Chapter 26
I realize something: the entire cabin is dark. —Milo Warner
“Did you secure the items?” Sam asks as he strolls across the parking lot of the community center, the lights of a colorful sunset at his back.
“Why do you sound like we’re in a James Bond movie?” Jack asks him as he slides out of his truck and walks past a few Subarus and Jeeps to get to the two of us. “He picked up boutonnieres for our dates, not a stockpile of handguns.”
Sam sends him a tolerant look. “The boutonnieres are supposed to be a surprise, and as Malachai and Benson are both meeting us here for the prom, I was simply trying to avoid ruining that surprise.”
“Wow, you’re in full on Bond-mode tonight.” Jack winks at him. “Fancy suits and everything. Tom picked that one out, I assume? Violet? Really?”
Sam tugs at the pastel blue-and-green patterned necktie he’s wearing. “Malachai likes it,” he mutters.
“I bet.” Jack turns to me and wolf whistles as I pass a plastic box to him and another to Sam. “And you! Looking suave as always, Dr. Warner.”
“Thanks.” I send him a nod. “A flannel shirt and jeans for prom? Really?”
Jack grins. “Benson likes what he likes. So,” he asks me as we start the walk across the parking lot. “You holding up okay? I know you’re still in wait-and-see mode, and I’m guessing you were ready to start cutting into this problem about thirty-six hours ago.”
I sigh as we hit the edge of the parking lot.
This is where I need to turn left and head to the cabin so I can present Noah with his flower, sweep him off his feet, and take him to prom.
Jack and Sam are meeting Benson and Malachai up at the community center, which is already spilling music and bright disco light down the hill.
“Let’s not make jokes about me and Ezra Morehouse and knives, okay?
My willpower this week has been tested plenty of times as it is. ”
Jack raises his arms in surrender. “No more surgery jokes, Doc. I promise. Seriously, though,” he asks. “You hanging in there? PI report is coming soon, right?”
“Hopefully by tomorrow.” I shake my head. “We’re both in so deep at this point,” I mutter, more to myself than either of my friends. “Me and Noah. At this point, all I can see are all the ways things can go wrong from here. All the ways he can get hurt.”
Sam crosses his arms. “Not to mention all the ways you can get hurt.”
“You sound like my sister.”
“Your sister’s very wise.” Jack pokes me in the arm. “Have you thought any more about coming to work with me and Sam? Maybe it’s time we had an ortho in Devon Falls. Gabe’s about to reopen a ski area here, after all.”
“The knee injuries alone could keep us in business,” Sam mutters.
“I don’t know, guys.” I throw back my head and laugh.
“How the hell did I even end up here? One day I’m the top guy in my practice, supporting health-care bills and working with the best medical teams in the country on cutting-edge surgical techniques.
Now I’m standing here with you two, talking about whether I’ll ever even pick up a scalpel again. ”
“Yes. Well.” Sam sends me a wry smile. “You are talking to two people who also have some experience with losing everything that was supposed to be in front of them.”
“Shit.” I wince. Sam and Jack are both so damn happy up here in Devon Falls, that sometimes I forget they’ve both seen their worlds crash and burn to pieces. “Listen, I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Sam says. “Whoever attacked your mother’s campaign put you through hell, Milo. He reached into the soul of why you practice medicine and ripped it apart.”
Damn. That’s such an accurate way of putting things that I nearly turn away from him. “Well. Way to get to the heart of the matter, Sam.”
Jack sighs. “That’s what happened, Milo.
Just remember, when Sam and I lost everything and were forced to start over…
” He smiles slightly as he looks around us, at the dusky light bouncing off trees sparkling with their autumn highlights, at the gondola cars sitting on the ridge just above us, at the behemoth building in the background, the one I spent so much time rebuilding, the one that now has laughing faces and colorful lights beaming through every window.
And then his gaze stops on the path to the cabin. My cabin. The one I share with Noah Hardaway.
He and Sam turn and start walking up to the community center. “See you at the dance!” Jack calls.
“It’s a prom!” I call back. “Even though you’re dressed for line dancing,” I murmur as I clutch the boutonniere box in my hand and start the walk toward the cabin.
I’m halfway up the path when I realize something: the entire cabin is dark.
Every single light is out, even the lamp that Noah and I usually leave on in the living room when Bear’s by herself at night.
The only illumination in sight belongs to the last lights of twilight and the beams casting from the solar lights stuck into the ground along the pathway.
I frown as I take another step forward. Shit. Did I confuse our plans? I told Noah I’d meet him here at the cabin and we’d walk over to the dance together. Did I misunderstand something?
Another thought beats like a drumline at the back of my mind. Did he give up? Did he leave?
