Fucking barnacle. She and I got into it when I asked if he was living with them.
“Well, maybe that will change someday.” Jill says it like she really wants that for me. The asshole part of me wants to tell her that not all families are perfect like hers, but a bigger part of me wants her to keep her naïve side.
“Maybe. She has a daughter.”
When her worry lines disappear, I know I made the right choice. “You have a niece? I’m so jealous.”
“Technically, I think I have about a dozen, but I only know Felicity.”
“What? How?”
“My dad’s been married five times, so I have a bunch of step-siblings I’ve only met a few times.”
Her eyes go wide. “Five times? Sounds like a soap opera.”
“I guess.”
She peers out at the dark water and then back at me. The breeze picks her hair up. “Can I ask you a question?”
It’s not like I didn’t know this was coming. I just don’t relish the idea of sharing my idiocy with a pretty girl who seems to have forgotten I was an asshole to her. “I was in an accident.”
Her brow furrows, and I assume she’s preparing some follow-up questions. “What? I mean. No. I didn’t mean…” She shakes her head. “I was going to ask why you’re being nice to me.”
Her words register, bringing relief with them. I could ask her the same thing. “I don’t know.” I shrug. But I kind of do know. It’s partly because I was such a dick before and partly because she’s pretty as hell and, as much as I’d like to be immune, I’m not. “Anyway, all I’m doing is answering the phone a couple times. You don’t have to get all mushy on me.”