24. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Steven
“Do you know why Miles is calling us over for dinner?” I close the door of Wyatt’s car and buckle my seatbelt.
Wyatt pulls away from the curb, and I take one last glance at Scarlett’s window to see the light on. Sliding my phone from my pocket, I glance at the screen. My fingers grip the phone.
No text.
The last time I talked with her was this morning at The Bleacher Bean. She had dark circles under her eyes, but was acting like everything was okay when it so obviously wasn’t.
Rubbing my temple, I blow out a breath. I’ve been dying to ask what’s going on, but there’s a part of me that feels like I need to let her figure this out on her own, especially if she’s struggling with her feelings for me.
At least I hope that’s what it is.
But the last thing I want is space, especially with her living next to me.
“He didn’t say, but he wants us to meet him at his new apartment.” Wyatt pulls up in front of the building down the street with the bookstore Scarlett was telling me about a few weeks ago.
“Why are you stopping here?” I point toward the building, my forehead furrowed.
“Didn’t Miles tell you he bought a building?” Wyatt kills the engine and turns toward me. “This is it.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember. But he definitely didn’t tell me it was this building. We could’ve walked here.”
“You could’ve walked here. I don’t live down the street, but feel free to walk home later.” He gets out of the car, heads to the door on the opposite side of the bookstore entrance, and rings the buzzer.
Nodding absentmindedly, I read the display window. “First Impressions is an interesting name for a bookstore. I wonder if it has any meaning?”
Wyatt looks at the writing and shrugs just as Miles buzzes us in. “Maybe. Miles might know since he’s into old books.”
The door creaks, and the stairs moan, protesting our weight. But overall, this place is similar to walking up the stairs of my apartment over The Bleacher Bean, and it was probably built around the year.
The door upstairs squeaks open, and Miles sticks his head out. “What took you two so long?”
Jogging up the stairs, I pin my brother with my gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me you moved down the street from me? And when did you sell your house? How come I didn’t know any of this?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I completely forgot with all the excitement going on?” He quirks a brow, but the smile on his face says he just forgot.
“No.” He steps back and opens the door fully, letting me pass. “I think you were just avoiding me visiting.”
Wyatt places his coat on the back of one of the bar stools and grabs a carrot from the vegetable spread on the island. “What are we having for dinner? And please don’t say this.” He points to the veggies.
“Of course not.” Miles pulls out oven mitts and places them on the counter. “The eggplant parm should be ready in about twenty minutes. The spread is just to keep you from complaining while we wait.”
My mouth curves watching my brothers. I’ve missed our get-togethers. Video calls with them while I was in Miami were great, but not the same.
“So I had a little chat with your girlfriend today.” Miles’ words are like a sucker punch. He has a smirk on his face as he bites into a celery stick.
“She’s not my—”
“But you knew who I was talking about,” Miles chuckles.
Sliding a stool out, I take a seat and grab a cherry tomato.
“Why didn’t you just tell everyone the truth?” Wyatt asks, dipping a carrot in the ranch dressing.
“That was the plan.” I stare at the countertop, rubbing my hands together. “But then everyone just seemed…so happy…that we were together. Lying just seemed easier.”
Wyatt coughs, and Miles huffs out a laugh.
Fiddling with the carrot stick in my hand, I mumble. “I also thought maybe pretending would give me some time to convince her that what’s happening between us isn’t pretend.”
“Instead she’s playing matchmaker and trying to set you up.” Miles nods.
“Wait.” Pointing the carrot at Miles, my eyes narrow. “She told you?”
“Told you what?” Wyatt’s forehead pulls, his gaze flitting between Miles and me. “What am I missing?”
“Yeah.” Miles leans on the counter, ignoring Wyatt. “I also know why the two of you aren’t together. Did she tell you anything about a promise she made?”
“She mentioned something about it, but wouldn’t tell me who she made the promise to.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“It was Dad.”
My gaze whips up to Miles’.
“What was Dad, and why would Scarlett be playing matchmaker?” Wyatt looks genuinely confused.
“Scarlett is Emma.” Obviously still not comprehending, Wyatt shrugs, shaking his head, so Miles continues. “From The Stands? Mom wanted us to fill out questionnaires—”
“You two really had a heart-to-heart.”
Miles nods, leaning forward on the counter. “It gets better though. I know—”
“Scarlett is Emma?!” Wyatt nearly chokes on a cucumber, eyes wide as he shoves the rest in his mouth. “But I’ve heard Emma’s voice; it’s not—”
“She uses a voice modulator.”
“Whoa! I didn’t think she had it in her to be that devious,” Wyatt snorts, slapping me on the back, sounding impressed. “No way I’m filling out a questionnaire now. After teasing her, I’d be afraid of who she might set me up with.”
“She’s actually really good at it. I’m sure she could find you—”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth. “I’ll take my chances alone.”