I’ve been watching him get steadily less confident in his choice to stay here and “wait and see” with me as we’ve hung on for news from Mia’s PI.
I notice the way he cringes every time his father texts him.
I see the way he stares out windows, searching for answers that don’t exist between falling leaves.
I feel the way he seeks comfort in hugs from me, then pulls away suddenly, as if he’s quickly remembered an invisible line between us that he isn’t supposed to cross.
I’ve tried so hard not to “over-alpha,” as I think of it in my brain, or push in any spot where he’s not ready to be pushed.
But here’s the thing about Noah Hardaway: I’ve never been able to be anything other than fully myself in front of him.
That drive to protect and support him at every turn? I can’t just turn it off.
And now I’m standing here in the falling dark, wondering yet again if I’ve overstepped. If I’ve pushed him away, if I made the wrong move when I asked him to wait for the report, if I—
“Milo.”
I whirl around at the sound of my name, whispered across the slight breeze in the air. And there he is, standing on the west side of the cabin, surrounded by the last daylight of the sky.
I notice his outfit first. He’s got on dark blue velvet pants and a navy blazer, and I can see the t-shirt he’s wearing under it even from this distance. Vermont is for Lovers, it says in printed rainbow letters against a navy-blue background that perfectly matches the blazer.
I stop on the path in front of him. “Nice outfit,” I tell him.
He eyes me up and down. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
I laugh as I hold out the plastic box I’m holding. “Your boutonniere, good sir. May I escort you to this evening’s event?”
The tips of his ears are pink as he takes the box and studies it. “You brought me a flower,” he murmurs. He lifts himself up on his tiptoes. “Thank you, Milo.”
I lean down just enough to take his face in my hands, and he wraps his arms around my back as we kiss.
The air around us seems to move in time with the drifts of songs that cascade down the hill from the community center, and I take my time memorizing each inch of Noah’s lips with my own as we kiss.
I find myself doing that every single time we kiss these days. Everything between and around us sits in so much uncertainty. But Noah’s lips against mine? Nothing about that touch ever feels uncertain.
I help him pin the flower in place on the lapel of his blazer, and then I take his hand and lead him up the hill. The music gets louder and louder as we get closer to the center, and I’m just about to push the door open and lead him into the chaos, when Noah puts a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. We’re about to walk into one of the biggest crowds Noah has likely ever seen in Devon Falls, and we’d already planned for him to stay behind me as we made our entrance. “Do we need to skip the prom?” I ask him.
“Not skip it.” He shakes his head. “And nothing’s wrong, not exactly. I was just thinking, maybe we could have one dance out here first? Just the two of us, alone?”
I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. More time alone with Noah Hardaway? I’ll always like the sound of that.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Over Noah’s hair, I find my favorite music app. The sounds coming through my speaker are tinny, especially compared to the bass line that’s echoing inside the building in front of us, but Noah just smiles.
“Taylor Swift? Really?”
“Just listen to the lyrics.” I pull him to me and hold him against my body as I shuffle our legs together, moving us in slow time across the grass while Taylor sings about how words that can be used as weapons can also be used to express love.
“The first time I ever heard this song,” I tell him.
“I didn’t understand it. Not at all, really.
But I was listening to it the other day when it popped up on a playlist, and I was thinking about words, you know?
And how sometimes the meaning of a word comes purely from the person who’s saying that word, rather than the word that’s being said.
” I clear my throat. “I’m not sure if that even makes sense, but… ”
I’m struggling to figure out how to finish the sentence when Noah finishes it for me. “It makes sense to me,” he says. “Alpha,” he adds softly.
I press my lips to his again. The kiss is long, hard, and searching, as the music swirls between the disco lights shining from the windows behind us and the limbs of the trees surrounding us.
And for the first time in maybe my whole life, I know one thing for sure: there’s not a damn thing wrong with how I’m wired.
Not if Noah Hardaway doesn’t think there is.
We never actually make it inside the prom.
We dance for two more songs outside as the sky shifts to a moonlit darkness, and I’m just about to finally push the front doors of the community center open so we can head inside when Scout comes charging out through them.
The edges of his hair are popping out from under a threadbare knit hat.
“There you are.” He clears his throat. “Milo, your sister’s been blowing up the community center phone.
She says she really needs to talk to you, and you’re not answering your cell? ”
I look down at my phone. “Shit. My music app settings must have had calls and texts set on Do Not Disturb.” I grab the cordless phone handset Scout’s holding. “Mia? What’s up?”
She drops the answer I’m hoping for, thank goodness. “I wanted you to know right away. My PI sent us a file. Check your email.”
“Thanks, sis.” I hang up the phone and take Noah’s hand. “I think we might just miss this prom.”