Chapter 13 #2
I grip the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening. “And then what happened?”
“He was taken into foster care when he was eight.” Greg’s voice drops lower, rougher.
“For a while, we didn’t hear much. Then…
one day, my parents sat me and my sister down and told us Miles was coming to stay with us.
That we were going to be his new family.
I was excited I was going to have him as a brother. ”
He looks down, his jaw flexing. “But when he showed up…he wasn’t the same. He was so small. Skinny. Scared of everything. He’d flinch at door slams, at the sound of the TV being too loud. He wouldn’t talk to anyone except me for the first few weeks.”
My chest aches. I picture Miles as a little boy, only three years older than Riley, thin and fragile and carrying more fear than anyone should.
A boy who spent a whole year living in fear and pain.
A boy who cried alone in a strange bed because he missed a mother who’d never been able to protect him.
“He had rough nights,” Greg continues. “A lot of them. Would wake up screaming sometimes. Other nights he’d cry so quietly you wouldn’t even know he was hurting unless you stood by his door.”
I blink back the sting in my eyes. “That’s why he doesn’t talk about it.”
Greg glances over at me, jaw tight, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. “He’s always carried it on his own,” he says quietly. “Still does, if I’m honest.”
He pauses, the weight of it hanging between us.
“You wouldn’t guess that just by looking at him. He’s so…Miles. All cocky and smart-ass remarks. Walks around like nothing sticks, like nothing gets to him.” Greg lets out a breath, slow and heavy. “But I think that’s the point. It’s a mask. Always has been.”
My chest tightens.
I nod slowly, absorbing every word. I think of the way Miles looked at me that night in my kitchen, like he wanted to let me in but didn’t quite know how.
“I just…I can’t stop thinking about it,” I say quietly.
Greg’s expression softens, the kind of softness that only comes from knowing someone’s worst and loving them anyway. “He’s got a lot of walls, Viv. But if he told you all that…then you’re one of the few people he’s let see through them.”
I look over at Riley again, her brow furrowed as she debates between purple or blue for the puppy’s bow.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think he did.”
I catch Greg watching me out of the corner of my eye.
I glance at Riley, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she shades in a cartoon puppy.
Riley holds up her coloring book, grinning. “Look! I stayed in the lines!”
I lean over, inspecting her masterpiece. “Wow, look at that! You nailed it, baby. That puppy looks beautiful.” I lift my hand and she slaps it with a proud giggle.
“Nice one, kiddo,” Greg adds with a wink.
Riley beams, but then her face scrunches. “Mom, I need to pee.”
I circle around the bar and take her hand. “All right, come on. I’ll show you where it is.”
The hallway’s quiet, and the bathrooms are still fresh and spotless—nothing like the chaos that hits on Fridays and Saturdays when the place turns upside down. She uses the bathroom, washes her hands, and then we head back.
And that’s when I see Miles—for the first time in two weeks.
Leaning against the bar like he owns the damn place, casual and commanding all at once.
My chest pulls tight, and my stomach does this ridiculous fluttery thing that I wish I could ignore.
Why the hell do I feel like this?
Riley sprints ahead and scrambles back onto her stool. She peers up at him, wide-eyed and mischievous. “You’re my mommy’s friend,” she announces. “The one that was sweating like a pig!”
Oh my god.
I pick up the pace, heat climbing up my neck as I rush to her side.
“Riley,” I hiss, trying not to die of second hand embarrassment. “We don’t say things like that. And we definitely don’t compare people to pigs.”
She blinks at me, then turns back to him with rosy cheeks. “Sorry for calling you a pig.”
Miles is smiling, soft and amused, not even a little offended. His arms are crossed, tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves, that cocky smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.
Greg’s laughter rumbles behind the bar. “I mean, she’s not wrong…”
I shoot him a look and he immediately coughs, straightening.
“Right. Yep. Sorry.”
Miles crouches a little, bringing himself level with Riley. “It’s okay,” he says gently. “I was kind of sweaty that day.”
