Chapter 25
Miles
Ican still catch a flight later today, if needed.
I stare down at the drafted text message on my phone and wish I could erase the sick feeling settling in my gut at the sight of it. My thumb hovers over the send button, but I don’t click it.
“You’re going to break that thing in half if you’re not careful,” Georgia’s voice comes out of nowhere.
I wince at my white knuckles and force myself to loosen my grip on the screen, turning to her. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing if I broke it.” I eye her as she steps up beside me. It’s been twenty-four hours since she overheard me planning to return to New York.
And don’t get me wrong, I almost jetted off last night. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
She leans against the railing, hugging her sweater tighter around herself. I take in the way her blonde hair drifts in the breeze, and the way she looks so fucking irresistible.
“You’re up early,” she says, gesturing to the sunrise.
“That’s because I never really went to bed.” I force the truth out but then follow with a partial truth. “Casework shit ever ends.”
She studies me, blue eyes sharpening. “You didn’t have to make up excuses, you know. If you’d rather be somewhere else, just… say so.”
I blink, caught off guard. “That’s not—”
“You’re allowed to leave,” she says, but her voice falters. “If you want to. It’s not like anyone’s going to hold you down.” She lets out a bitter laugh and I can see the hurt etched into her forced smile.
But still, I can’t tell if she wants me to argue or if she’s giving me an out. The silence stretches, the only sound the low slosh of water against the hull.
I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head. “That’s the problem,” I sigh, voice scraping the inside of my throat. “I don’t want to go… but I’m not exactly a pro at this.”
She nods, her lips pressed into a line. “I see…”
I look away, and as I zone out looking at the water, the truth comes bubbling up to the surface.
“I’ve always been good at controlling things.
Work, school, my personal schedule.” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly conscious of the bedhead I haven’t bothered to fix.
“If something starts to hurt, I file it away. Tidy it up. Fix it or walk away. I’m not big on taking risks I haven’t thoroughly assessed first.”
Georgia doesn’t miss a beat. “Is that what you’re doing with us?” she asks, biting down on her thumbnail. “Filing me away? Because it got too risky?”
“I might’ve been trying to,” I admit. “But I can’t.
I’ve never been this out of control in my life.
This is… this is just crazy, what we’re doing.
” And I mean that, it is fucking crazy. It sounds so perfect when you’re trapped on a boat, but when Robert and Catherine came blazing in, the reality of it kind of knocked me upside the head.
Georgia runs a hand along the rail and catches my gaze, holding it. “Why does it scare you so much?”
I want to answer with something clever, something self-deprecating—something funny like Emmett. But it sticks in my throat and comes out sideways, the sad truth slipping out without hesitation. “The last time I let my guard down, someone died.”
Georgia takes a small step closer with widened eyes, her proximity close enough to make my chest constrict.
“It’s complicated,” I say, but then I don’t follow continue.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she replies, shrugging. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to know.”
I nod, hesitate, but then take the risk.
“Way too many years ago,” I begin, forcing myself not to break eye contact, “I was a sophomore at Harvard. I met a girl named Claire at the freshman orientation dance. She was wild—black hair, leather jacket, zero patience for bullshit.” I try to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.
“We snuck out the fire escape and split a bottle of shitty Merlot behind the quad. She kissed me first. That was her way with everything. First, and all in. She was the first woman I ever fell for.”
Georgia’s entire expression softens, and she nods.
I continue. “Spring break, we took my dad’s new Lexus and drove north.
It rained the whole way, and we were switching turns driving.
In the last leg of the trip, she was mad at me, but I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.
I just remember her hands on the wheel, shouting at me to shut up and just listen to her for once.
And then there was a curve, and the tires, and…
” My voice falters, vision blurring for a second as my mind returns to that night.
“I woke up with a broken collarbone. She didn’t wake up at all. ”
A gull shrieks somewhere down the dock, a high, ugly sound that pulls me back.
“She was gone before the ambulance got there,” I finish, my voice in the same tone as when I’m in the middle of court.
“After that whole thing, I got really good at avoiding risk. At keeping everyone at arm’s length.
Made a whole career out of it. I defend people who take risks, but I almost never take my own. ”
Georgia closes the distance, then her shoulder brushes my bicep. “Oh my god, Miles.”
“I’m sorry,” I shake my head, “for being a coward about all this.”
She slips her hand over mine, squeezing lightly. “You’re not a coward,” she whispers. “You’re just like all the rest of us… scared.”
I squeeze her hand back, letting the words hang in the air, feeling something in my chest loosen ever so slightly. “You’re too sweet for your own good, Georgia.”
She pokes my arm. “Sometimes.”
