6. Miles
MILES
I don’t realize I’m whistling as I unlock the office door Monday morning.
I spent most of the weekend with Jenna, helping her clean up the house so she could stay there.
There were a few awkward moments where her emotions got the better of her—ordinarily, that would send me running.
There is something about tears that makes me feel useless—like I’m supposed to fix it, but I never quite know how.
For some reason though, I didn’t run. I wanted to stay.
I feel drawn to Jenna like I’ve never experienced before, like a current I can’t fight.
She’s guarded but that’s probably because of everything she’s dealing with right now.
After nearly forty-eight hours getting to know her, I admittedly, still don’t know that much—but I want to.
Aside from her warm brown eyes and genuine, disarming smile, there’s a brokenness about her, cracks beneath the surface she’s trying to hide.
I want to know more about her. I can’t exactly explain why but, it’s not my usual MO—not by a long shot.
“Yo, dude.” Nate comes up behind me, scaring the shit out of me.
I nearly jump out of my skin. “Geez, warn a brother, will you?” I huff, whirling around to face him.
“Sorry. Why are you so jumpy?” Nate reaches around me to push open the door and walks inside. I follow him.
“I’m just tired, I guess. I spent all weekend helping Jenna with her house. I didn’t even surf. Maybe I need to decompress.” I walk to my desk, drop my briefcase—that really has nothing in it—and boot up my desktop.
Nate gives a low whistle. “Whoa. You spent all weekend with that girl?” He raises his eyebrows. “When was the last time you did that ?”
I hold up my hands. “Hey, it wasn’t like that ,” I say, hesitating. “I just get the sense that she’s been through a lot. I feel bad about that so I’m helping her out.”
“So, she’s sad, and you didn’t hook up because you feel bad for her?
That doesn’t sound like you,” Nate says, a smirk playing on his lips.
Nate is the most honest and loyal guy I know, but we’ve always been polar opposites.
It’s not that I’m not honest or loyal—I am, to my friends and family.
But, with women? I protect myself. I go after what I want, and for the past two years since my divorce, I haven’t really cared about who I hurt.
I’m not proud of that. Of course, Nate finds it hard to believe that I can spend a weekend with a woman and not have sex with her. “Is she weird?”
I bark out a laugh that surprises us both. “Not even a little bit.”
“Huh.” Nate rocks back in his chair. “Well, I’ll be.”
I crumple up a piece of paper and throw it at him, laughing. “Shut up.”
By late morning, I can’t take it anymore. I want to know what Jenna is up to. No, I want to see her. I actually remembered to get her number this time, so I shoot her a text.
Me:
What are you up to?
It takes her a few minutes to respond, and they’re the longest minutes of my life. What is happening to me? Who is this girl?
Finally, after about five minutes her reply comes through.
Jenna:
I’m going to buy some paint! How is work?
I smile as I read the text, and I’m definitely not mistaking the curious look Nate gives me.
I ignore him and hammer back a reply.
Me:
Whoa, whoa. Don’t buy paint yet. We need a home inspector to come out first.
Jenna’s reply comes at a rapid speed this time.
Jenna:
Too late.
I groan, throwing my head back.
“You good over there?” Nate asks, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
“Jenna bought paint.” I frown. “I wanted to get her a home inspection first.”
“I think she might need a different kind of inspection from you.” Nate chortles at his own joke.
I ignore him and reply to Jenna.
Me:
I am going to set up a home inspection for you. Don’t paint anything until after that.
Jenna:
Ugh. Fine.
I must be smiling at my phone again—Nate cocks his head at me, a little brother twinkle in his eye. “You like this girl,” he observes with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“I don’t.” I shake my head. “I mean, not like that . I’m just being nice.
” I shrug. “I’m doing what you would do if you got to her first.” I laugh, brushing him off.
So what if Jenna was the last thing I thought about before I went to sleep last night—and the first thing this morning?
So what if I’m already thinking of ways I can see her again?
I am not a relationship guy anymore but damn if Jenna hasn’t made me second guess that.
“Right.” Nate nods, a sarcastic smirk playing on his mouth.
But even as he says it, I am already texting Jenna back.
Me:
Have you eaten yet? Want to get some brunch?
Jenna agrees to meet me at a small cafe downtown for brunch.
I want to see her, but I don’t want her to know that I can’t stop thinking about her, so I arm myself with information about the house.
