17. Jenna
JENNA
I don’t know how I got this drunk. I mean the alcohol, obviously.
The sandwich I ate with Miles did nothing to soak up the beer sloshing around my stomach.
Now Joy is talking to some guy she met; Leo is off doing who knows what.
Last I saw, he was inserting himself into a bachelorette party.
I’m sitting alone on a wobbly stool at our high top, feeling a little woozy when Miles places a glass of water in front of me.
“Drink this,” he says, lips pressing into a tight smile.
I narrow my eyes but a teasing smile tugs at my mouth. “What did you put in it?”
“It’s water, Jenna,” Miles says curtly. He doesn’t have the patience for me tonight. That became apparent as soon as I started flirting with him at the food truck.
I don’t know what comes over me when I’m in his presence.
Logically, it makes zero sense for me to get involved with him.
There just seems to be a magnetic force always pulling me toward him.
I can forget about it if I’m not near him, but if I’m in the same room as him?
There is no forgetting. I want him. I don't want to want him, but I do. Even if it’s just for one night.
Which would be a whole different kind of mistake, I’m sure.
It’s got to be the alcohol heightening my awareness of him.
He’s standing so close to me, watching to make sure I drink the water.
Sober me would find his watchful eye annoying but buzzed me thinks it’s sweet.
I sip the water and smile up at him. Miles has never looked broody before.
Normally, he’s happy-go-lucky. Now he just looks royally pissed. It’s so hot.
“How are you getting home?” he asks. Before I can answer, he adds, “You’re not driving.”
“I’ll Uber or something and get my car tomorrow,” I say, blowing bubbles in my water glass through the straw. It shoots up my nose and I cackle.
Miles isn’t amused. “I’ll take you home. Let’s go.” He starts to put on his jacket.
I frown at him. “Why do you get to say when it’s time to leave? I’m having fun.” The truth is, I stopped having fun about an hour ago when Joy ditched me for a guy with neck tattoos. I also wouldn’t mind a car ride with Miles, but I don’t want him to know that.
“Well, I’m ready to go, and your two friends left you, so what’s it going to be?” Miles lifts a brow, already turning toward the door. He doesn’t wait for me; he starts walking toward the door.
“You’re so bossy,” I say, wrinkling my nose. I hop off the stool and gather my things quickly, following him out. “Would it kill you to wait for me?” I call through the crowd. A few people around us glance my way.
He turns and gives me a devilish smirk over his shoulder. “You move too slow.”
Miles waits on the sidewalk as I step through the door out into the cool air.
I’m never going to get used to the ten-degree difference of a seashore town.
I shiver, and Miles notices—but for the first time since I’ve known him, doesn’t say anything about it.
I expect him to open my car door, but instead, he goes right around to the driver’s side.
“It’s unlocked,” he says flatly. Not that I wanted him to open my door or anything, but he’s really turned the cold shoulder to me.
Miles is quiet as he drives to my house.
I want so desperately to talk to him. I have to find a way to tell him how I feel.
I don’t exactly know how that is yet, but I do know I want to be near him.
It feels too strange not to be. After we ate our sandwiches, he mostly avoided me. I know I don’t want that.
“Miles,” I say quietly. He doesn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on the road. “Miles,” I say more firmly, prompting him to give me a sideways glance before turning back to the road. “What did I do wrong?” I whisper. “You’re freezing me out.”
Miles sighs, scratching his chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jenna,” he says exasperated.
“Clearly, I did.” I roll my eyes.
Miles pulls off the dark, wooded road and onto the shoulder, a flicker of unease tightens in my chest. He turns to face me. “Jenna. You didn’t do anything wrong. I am just dealing with some personal stuff, okay?” He licks his lips and looks down at the gear shift.
“I feel like it’s me, though,” I say quietly, shifting my body toward his.
Miles shrugs and turns his eyes back to mine. “Maybe it’s you a little bit,” he admits.
Suddenly, I’m sober. I knew I wasn’t imagining his cold shoulder. It never crossed my mind that my flirting might actually be hurting him. “Then talk to me about it, please.”
“I just can’t take the hot and cold with you, Jenna.
I told you I like you, but I’m trying to be careful.
One minute, you’re freezing me out, making it seem like it’s the last time you’re going to see me.
The next, you’re putting your hand in my back pocket.
” He drags his palm down his face. “It’s really confusing. ”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, suddenly embarrassed by my behavior. Miles has been nothing but kind to me. He doesn’t deserve this roller coaster I’ve put him on. I sigh. “I guess I am wrestling with the idea of starting something with you when I’m not planning on staying. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Miles lets out a dry laugh. “Hurt me? I’m worried about hurting you.”
