Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
MILES
After I murmured those few words to my parents, I nudged Lox’s knee and smiled.
She turned her head toward me, giving me an almost shy smile.
Her gaze lingered on mine for a moment before drifting back toward the oak tree.
We didn’t say anything else, just held on to the silence that neither of us wanted to break.
Shadows stretched across the lawn, swaying with the breeze. Lox leaned back on her hands and took a deep breath, as if trying to capture the moment and store it..
When we finished eating, we packed up our things. On the way back to the Jeep, Lox glanced over her shoulder one last time at the tree. The swing swayed gently and she smiled, nodding as if it had spoken to her.
She didn’t say much on the drive home. Instead, she sat curled into her seat, one knee pulled up and her cheek resting against it.
Her fingers tapped a rhythm on her thigh, so faint that I might not have noticed if I wasn’t glancing at her every chance I got.
Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, her expression soft and thoughtful.
The faintest smile played on her lips, and I could only imagine the melodies or words she was piecing together in her mind.
When we got back to the house, Lox slipped quietly into her room, leaving me alone with the fading light streaming through the windows.
I felt restless, and not quite ready to turn off the buzzing that had been making me feel so alive all day.
So I headed to the gym, deciding to force the energy from my body.
After my workout and a shower, I emerged from my room feeling hungry.
As I stepped into the hallway, I caught sight of Lox coming out of her room as well.
She paused when she saw me, her lips tugging into a small, knowing smile, and waited for me to catch up.
Without a word, she reached for my hand, her fingers cool against my hot skin, and led me to the kitchen.
She motioned for me to sit down at the small table, and I did, immediately noticing how different the house felt all of a sudden. With Lox there, it was no longer a lonely sanctuary but seemed to hold a hint of life that I had never noticed before.
I watched on as the warm glow from the under-cabinet lights lit up Lox’s movements as she began pulling things from the fridge. The clatter of a bowl on the counter and the rustle of lettuce filled the silence, along with the faint hum of a tune I couldn’t quite place.
When she finally placed the plates in front of us, she sat down across from me and smiled, her expression warm and unguarded. “I had to finish some lyrics that had come to me on the drive home,” she said, her voice soft but matter-of-fact.
I watched her as she picked up her fork, the way her fingers moved gracefully, like she was still playing that melody from earlier. Her eyes sparkled in the low light, and the glow of contentment on her face struck me in a way I couldn’t put into words.
She had said home. The word lingered in my mind, as soft and steady as her voice when she spoke. Not your home, not the house, but home. It had slipped out naturally, effortlessly, as though she’d belonged there.
I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t want to change anything about whatever comfort she’d found.
“I was wondering what had you running,” I teased.
“I wasn’t running,” she rolled her eyes.
“But you will,” I mumbled, half hoping she took it as a joke, but suddenly hating the truth in it. She was going to leave soon.
Lox never responded, but she heard me. I could see it in the way her fingers tensed slightly against the table.
Denying it would be pointless. Wishing it weren’t true would be even more pointless.
She had a life waiting for her, and as much as I had come to care for her in just a week, I knew the life she was returning to was bigger than anything I could offer her in Harmony Haven.
Still, the thought of her leaving twisted something in my chest. What kind of power did Loxley Adams hold over me that had me thinking in months and years instead of days and weeks?
“Your mom loved Sammi Smith?” she asked suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.
I blinked, adjusting to the shift. “Yeah,” I nodded simply.
“My mom used to say she was the most underrated female country singer of all time. Not sure how true that is, but she loved her too. I listen to her music when I get homesick.”
My fork hovered over my plate before I set it down.
Something about the way she said it, the quiet nostalgia in her voice, made me want to do something more for her.
Reaching across the table, I took Lox’s hand, intertwining our fingers.
She glanced up, questioning, but didn’t pull away as I stood, guiding her with me into the living room.
“Stay here,” I instructed, pointing at her playfully.
She smirked but obeyed, shifting her weight in her flannel pants and t-shirt, her hair twisted high on her head. Barefoot, just like me. Nothing fancy about us, and yet, the moment felt special.
I moved to the cabinet near the TV, pulling out one of my mom and dad’s old records. The vinyl slid into place on the turntable, and I dropped the needle onto the final track.
As the soft crackle gave way to music, I turned back to her, holding out my hand. “Dance with me?”
A slow smile spread across her lips. “I love this song.”
I pulled her into my arms, and we swayed while Sammi Smith’s voice wrapped around us as she sang, Help Me Make It Through the Night. The song was so perfect, because we were two lonely people, caught between want and reason. So close to not caring what was right or wrong.
Holding her, leading her in that slow rhythm, I realized I couldn’t stop myself from falling for her. Even knowing it was temporary, even knowing it would end, I was helpless against it.
“Lox?” I whispered, hoping she’d look up, hoping she’d see in my eyes what I couldn’t bring myself to say. But her gaze was glossy, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. I cupped her face, my thumb brushing the dampness away. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered with a sad smile. “I just feel… so many things at once.”
“Me too,” I admitted. “And I know I’m making it worse, every second we stay like this.”
“But I don’t want to move.”
“Then don’t.” I pulled her closer, tightening my hold as the song faded. The music stopped, but we didn’t. We stood there in silence, still swaying, still wrapped up in whatever this was.
“Miles?” Lox whispered against my chest.
“Yeah?” My throat felt tight.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
I stilled. For a moment, I wasn’t sure I had heard her right. It was the most direct either of us had been since whatever this was had started. I wanted to be just as direct in return.
“I don’t know yet.”
She nodded, as if she understood completely. “I know exactly how you feel.”
Did she? Was she as tangled up as I was? Overthinking it as much as I was?
Any other woman, and I would have acted on instinct. I would have kissed her without hesitation. But Lox wasn’t just any woman. Not because she was Loxley Adams. But because of how dangerous it all felt.
Our time together had been short, but it had pushed us together in a way that felt like a dream. Too fast. Too intense. And if I kissed her, if I crossed that line, would she pull away? Would my home place stop feeling like the safe haven she needed it to be?
She kissed my cheek instead, pulling back with a knowing smile, her eyes still an unreadable mix of emotions. Before I could react, she turned and disappeared into her room, shutting the door behind her.
I exhaled sharply, staring at the closed door. I paced the hall, passing her room over and over, contemplating knocking. Even an hour later, knowing she was probably asleep, I was still tempted to stand there, willing her to open the door and make the choice for me.
Then I remembered her tears, her indecision. If she really did know exactly how I felt, then why would I want her to feel that way?
Decision made, I was kissing her. Just once, before I forced myself to go to bed.
Raising my hand to knock on her door, I didn’t even make contact before I heard a loud scream coming from the other side. Without thinking, I shoved at the door, pushing it open, heart pounding, unsure of what I was about to face. I just knew she needed me, and I was right where I should have been.