Chapter Nine #2
“The Peppered Page’s buyout required me to submit new designs for a year. I sent them my last watercolors in January.” A blackfly landed on her leg, and she whisked it away. “It’s different when you have to give it over to a company. It stops being yours. I’m glad that year is over.”
“Is that why you’re getting an MBA?” he asked. “Because word of warning, there’s more handing stuff in where you’re headed. It’s school.”
She had never considered that. Going back to school made sense to everyone else but felt murky to her.
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me.” He set the book aside, keeping his eyes on her.
The fading light softened him into an irresistible mess of dark hair and ever-darkening eyes.
Dusk suited Miles. And his foot resting against her thigh suited her.
To stop the fluttering inside her chest, Avery dipped her brush in the lemon yellow.
Soon it would be too dark to paint, but painting was her security blanket for talks on this dock.
“Getting engaged to the wrong person made me doubt myself.” She puffed her cheeks and blew out a long breath as she swirled the yellow with the crimson, creating a vibrant scarlet.
“I was never sure if Trent loved me or loved having me. He encouraged me to sell the Peppered Page, so I could stay home and not ask where he had been when he came home late. I let my life become about him, and the dreamer in me faded away. Thankfully, he left before he could claim half my company as his.”
“I thought you left him.” Miles’s eyes darkened with concern.
She expected the words to sting or to draw up old hurts, especially coming from Miles.
“People say that to make me sound strong, but I wasn’t.
I woke up one morning to a friend’s texts and photos of him with another woman.
He admitted there’d been others but left me to do the breaking up.
One day, everything aligned perfectly. The next, everything was uncertain.
After Mimi’s funeral, I moved into her house in Charlottesville, stuck and afraid to be myself again.
I like that an MBA will make me hirable and keep me safe. ”
Miles brow furrowed, his eyes still focused on her. Having someone listen and not tell her what to do helped.
“Leaving your fiancée takes courage,” he said with a small nod. “Lots of it.”
He leaned forward and laid a hand on her knee. She’d admitted things she had never said aloud, and her revelations and the excitement of his comforting touch swirled together on her internal palette. She had unexpectedly blended a deep shade of vulnerability and entrusted it to him.
“I have great news.” He winked. “I saw the dreamer yesterday. She redecorated a cabin in her head and talked a man into crafting some kind of bizarre tree bed.”
Avery shook her head and smiled. That had been instinct, same as when she’d picked his counters. It had been fun. She set aside her painting and stared out at the darkening lake. There was more to the puzzle, and maybe he needed to hear it all.
“I think I picked the MBA because a top tier program admitted me despite the zero on my transcript,” she said. “I failed my first semester of sophomore year.”
That was the semester after they had broken up.
She felt like she should say something else, but it shouldn’t be up to her to make the wrong feel right.
She watched her words sink in. Her pain began the day he left.
She’d waited two days for him to come around and when he didn’t, she knew he’d abandoned her emotionally.
There’d been no choice but to distance herself physically.
She’d cried the whole way back to Vanderbilt.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, releasing a sigh that sounded like defeat, or maybe regret.
“Avery, I, um.” He swallowed and closed his eyes.
Avery didn’t want remorse; she needed him to understand she had struggled. Her transcript proved there was no forgetting what happened. So did the firefly tattoo on his hip.
“I worked my way out of the hole,” she said before he could respond. “Dartmouth has a prestigious program. Someone there thinks I have potential, and it seems foolish to waste that.”
Truth was, a business degree had never been one of her goals. She’d always envisioned herself in the arts. She might not trust Miles with everything, but he was listening, and he might share how he had navigated life after selling CashCache.
“This feels good.” She held up her brush. “But I don’t know if lightning can strike twice. An MBA could mean never designing something again. And designing things is my thing.”
Her voice cracked at the realization getting an MBA was playing it safe.
Pursuing another artistic endeavor risked defeat.
The little voice in her head telling her she’d crash and burn was so much louder than the one telling her she’d succeed.
This was a lot to admit to a man whose ideas never failed.
Miles’s stare intensified into something which could easily have been mistaken for seduction in another context. He gave her ankle a gentle squeeze. A long, lonely cry echoed through the quiet. Over his shoulder, two small black shadows glided out from the cove between Montressa and the Red House.
The loons were back.
Miles nudged her leg and lifted a finger to his lips. She widened her eyes in excitement. His foot stayed touching her thigh. They waited quietly as the black and white birds swam closer and glided by.
Loons were dramatic, with their black-and-white striped collars, spotted backs and lingering, eerie calls. She loved how the babies rode on the mother loon’s back and hoped to see that again this summer.
After the loons left, Miles let out a deep sigh.
Avery studied him. He shouldn’t look this enticing. It could’ve been the light or the way he encouraged her to find her own way.
“Hey,” he whispered, lightly kicking his foot against her thigh, his gaze seeping into her like a solemn promise.
“The only opportunity that’s foolish to waste is the one you want.
You don’t need someone else to validate your potential.
Your success speaks for itself. The trick is to believe in yourself.
I’m guessing you have two lists. You show everyone the first one.
It has the MBA on it. The other, you keep hidden because you’re afraid if you write it down, it won’t come true.
That’s the one that matters. You know you’re amazing, right? ”
His words echoed through her, and for the first time in a long time, Avery felt understood.
He still knew her better than she knew herself.
With his warm thigh resting against her foot and his smile lit by the pink haze, it became easy to forget how long it had taken to heal after Miles broke her heart.
He fixed his hair and picked up his book, fanning the pages.
A rogue paintbrush rhythmically rolling down the plank beside her broke the silence. Miles reached across her and picked it up before it fell into the gap between the planks. His hand whisked over her jeans, sending a gush through her middle.
“You’ve got a runaway,” he said, handing her the brush.
“Don’t want that,” she said, reaching out. Her fingers landed on his and stayed there. Touching Miles’s warm hand after he’d called her amazing lit up all the right places. That overwhelming urge to place her thumb in the dent in his chin bubbled to the surface.
Avery glanced away, thinking about how much she’d revealed.
At how close they were to something. It felt nice to lean into Miles, but she knew better.
This was nostalgia, not reality. It made no sense to cross a line she couldn’t come back from.
If her career confusion proved anything, she needed his friendship.
She felt the urge to process this somewhere else, by herself. She stood, stretched, slipped on her shoes, and tried to sound casual.
“I should go. The blackflies are out, and I don’t want to get eaten. Plus, I need to let Casper out.” She collected her things and headed up the dock. “Thanks for the dinner.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you for letting me join you,” he called after her.
Avery didn’t exhale until she unlocked the door to the loft.
She shook her head, attempting to clear her confusion.
Miles had cooked her dinner. There had been touching, understanding, listening.
She’d revealed so much, ignoring the truth she’d learned the hard way ten years ago.
Basking in Miles’s warmth led to shivering in his shade.