I crack a smile. “So, we’re both looking out for the other.” I bite my lower lip, hoping it will entice him.
“I guess so,” he rasps, looking me in the eye. My stomach flutters, and I don’t look away.
“So, now what?” I ask, not bothering to hide the hope in my voice.
Miles sighs. “Now, I take you home. And maybe we try to stay in the present moment and not worry too much about what comes next.” He shifts the car back onto the road.
“Okay. I can do that.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m glad we had that talk,” I say, resting my head on the seat. “And even more glad you didn’t drag me into the woods and murder me.” I giggle.
For the first time tonight, Miles smirks at me. “Yet. I didn’t murder you yet .” He winks, and his smile turns genuine.
I’m devastated when he pulls up in front of my house.
“Okay, this is your stop.” He looks at me, his eyes suddenly tender, like he doesn’t want me to go.
“Miles,” I murmur.
“Yeah?” He asks, his voice quiet but earnest.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I sound desperate, and I don’t mean how it comes out, but suddenly I really don’t want to go in there alone. “It’s just… really lonely in there.” I cast my eyes downward, not daring to see him tell me no.
Miles exhales. “Tell you what? How about I stay until you fall asleep? I can’t leave Pete alone.”
I nod. For tonight, that would have to be enough.
The last thing I remember before falling asleep is Miles sitting at the end of my childhood bed, whispering that he’d call me tomorrow. How is it, then, that the smell of brewing coffee wakes me up on Sunday morning? I glance at my phone on the bedside table: ten fifteen a.m.
I lurch out of bed, irrationally suspecting an intruder.
Sometime during the night, I kicked off my pajama pants.
I throw them on and jog down the steps, the scent of coffee and breakfast growing stronger the closer I get.
Then I’m in the doorway, finding Miles standing in my ancient kitchen, scrambling eggs.
Pete is at his feet, waiting for something to fall.
There’s a coffee pot on my counter that wasn’t there before.
I clear my throat, and Miles spins around, a you-caught-me grin on his face. “Good morning,” he says jovially, a stark contrast from last night’s demeanor.
Pete runs over to me and sits at my feet, pushing his face into my legs so I’ll pet him.
“Uh…hi,” I say, with a curious quirk of my eyebrow. I ruffle Pete’s ear.
“There’s coffee.” Miles gestures to the new coffee pot. The open box sits on the kitchen table. He remembered I didn’t have a working coffee pot, and he got me one. My heartbeat flutters.
“Thank you…” I walk over and reach for a mug in the upper cabinet, then go to the sink to rinse the dust out of it. I pour myself a cup of what smells like pumpkin flavored coffee, then whirl around to face him. He’s stirring the eggs, whistling. “Miles.”
He turns, as if he knows exactly what I’m going to say. His eyes have a mischievous twinkle. Caught .
“What are you doing here?” I furrow my brow. “I thought you went home last night.”
Miles walks over to the fridge and takes out a carton of half-and-half, passing it to me. “Oh, I did,” he assures me, shaking his head vigorously.
“Okay…” That doesn’t answer my question. “So, why are you here now?”
Miles shrugs. “Pete and I are early risers. I remembered you don’t have a coffee pot, so we drove up the parkway and bought you one from Target. You weren’t awake when we got back, so…” He holds up his hands as if to say, here I am.
I pour some half-and-half in my mug and sit down at the table. Shaking my head in confusion, I look at him. “So…you just let yourself in?”
Miles scrunches up his face and scratches the back of his head.
“Okay, yeah, maybe that wasn’t my wisest idea.
I could have left it on your porch. But I wanted you to have some right away when you woke up.
” He starts dishing the eggs onto some plates as toast pops out of my parents' ancient toaster.
My heart swells. Miles woke up thinking about me, and we haven’t even hooked up. What on earth is going on here? “If it were anyone else, I’d be calling the police,” I say, with a sigh because I already know I can’t be mad at him.
Miles places a plate in front of me and sits down next to me. “I know. But, you should know—it was all Pete’s idea.” He glances at the dog, sitting like a patient boy, hoping for some scraps.
I laugh. “Well, Pete’s heart was in the right place. I guess I can forgive him.” I pat Pete’s head and take a bite of my breakfast. For the next two minutes, Miles and I eat in silence, smiling at each other like lovestruck teenagers, neither of us knowing what to say next.
Finally, Miles clears his throat and reaches for my free hand. “Jenna,” he says, his voice serious.
“Miles?” I grin at him, mocking his tone.
“Would you like to come surfing with me today?” His eyebrows raise and a smile tugs at his mouth.
“It would be my pleasure.” I grin. And that’s not an exaggeration.