Before I can say anything more to convince her, we hear footsteps behind us, and Emmett emerges.
“I’m interrupting as usual,” he says, then gestures vaguely at me. “Or saving you maybe. You have the look of someone who was hit by a train and somehow survived.”
I look at him, then at Georgia, then back to the water. “I’m fine,” I say. “We were just talking. I was telling her about the accident.”
Emmett nods and places his hand on my shoulder. “Oh.” He knows the story and then turns to Georgia. “How are you feeling, baby?”
She nods. “Doing okay.” Her gaze drifts back up to mine. “I feel like I understand a lot better now.”
Emmett settles on the opposite bench, legs spread wide, eyes flicking between us. “You want to hear something funny?” he sighs, his tone the opposite of humorous. “I did almost take the Iceland job.”
Georgia glances at him, furrowing her brow. “You said you didn’t.”
He shrugs, looks down at his bare feet. “Yeah, well, that was a little white lie. I sure as hell considered it last night.” He sips his coffee, then sighs.
“The real truth is, I always run. When things get tricky or feelings start to get real, I book a flight. Different city, different bed. It’s a game I started early in my career and never really quit.
Until now.” He smiles. “So, congrats to both of you—looks like I’m not the only broken one on board. We’re all a little fucked up.”
I snort, a sound that’s half laugh, half choke. “Is that supposed to make us feel better? Declaring that we’re all screwed in the head?”
“No,” Emmett retorts. “Just less alone, I guess.”
The hatch thuds behind us, and Brody appears, hair still damp from the shower, wearing navy shorts and a faded gray T-shirt. He gives Georgia’s shoulder a squeeze, nods to Emmett, then meets my eyes and holds them.
“Morning,” he says, and it feels like he’s about to start interrogating me.
“We’re having a pity party out here,” Emmett speaks up before I do. “Miles told Georgia about Claire, I told her about how I always run, and clearly, Georgia has some daddy issues right now.”
“That’s not even funny,” I snap at Emmett, who just shoots Georgia a wink that makes her giggle.
I don’t know how he always fucking manages to do that.
Brody huffs and then plops down beside Emmett. “You know what the worst thing Catherine ever said to me was?”
Emmett cocks an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”
Brody’s jaw clenches, and then he takes a sip of coffee.
“Well, she told me I was dead inside.” He rests the cup in his lap.
“She said that I’d never be capable of actual intimacy.
That no matter how hard I tried, I’d always be alone because I didn’t know how to let anyone in.
” He shrugs at the end of it, his gaze focused down on his coffee instead of us.
Georgia lets out a breath. “You know that’s not true, Brody.”
Brody lifts his eyes, meeting hers. “Maybe, but I believed her,” he pauses. “I still do some days.”
I purse my lips. I think about the old Brody, the one that was married to Catherine, the one who got into a lot of fights, stirred up a lot of trouble, and was constantly guarded.
He’s not that guy anymore.
Georgia speaks up. “I think we’re all doing the same thing, if you think about it. We’re all just running. Different directions, maybe, but always running from our fears and pain. This wouldn’t make sense if we were all perfect.”
She looks at me, then Emmett, then Brody, and the clarity in her gaze makes my stomach twist. “I try to keep everyone happy, so I never have to feel alone. Miles tries to control everything so nothing hurts. Emmett runs before anyone can leave him. And Brody…” She hesitates, then smiles.
“Brody builds walls so high no one can get through.”
No one argues. Emmett just looks away, jaw tight. Brody stares at his hands. I feel so fucking exposed, but also… better.
“I don’t want to go,” I say finally, surprised at the steadiness of my voice. “And I don’t really know what the risk of staying is, but I’ll take it.” I reach out to Georgia and pull her in against me.
Emmett leans forward, elbows on knees. “I’m scared of caring too much,” he says, not quite meeting Georgia’s eyes. “It’s easier to just be the fun one, the flake. Less chance of getting fucking obliterated, you know? But I’ll stick it out.”
Brody nods, an almost imperceptible movement. “I’m afraid of failing all of you,” he says. “That I’ll wake up one day and realize Catherine was right. But I’ll keep fighting my inner battles.”
Georgia squeezes my hand, then reaches for Emmett’s, her fingers lacing through his. She shifts, leaning against Brody’s thigh, anchoring all four of us together.
“So we’re all scared,” she says. “But at least we’re scared together.”
“Yep, and that’s how we’re going to stay,” I say, leaning in to kiss the top of Georgia’s head.
Emmett snorts. “Scared?”
“Shut up,” I say. “You know exactly what I meant. The together part. We’ll figure the rest of it out.”
“Eventually,” Georgia sighs, brushing her hair out of her face.
I sure as hell hope so.