“Don’t you want to know the rest?” When I turn back to Miles, his eyes are sparkling like they do when he knows he’s about to drop a truth bomb.
Crossing my arms, I lean against the back of my chair.
“Dad.”
“Dad, what?” Wyatt asks.
“Dad asked Scarlett to promise him three things right before he died.”
I blink. Memories rolling through me. Scarlett and I got closer, and then she pushed me away. Did he say something to her?
“Yes.” Miles is watching me intently. “He did say something, specifically about you and a relationship. But I think Scarlett misunderstood him. There is no way Dad told her to set you up with someone when he thought you two would end up together.”
“Dad told me the same,” Wyatt interjects, his mouth full.
“Did you not eat today?” Miles’ voice is incredulous. Moving the tray to the opposite side of the island, he chuckles. “I told you that dinner will be ready soon.”
“I know, but I’m starving now.” Wyatt pulls the tray back toward him. “I didn’t get my normal portions in with a double practice. If I were home right now, I’d be eating two dinners. And I would’ve eaten thirty minutes ago.”
Scrubbing my hand up and down my face, I groan. “Can we get back to Scarlett, Dad, and this promise?”
Miles side-eyes Wyatt as he continues to clear the tray, popping the last cherry tomato into his mouth before rotating the tray and moving on to the carrots.
“Miles?”
“Sorry.” He gives Wyatt one last look before turning to me. “The promise she thinks Dad asked her is to find you your perfect match.”
“Which is why she’s been so determined to set me up.”
“Yup. But Dad saw what we all did, and I’m positive it was more about you two being together than her finding you someone else to be with.”
“Did you tell her that?” Wyatt asks, and my head whips back to Miles.
“In a roundabout way, yes. But she’s struggling with the whole idea.” The timer buzzes, and Miles gets up. “Definitely in love with you—”
“Did she say that?” My eyes pop open, and I lean against the counter watching Miles place the eggplant parm on a trivet.
“No, but it’s obvious to all of us. Just like we know you’re in love with her.”
“It’s obvious to everyone,” Wyatt says as he gets up and walks around the island, only stopping when Miles gives him a hard stare as he reaches for plates.
Raising his hands in the air, he comes back around the island and sits.
“That's why everyone was planning your wedding before you and Scarlett showed up to dinner.”
“Owen’s question makes much more sense now.” I slowly nod as Miles plates some eggplant parm on each of the three plates on the counter. “So what should I do about it?”
Looking over my shoulder, Miles’ eyes dance. “You’re going to fill out a questionnaire.”
Cocking my head, I study him. “Huh?”
“Do you know Mr. Knightley in Jane Austen’s book Emma?” Wyatt groans, and my lip quirks. Now I know why Miles bought this building. “We’re going to ‘Emma’ the matchmaker and call it ‘Knightley’s Gambit’.”
Miles places a plate in front of me and then Wyatt. My hand freezes halfway to my mouth as Wyatt eats his piece in two bites.
“Look. We know I’m not good at strategy on an empty stomach.” He hands the plate back to Miles, who shakes his head, but places a second, more generous serving on Wyatt’s plate.
“She’s already come to me,” Miles says as he places his plate on the island and sits on one of the stools. “I can help push it in the direction we want it to go.”
“And which direction is that?”
“Toward you, of course. We just need to do it in a way where she thinks she could lose you to someone else.”
My brow furrows, and I rest my fork against the plate. “I don’t want to do anything—”
“Do you trust me?” Miles pins me with his gaze, and I swallow. Of course I trust him, but this feels deceitful. Miles tilts his head, his brows shooting up. Finally I nod at him. “Then trust me to just plant some seeds and suggestions. Scarlett will be the one who makes all the final decisions.”
I rest an elbow on the island, scrubbing my hand up and down my face. “Okay.”
“Wyatt, are you good to go or do you need more eggplant parm?” Miles glances at Wyatt’s empty plate and shakes his head.
“I’m ready, but I won’t turn down your offer of another serving.” He pushes his plate toward Miles.
Miles pushes it back. “Are your legs broken?”
“Some host you are,” Wyatt mumbles as he makes his way to the stove. A slanted grin on his face. “So what does this ‘Knightley’s Gambit’ look like?”
Listening to Miles explain the part of the plan he’s worked through, I feel the knot in my gut loosen. Reaching for my fork, I scoop some eggplant parm into my mouth.
The only thing I need to do is submit the one thing I’ve been avoiding.
A questionnaire.
Once that’s done, Miles will get the wheels in motion.
“What do you think?” Miles looks at both of us when he’s finished.
Shoving another forkful of dinner in my mouth, I nod.
“This is why you’re a good QB.” Wyatt reaches across the island and slaps my brother on the back. “You’re always good at reading the defense.”