Chapter 30
“Where have you guys been?” Zoey asks.
Miles and I have just gotten back to The Bexley, and the courtyard is buzzing. All of my people (except Minnie) are here,
and when they see us, they all stop what they’re doing.
Lennon’s eyes are wide, hopeful, and she looks a little smug. Definitely reading into the fact that I spent the whole afternoon
with Miles. Maybe also reading into the fact that he was the one who got me off the bathroom floor.
“We, uh—” I glance over at Miles.
“We had a few things to take care of,” he says.
“Okay, well, we got hungry, so we’re grilling out,” Ava says. “Everyone brought something, and it’s almost ready.”
I look around at this hodgepodge of people. One of our quieter neighbors, a young investment banker named Tim, is here, along
with the crew from the farmers’ market.
Lorraine bustles out of her house carrying a platter of meat, and Daniel is at the grill, ready, complete with a black apron
with white letters reading: THIS IS A MANLY APRON FOR A MANLY MAN, DOING MANLY THINGS, WHILE COOKING MANLY FOOD.
There’s a picnic table covered with trays and bowls of food, and standing next to it is Duffy.
Duffy? What is he doing here?
He lifts a hand in a polite wave, eyes drifting over to Miles, and I’m sure he’s drawing a conclusion about what he’s seeing.
There’s a gnawing in my belly that tells me I need to make this right.
When Miles sees him standing there, he walks off toward the grill, pats a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and picks up a spatula.
“We came up with a brilliant idea,” Zoey says before I can move. “We’ve all been brainstorming since we left the market.”
“You have?”
“Heck yes,” Ava says. “We’re invested now.”
Lennon hands me a glass of lemonade. “You have a lot of people in your corner.” She squeezes my arm. “And we all want to help.”
The words zip straight to my heart.
These are my people.
The gravity of that hits me—hard. Because nobody has ever shown up for me like this. Not even the people who should’ve. Not
in a million years.
“We’ll talk about it after we eat,” Ava says with a smile. “But we think you’re going to love it.”
“We hope you’re going to love it,” Zoey adds.
“She will,” Lorraine says. “It’s a brilliant plan.”
I’m curious what they’re going to propose, but I’m also hungry and exhausted, so I let it go for now and make my way over
to Duffy, anxious to do the right thing where he’s concerned.
He’s a good person, and if today has taught me anything, it’s that Lennon was right—holding on to him while I try to sort
out my feelings for someone else really isn’t fair.
And as much as I wish I didn’t have feelings to sort, I do. That may mean I have to put some distance between me and Miles—or
close the distance, which terrifies me—but regardless, there’s no room for Duffy in my romantic life.
And it would be so cliché to ask him if we can be friends, even though I really hope we can.
I walk over to him. He doesn’t know anyone here besides the online version of Lorraine, and I’m filled with a strange mix
of gratitude and dread. I really don’t want to hurt this man.
“Hey,” I say.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I heard about what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there today.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” I say. “It was really good . . . and then it really wasn’t.”
“I, uh . . .” He glances over at Miles, then back at me. “I had a date.”
I can’t see my face, but I’m pretty sure it’s showing my surprise. “Oh!”
“I know you and I are not exclusive, but I still wanted to be straight with you about it.” He’s nodding as he says this, and
then I realize that Duffy is trying to work up the courage to let me down easy.
A flood of relief washes over me. “That’s so great, Duffy,” I say. “Did you have a nice time?”
He seems to be trying not to smile, but he’s failing. Finally, he gushes, “A really nice time!”
“I’m so glad.” And I really am.
“Actually, you met her—Sonya? She was White Diamond from Steven Universe?”
I frown.
“The woman in the book signing line—the one in all white.”
“Oh, right!” I say, remembering. “She was beautiful!”
“We connected later on a message board,” he says. “And realized we’d met that day.” He grimaces. “I wasn’t sure how you’d
feel about it.”
I cross my arms over my chest and smile up at him. “I feel pretty awesome about it actually, because it looks like you’re
really happy.”
The smile is back. “I am.”
“Good.”
His eyes dart over to the grill, where I know Miles is standing. “What about you?” He brings his attention back to me. “Are
you and your neighbor . . . ?”
I shake my head. “Oh no, we’re just friends.”
Duffy’s grin turns goofy. “Ohhkay.”
I shove his arm, and we seem to settle into a playful sort of platonic friendship. “We are.”
He leans forward. “Then why does he keep looking over here?”
