Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
LOXLEY
Miles said fishing was supposed to be relaxing. He lied.
I was sitting in the middle of his bass boat, wearing an oversized life jacket that made me look like a marshmallow, and holding a fishing rod that felt like a medieval weapon.
The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and Miles looked like he belonged on the cover of an outdoor magazine with his baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses reflecting the calm lake water, and that stupidly perfect smirk on his face.
“Okay, Lox,” he said, crouching down beside me to adjust my grip on the fishing rod. “You just flick your wrist like this, and the line will go flying out into the water. Easy.”
“Easy for you. Last time I tried to cast, the worm flew off and hit that guy on the dock.”
Miles laughed, the kind of laugh that made my insides feel all squishy and warm. “He’ll live. Just try again.”
With a deep breath, I followed his instructions, flicking my wrist and sending the line soaring into the lake. Or so I thought. The hook caught on something behind me, jerking the rod backward.
“What the—”
“Hold on!” Miles lunged past me, untangling the line from the back of my life jacket. “You almost caught yourself, baby.”
“I’m a natural,” I deadpanned, my cheeks burning as he freed the line and reset it for me. He kissed the top of my head before stepping back to his spot near the motor.
“Alright, give it another go. And this time, maybe aim for the water instead of… yourself.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried again. Miraculously, the line arced out into the lake and landed with a satisfying plop. Miles let out a low whistle. “There you go! Now, we wait.”
“Wait for what?” I asked, propping the rod awkwardly against my knee.
“For a fish to bite,” he said, settling onto the bench beside me. His arm draped over my shoulders, pulling me close. “Patience is key in fishing.”
“Patience,” I muttered. “Got it.”
Five minutes in, I was already over it. The lake was quiet, the kind of quiet that made my thoughts get too loud. I shifted in my seat, tapping my fingers against the rod and glancing at Miles, who looked like he could do this all day.
“This is… nice,” I said, trying to sound convincing.
Miles turned to me with a knowing grin. “You’re bored out of your mind, aren’t you?”
“No,” I lied, my voice going up an octave. “This is great. So peaceful. Exactly what I was hoping for.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer. Despite the fact that fishing was clearly not for me, I did find a little satisfaction in sitting there with Miles. The sun was warm on my skin, the gentle rocking of the boat was oddly soothing, and having Miles’s arm around me made everything feel… right.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my shoulder.
“Me too,” I replied, tilting my head to look at him. His face was close, too close, and my breath hitched as he leaned in. The world seemed to pause as his lips brushed mine, the kiss slow and tender, making my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fishing.
Every ounce of me wanted to tell him it was time to go home. We had spent all night making love in every room of his house and it still didn’t feel like enough. I wanted more. It felt like I’d always want more.
I was just about to suggest we call it a day when the rod in my hands jerked, and Miles and I pulled back from one another to see what was happening.
“You’ve got a fish!” Miles shouted, springing into action. “Reel it in! Keep the line tight!”
Panic set in as I tried to remember what he’d taught me. I cranked the reel awkwardly, the rod bending alarmingly as the fish fought back. “It’s too strong!”
“You’ve got this,” Miles encouraged, hovering beside me. “Don’t let it win!”
“I’m trying!” I shouted, the reel slipping in my sweaty hands. The fish was putting up a fight, and I was losing.
“Keep the tip up!” Miles said, reaching out to steady the rod.
“The tip is up!” I yelled back, my arms shaking from the effort. “What is this thing, a shark?”
“It’s a bass,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh. “And it’s not that big.”
“How do you know?” It wasn’t like we could see what it was yet. For all we knew, it could have been Moby Dick himself.
“Because I know how much the rod and line can handle. If it were any bigger than twenty pounds, it’d have broken the line.”
Suddenly, the fish broke the surface, thrashing wildly as water sprayed everywhere. Just like Miles suggested, it wasn’t a shark, nor was it that large, but it was still fighting me as I tried to reel him in.
Miles lunged with the net as I got it closer, managing to scoop it just as the line snapped. Quickly, he took the hook out and then held it up triumphantly, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Got it!”
I collapsed onto the bench, panting. “That was… not relaxing.”
Miles laughed, holding the fish up in the net for me to see. “Say hello to your first catch, Lox.”
The fish stared at me with its dumb fish face, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hello, Gerald.”
“Gerald?” Miles repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“He looks like a Gerald,” I said matter-of-factly.
Miles shook his head, still smiling as he got closer. “Want to hold him?”
“I think the fuck not,” I panicked, holding up a hand to keep it a way. “You can let him go.”
“You don’t want to burn him?” Miles teased.
“I can’t look my fish in the eye and then have him for dinner.”
“Can you at least hold the net and let me get a picture of you? It's tradition to hold up the fish like a trophy.”
I grabbed the net, holding it as far away from my body as I could and trying not to gag as it flopped around. Seafood was my favorite, but I doubt I ever ate another fish and didn’t think about Gerald.
“Got it,” Miles snapped a picture with his phone, then slid it back into his pocket. He took the fish from my hands, gently taking it from the net and letting it go back into the lake.
“I think I may quit seafood,” I explained.
“This is lake-food,” he shrugged.
“Whatever,” I laughed, sitting back on the bench and taking a deep, relieved breath. “I need a new hobby.”
“What?” he laughed, sitting back down next to me. “Catching fish isn’t going to be your thing either?”
“I’m sorry, I tried.”
“I’m just glad I got to share something I love with you, Lox.”
“What’s something else you love? I can try that.”
“What’s something you think you may love?” He asked in return.
I pulled my knees up, wrapped my arms around them, and rested my chin on top as I thought about what he’d asked.
What do I even like to do? Music had always been my answer to everything. What do you love? Music. Who are you? Music. It wasn’t a lie. I loved it, but part of the reason I ran from the tour was because I’d forgotten how to just be without it.
I stared out at the water and let my mind wander. What else could I do? Painting? That would probably end in disaster. Sewing? I’d poke a hole in my finger, guaranteed. Hiking? Maybe, if I had the right outfit.
I glanced at Miles. He was stretched out beside me, arms crossed behind his head, looking so relaxed it was annoying. That lazy grin of his had been driving me crazy all day.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the quiet.
Miles turned his head toward me, raising an eyebrow. “Think of something?”
Before answering him, I leaned in and kissed him.
Kissing him could definitely be my new hobby.
I was good at it, loved the idea of it, and would be willing to practice just to get perfect at it.
Plus, the way his lips looked when I pulled back, all swollen and perfect, it was practically like I had painted a Picasso just by pressing my lips to his.
“I want to drink whiskey,” I finally said, watching as the effect my kiss had on him faded and he looked at me curiously.
“You want your new hobby to be getting drunk?”
“No,” I laughed, and swatted at him. “But I’ve never tried whiskey, yet everyone in country music, including me, has a song about it.”
“Okay,” he nodded, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “I guess we are gonna be drinking whiskey.”