I don’t even know why I want to see her so badly.
I’ve got some soul-searching of my own to do.
Since my ex-wife, Erin, no woman has pulled me in like this.
Typically, I’ll ask a girl out, she’ll say yes—a vacation fling sounds fun.
We’ll hang out for a week and then she’ll go back to her life, and I’ll go back to mine.
It’s really the perfect arrangement: I’m never lonely, and I never have to commit to anyone.
Jenna fits the mold—she is just passing through—but I can already tell she’d be different for me.
Only since I’ve met her have I started feeling like something is missing.
It’s a foreign feeling and suddenly, I’m questioning everything.
When I walk up to the café, Jenna is already sitting at an outdoor table waiting for me.
She’s scrolling on her phone and doesn’t notice me at first. I pause before she does and let myself take her in.
Her brown hair, in its naturally wavy texture, is blowing in the autumn breeze.
She’s wearing oversized black sunglasses and black leggings.
Her running shoes look brand new, and I wonder if she has ever worn them.
Maybe she’s like me, has good intentions of running, even goes as far as buying the shoes, but then never actually runs.
She has on a long-sleeved shirt, but she rubs her arms when the breeze blows, telling me she’s chilly.
She’s beautiful, and I am completely taken aback by her.
I glance down at my own outfit. Nate and I keep a pretty casual office, unless we have home showings.
I’m wearing loose-fitting jeans, a thermal, and my gray Hey Dudes.
This is an outfit I would wear on a date, yet I’m strangely self-conscious.
I don’t know what’s happening to me around this girl.
I run a hand through my floppy hair and suck in a breath. It’s now or never.
A soft breeze drifts in as I approach, and Jenna rubs her arms again. “Are you cold?” I ask her.
She looks up from her phone, giving me an easy smile and pushing her sunglasses onto her head. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say back. For a moment, our eyes lock, and we linger there, suspended in whatever this is that’s brewing between us. Mesmerized by this woman, I clear my throat. “If you’re chilly, let’s eat inside.”
Jenna nods. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds better.” She shivers a little and I resist the urge to wrap an arm around her. I’m not even trying to sleep with her, yet her every move makes me want to reach out and touch her.
We walk toward the door, and I put my hand on her lower back as I open it with my other. She smiles at me over her shoulder, and I can’t tell if it’s meant to be encouraging or if she’s being polite. I quickly remove my hand once we’re inside, just to be safe.
The hostess leads us to a corner booth, and Jenna slides in across from me. I sit down and look over the menu, forcing myself to act normally. All it took was a weekend helping Jenna to turn me into this rom-com cliche.
“So…” Jenna says nervously. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?” She raises her eyebrows.
Something I want to talk about…right. Because it would be weird to have asked her to brunch otherwise. I chew on my lip, trying to remember my excuse.
Before I can answer, a server comes over, interrupting us. “Hi, folks. My name is Julie. I’ll be taking care of you. Can I interest you in some coffee?”
“Yes!” Jenna says quickly. I chuckle as she shrugs sheepishly. “This is my first cup today. The coffee maker in that house is ancient. I couldn’t even figure out how to turn it on.” Note to self, buy Jenna a coffee pot. No. Don’t do that. That’s not something property managers do.
I laugh. “Yes, please,” I say to the server. When she walks away, I clear my throat, finding my voice again. “I set up a home inspection for you. It’ll be tomorrow afternoon. I don’t know the guy, but Danny does. He’ll be there with us so he can give us advice if we need it.”
Jenna sighs, relief crossing her delicate features. “Thank you, Miles. Really. I don’t know what I would do if I hadn’t met you.” She pauses and as an afterthought says, “Probably cry. Since lately it seems like that’s all I do.”
The server returns, placing two piping hot mugs of diner coffee in front of us.
“I’ll give you two another few minutes,” she says before walking away.
She slides the mug toward her and inhales deeply before fixing her coffee thoughtfully.
I stifle an awkward cough, scratching my stubble. “I’m happy to help,” I tell her, reaching for my own cup of coffee.
Our hands brush when I reach for it and my knuckles tingle.
Jenna gives me a hesitant smile before pulling her hand back and reaching for her mug.
If I’m not misreading the situation, there is something mutual in the way her eyes meet mine—uncertain but open.
Our eyes meet and the conversation stalls again, both of us looking to the other to speak first.