Chapter 23 #2
“Yeah, I do but they deserve to explore the world like they always planned to.” His expression softens with quiet concern. “I miss Dahlia too. She doesn’t say it, but I think she feels the shift more than the rest of us.”
Right. His sister. The one supposedly engaged to a guy her family can’t stand. If the look Greg gave me the one time he mentioned the fiancé was anything to go by, I’d agree—he’s probably a dick.
“You talk to her much?” I ask.
He raises a brow. “So many questions, Bambi. Are we still playing twenty questions?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Sorry. I ramble.”
He slows at a red light, then reaches out and tilts my chin toward him. It’s gentle. Barely a graze. But it sends a swarm of butterflies straight to my stomach.
“I like when you ramble,” he says, voice low and deliberate. “But to answer your question…no, we barely speak.”
I notice he hardens his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He cares a lot, I can tell just by how he speaks about her, that he wants his little sister back, which I’m sure she’ll come to her senses soon enough. Hopefully.
We pull into a small parking lot near a well-loved ice cream parlor in town, flower boxes hang beneath windows, their blooms a little wild, like they’ve grown alongside the music.
The streets are lined with old brick buildings, their painted signs slightly faded from years of southern sun.
Neon lights flicker above doorways, bars, diners, and honky-tonks that come alive once the sun dips low.
The air carries a blend of scents, freshly brewed coffee from café Roxy on the corner, and fried food coming from the diner across the street.
Pickup trucks are parked along the curb, dust clinging to their tires, while storefronts display hand-painted signs—boutiques, record stores, and family-owned places that have been there longer than most folks can remember.
As we get out, I notice it—eyes. Whispers. Quiet judgment cloaked in curious smiles.
A few women—mid-fifties, maybe older—sit out front of Café Roxy, crocheting with iced teas beside them, snickering in front of us.
And just like that, the anxiety starts gnawing at my nerves. My nails find each other, fidgeting, and Miles notices.
He clears his throat, adjusts his hat with a smirk, and tips it toward the women. “Afternoon, ladies.”
One of them—Luanne, I think—giggles like a schoolgirl crushing over a jock.
But then comes the voice. One I know too well.
“Well, look who’s here,” a woman says sweetly, too sweet.
I turn toward the voice and see her. Cassidy. Trevor’s sister. Always had a strange way of hovering near our life, lingering like a shadow with too much perfume. I haven’t seen her since the funeral.
She eyes me, then flicks her gaze to Miles. Her friend Skye just focuses on Miles, as if I am not standing next to him.
“Nice to see you’ve moved on, Viv,” she says, smiling like her words aren’t poison dipped in honey. “Didn’t expect to see you around here with someone like him. But I guess times change.”
I blink, my nails digging into my palms. She always did get on my nerves, every family gathering with she was there, wanting all the attention, especially when I was pregnant with Riley.
She couldn’t stand not being the center of attention for five minutes.
She’d make it unbearable at times, snarky pessimistic comments, and when I’d try bond with her, she’d pretend I wasn’t there.
However, besides Cassidy, I loved being around his family, they always were a loving but a little chaotic at times with all their family banter and loud talking.
“Nice to see you too, Cassidy,” I say, giving her the fakest smile.
Cassidy leans back on the café chair, eyeing Miles top to bottom, acting all seductive. It’s been so long since I’ve had any interaction with her, and from what I can see, she’s not changed one bit. Kind of sad, honestly, but there are some people that will never change.
“Miles, you’re looking nice, better than ever actually.” She winks and brings her cup of coffee to her lips.
Gross.
Miles moves his hand to my lower back, subtle but grounding. Protective. “Come on, let’s get you that ice cream,” he says as we walk toward the ice cream parlor.
I hear her groan. “Whatever. You won’t have much fun with her…practically a virgin again.”
And then we stop.
Hearing both her and her friend snickering over her comment, heat travels up my neck, cheeks, and to my ears, from both embarrassment and anger.
I quickly turn and slam my hands on her table, inches away from her face.