I glance over my shoulder, and when my eyes meet Miles’s, he smiles but quickly looks away. A flutter of hope fills my rib
cage.
But then I remember his perfectly understandable and valid reasons for not wanting a relationship ever again. His very brutal
divorce and all the hurt his ex-wife caused have irrevocably broken him. I understand that more than ever now.
And I can’t even blame him. I get it. More than most.
Strangely, though, I’m willing to try again. To open up again.
If someone asked me about that possibility even three weeks ago, I would’ve said no way.
But I am.
And Miles isn’t. I want to respect that, but a flurry of words rushes back at me. His speech in the park . . . it was all
about getting kicked and not staying down. About getting back in the fight after a loss.
Miles isn’t following his own advice. When it comes to relationships, he’s taken himself out of the game completely. Sidelined
himself with an injured heart.
Well, well, well. Pot, meet Kettle.
I sit with the revelation for a few heavy seconds, then Duffy says my name.
“What?” I blink a few times, hoping to reenter this conversation.
“I said, is it better if I go?” he says. “These are your friends, not mine.”
I look around, choosing to tuck away my thoughts about Miles, at least for now, and I squeeze Duffy’s arm. “You are one of my friends too.”
He grins. “You mean it?”
“Of course.” I smile at him.
“Good,” he says enthusiastically. “Because I’m starving.”
“Okay, it’s ready!” Daniel says over the chatter. “Come eat.”
We all move toward the table, piling plates with food, and I remember I have a sheet cake that I made sitting on the counter
in my kitchen. “I’ll be right back.” I can’t be the only one who shows up empty-handed to this impromptu gathering, especially
when I’m the reason for it.
Though everyone will probably be terrified to eat anything I baked.
I’m standing in my kitchen, cutting the cake into squares, when I hear movement in my living room. I turn and see Miles standing
there, backlit by the dim light outside.
I gasp. “You scared me.”
“Sorry, I tried to be loud when I came over.” He takes a few steps toward me, and I can see a pensive look on his face.
I set the knife down and turn to face him. “You okay?”
He looks at me, frozen. “I don’t want you to be with the dentist.”
I go still. “You don’t?”
He shakes his head.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s wrong for you,” Miles says.
I frown. “How do you know that? You don’t even know him.”
“But I know you,” he says. “Or I think I do.”
At that, I smile. Right now, he might be the one person who knows me the best. I’ve told him things I haven’t told anyone
else.
He inhales a deep breath and says, “I know I’ve given you a lot of mixed signals.”
I scoff. “You think?”
He pushes a hand through his hair, visible angst on his face. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
I wait, hoping he’ll go on. Hoping he’s about to tell me that he’s ready to try a relationship. That he wants to. Because of me.
But he goes silent.
“Duffy is seeing someone else,” I say.
Miles’s face brightens, and he looks almost happy. “He is? What about—”
I shrug. “He’s really nice, and kind, but we’re not a good fit.”
He nods but still doesn’t say anything.
He looks like he wants to—but he just doesn’t.
I narrow my eyes, then move toward him, wanting, for once, to be bold—to say what I need to say. “You know, I was thinking
about the park. About what you said.”
He shifts his weight.
“You were so inspiring, and I’m guessing it wasn’t easy to tell me the things you told me.”
He makes a face. “Yeah, it’s not my favorite topic.”
“You were hurt. Like I was. But the way you’ve picked up the pieces of your life and moved forward? It made me want to try
to do the same.”
He doesn’t move.
“But that was about your job,” I say. “Not your heart.”
He looks right in my eyes.
“I realized that you’re just as scared as I am.” I pause. “You’re too afraid to really put yourself out there because what
if you have to feel that pain again? You want to talk about mixed signals? You kiss me, then agree it can’t happen again.
You punch a guy for insulting me and tell me you want it to be your job to protect me, but then you say you don’t do relationships
and that we need to just be friends.”
I sigh. “And now you say you don’t want me to be with Duffy . . .” I pause for a beat. “But we both know that’s not the same
as saying you want to be with me.”
His face falls. He starts to say something but stops.
I reach up and touch his face, and he turns into my hand for a fraction of a second, then his gaze falls as he inches just a little closer.
“Miles, what do you want?” My voice is low, our faces so close that if I moved an inch, we’d be kissing.
But neither of us moves.
And he doesn’t say a word.
We’re held in place by a current of electricity that’s buzzing and about to snap.
Finally, after a long, tense—and silent—moment, I smile, softly nod, and walk back into the courtyard, leaving him standing
in the darkness of my apartment.