She giggles, her little smile lighting up the space between them.
It’s been almost two weeks since I last saw him. Two weeks since he cracked himself open and let me peek inside. And now he’s here, looking…bigger. Broader. Like the air’s shifted from him stepping into it.
Sharp jaw, messily styled hair, that same damn strand falling across his forehead like it always does.
He looks good.
Too good.
And I hate how fast my heart’s racing just from being in the same room again.
“Hey, Vivian.”
His voice is low, confident. His eyes meet mine like they’ve been looking for me all day.
“Hey.” I clear my throat, trying not to sound like my pulse just spiked. “How’ve you been?”
He leans his forearms on the bar, the soft stretch of muscle pulling at the sleeves of his shirt. “Busy. Training hard for the competition coming up in less than two months and Mya’s been filling my schedule with meetings, so…non-stop.”
Greg slides into the conversation like he’s been waiting for an excuse. He claps a hand on Miles’s back, casual and brotherly. “You nervous?”
Miles shrugs, lips curving into that trademark smirk. “Nah.”
Of course not. It’s the most Miles answer he could give.
Riley’s head pops up from her coloring book, attention snagged. “What competition?”
Miles turns to her, eyes softening as he crouches a little to her level. “Bull riding,” he explains, grinning. “I’ve gotta hop on a wild bull and hold on tight for as long as I can.”
Her eyes widen. “Whoa. That’s cool. And scary.”
We laugh. The sound feels easy. Familiar.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool but a little scary if I’m not careful,” Miles says. “Speaking of…” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “If you and Riley want to come, I’ve got tickets for you.”
“Mommy, can we go?” Riley asks, those wide, hopeful eyes practically shimmering. “Please?”
I glance at Greg, then at Miles. His gaze is calm, but there’s something behind it, like he’s holding his breath waiting for my answer.
“Erm…” I hesitate.
“Mommy, please,” Riley begs, bouncing slightly on her stool. “He’s gonna be on a bull!”
Miles chuckles, and dammit, it makes me smile too. I hate that it’s so effortless with him.
“You can invite Mindy too,” Miles adds, his voice light.
At the mention of her name, Greg’s face shifts, subtle but telling. Something flickers across his features before he smooths it over. Huh. I haven’t been able to catch up with Mindy lately. She’s been off the grid, busy with something.
I look between the three of them—Riley, practically vibrating with excitement, Greg, already mentally planning the car snacks, and Miles, watching me like I’m the only person in the room that matters.
I sigh, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “I guess…we can go.”
Riley throws her arms in the air. “Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Greg immediately jumps in, puffing his chest a little. “You know I’m there. So are Mom and Dad. Dahlia, though…she’s too busy with that c—” He glances at Riley mid-word, catches Miles and me both sending him warning glares, and clears his throat. “Charming boyfriend of hers.”
I roll my eyes, biting back a smile. Him and Mindy are practically twins with how reckless they are around Riley’s ears. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to censor Mindy mid-rant before she traumatized my child.
“Yeah,” Miles says. “I figured she wouldn’t come. Told her anyway, just in case. No reply yet.”
His expression dips for a beat. Barely noticeable, but enough.
I’ve never been to a bull-riding event before. Trevor used to love them. He’d sit glued to the TV, hollering like it was the Super Bowl. I never really got the appeal. A grown man trying not to get thrown off a pissed-off bull in under eight seconds?
Reckless is what it is.
“Thank you, Miles,” I say softly.
Miles doesn’t say anything. Just flashes that heart-melting grin.
He hands the tickets over to me, eyes glued to each other, and our fingers touch, and I pretend like I don’t feel it all the way down to my toes.
“Yeah! Thank you!” Riley chimes in, all sunshine and innocence as she throws her arms around his leg in a little squeeze.
And just like that, I melt.
Miles wraps an arm around her, gently, hugging her back.
It does something to my chest.
God, help me.