Chapter 22 Miles #2
He tilts his head, smirking. “Bella’s nice. Maybe we leave her alone for the rest of the year.”
The grin fades slowly as silence seeps between us. The kind that fills in the cracks of everything we’re not saying. Finally, he exhales, flicks what’s left of the cigarette, and pushes off the car.
“Come on,” he says. “We’re going to her place.”
“Jamie—”
“She’s leaving, Miles. It’s now or never.”
I want to say that it’s not, but I know I’m wrong. So I follow him.
The drive is quiet. The kind of quiet that hums under your skin.
Jamie drums his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat only he hears, headlights carving a path through the wet pavement.
My head’s spinning with everything—Rico, my uncle, Chloe’s name in their mouths.
Her voice when she told Jamie she was leaving.
When we pull up outside her building, the windows are dark except for one. Third floor. I know which one’s hers.
Jamie kills the engine. We sit there for a second, the engine ticking.
“You sure about this?” I ask.
He glances over, smirks. “Nope.”
We climb the stairs. He knocks once. Then twice.
The door opens halfway. She’s in a hoodie, her hair damp, like she’s just showered. Bare legs, paint on her hands. Her eyes widen when she sees both of us standing there.
“What are you two doing here?”
Jamie leans against the doorframe, easy as ever. “Can we talk?”
She looks between us, suspicion tightening her shoulders. “About what?”
“Everything,” I say.
She hesitates, then sighs and steps back. “Fine.”
The apartment smells like detergent and rain. There are suitcases and bags stacked by the door, half-packed.
Paris. She wasn’t lying.
Jamie sits on the counter, and I take the arm of the couch. Chloe stands near the window, arms crossed.
“Well?” she says. “I can’t say I was expecting the both of you.”
Jamie clears his throat. “You’re really leaving.”
Her eyes flash. “You say that like I would lie about that. Like it’s some kind of betrayal.”
He shrugs. “Maybe it is.”
She blinks, caught off guard. “You can’t guilt me for trying to start over.”
“I’m not,” Jamie says. “I just—shit, Chloe, you’ve got both of us all twisted up, and you’re acting like that means nothing.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. “That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not,” he admits. “But it’s true.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Look, we know about the team stuff. The rumors. You quitting. You moving. Fine. But you don’t have to vanish like this.”
Her voice cracks just slightly. “You both made it really easy to want to disappear.”
That hits. Hard.
Jamie goes still, expression unreadable. “That’s what you think?”
She glares.
The air thickens between us. Rain starts tapping at the window. Jamie slides off the counter and takes a slow step toward her. “Then tell me what we’re supposed to do with that.”
She backs up a little. “You don’t do anything. You forget about me.”
“Can’t.”
Her jaw tightens. “Jamie—”
“Can’t,” he says again, firmer this time. “You think we haven’t tried?”
I rise from the couch, my pulse uneven. “He’s right. We’ve been trying to do the decent thing, and you’re not making it any easier.”
She glares at me. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “That’s the problem.”
For a moment, no one says anything. Then she shakes her head, voice trembling now. “You don’t get it. I can’t stay here. Not after everything. Not with people whispering and—”
Jamie cuts in, voice low. “They whisper because they care about the wrong things. You care because you think you owe them something.”
She presses her palms to her eyes. “Please don’t do this right now.”
Jamie looks at me, then back at her. “You said you didn’t want to leave thinking I hated you.”
Her breath catches. “Yeah.”
“Then hear me when I say I don’t.”
Something breaks in her face—relief, disbelief, maybe both. And I know right then that I can’t stand another second of watching her like this.
I step closer. “You’re not the only one who’s messed up over this, Chloe.”
She looks at me then and something flickers there, sharp and scared. “Don’t.”
Jamie’s voice softens. “He’s not wrong.”
“Please,” she whispers.
But then she’s between us, and neither of us moves. It’s like gravity’s given up, pulling us into the same orbit. Her breath hitches when Jamie brushes a strand of hair from her cheek.
“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs.
She closes her eyes. “Jamie…”
I don’t even remember moving until I’m behind her, close enough to feel her heartbeat. My hand finds her waist, hesitant, then firm when she doesn’t pull away.
“Have both of you gone insane?” she asks, her voice breaking.
“Probably,” I answer. “But tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
Jamie’s thumb traces her jaw, his voice rough. “You’re leaving anyway. What’s the harm in being honest?”
Her eyes flutter open. “Honest?”
He nods. “Yeah. About what this is.”
Her gaze shifts between us, her chest rising too fast. “I don’t even know what this is.”
“Then we’ll figure it out,” I say, my voice low against her ear. “Or not. But you don’t get to leave thinking it meant nothing.”
She turns, looking at me, then him, torn apart by something none of us can name.