“What have I ever done to you?” My tone firm but aggressive.
I don’t care if the people around are looking, she needs to be put in her place.
“You’ve never liked me, you always had something bitchy to say, whether it was when I started dating Trevor, when he proposed, when I was pregnant and my belly started to show, the day of my wedding. You just never quit, do you?”
Cassidy’s eyes narrow, her lips pressed into a straight line.
My chest tightens with rage and a sharp ache in my stomach, but it’s the hands wrapping around my waist that I focus on.
“Vivian, leave her, she’s not worth it.”
I ignore him because I’m not done yet.
Is it strange how much rage I feel right now? Was it the comment she made, or am I using her as an excuse to let all my anger and frustration out on? Could be, and aren’t I fucking glad it’s Cassidy.
“I’m not sure what I ever did to you, but you need to grow the fuck up and get over yourself because it’s pathetic.” I remain in the same spot, not backing down. “I loved Trevor. I still love him, even though he’s no longer here.”
She slightly flinches and looks away.
“I’ve had a hell of a time grieving over him. You never even bothered to check up on me or on Riley—your niece—even when I tried calling you. You didn’t just let us down, but you let him down too, and he’d be so fucking disappointed in you.”
Her eyes are watery now, so I stand straight again and take a deep breath.
She lost a brother that night, and if things were different, we could have been there for each other—but they weren’t, and I don’t think they ever will be.
“I’m sorry you lost him too, and I hope one day you can find it in yourself to be a decent person.”
With that, I step away, feeling some of the tension leave my chest. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to release it until I faced her. She’s the one in his family who’s always tested my patience, and now that I’ve said what I needed to say, I can finally let go of at least one burden.
I feel her eyes burning the back of my head but I keep walking, Miles hand guiding my lower back.
“You okay?” he asks.
I look up at him and smile. “Yeah, that felt good.”
His smirk is back. “Is it wrong that turned me on?”
And just like that, I’m blushing. “Shut up, Miles,” I say as I push him.
We finally reach the ice cream store, the little brass bell above the door jingles as we step inside, the scent of waffle cones and sweet cream wrapping around me like a hug.
“Hey, Miles, good to see you,” the woman behind the counter calls out with a bright smile.
Miles tips his head toward her. “Good to see you too, Rebecca.” Then, with his hand still firm and warm on the small of my back, he gently nudges me forward.
Rebecca turns her full attention to me, her crystal-blue eyes lighting up.
She’s gorgeous with her soft dark blonde curls pulled into a ponytail beneath a pastel work hat that says SCOOP HAPPENS in playful lettering.
Her whole energy is sweet and approachable, someone who probably remembers everyone’s order and their dog’s name too.
I’ve seen her around town before, we’ve just never interacted, a few friendly smiles whenever we’ve passed each other though.
“Nice to meet you, Rebecca,” I say, offering my hand with a smile.
She reaches across the counter and shakes it warmly. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
“So…the usual, Miles?” she asks as she grabs a medium tub and a scoop, already moving toward the freezer like this is routine.
He nods. “Yeah, and a cookie dough for Vivian.”
She smiles knowingly and gets to work.
I glance up at him as he leans casually against the counter, that damn spoon already between his lips as Rebecca hands him his usual—M&M’s ice cream with a drizzle of white sauce. Of course. Classic him. Sweet with a little kick of chaos.
He turns to hand me mine and my mouth practically waters. Cookie dough, just how I like it—chunky, thick swirls, and generous with the dough bits. It looks perfect.
I reach into my bag for my wallet.
But before I can even unzip it, his hand catches mine.
“What are you doing?” he asks, the spoon still in his mouth, brows lifted like I’ve just offended him.
I blink. “Paying for my ice cream?” I glance at Rebecca for support, but she just chuckles, clearly used to this routine.
Miles shakes his head slowly, looking slightly offended. “Don’t you dare.” Then he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a few bills, and places them on the counter. “Keep the change.”
Rebecca beams. “Thanks, Miles.”
“You really thought I’d let you pay?” he says, holding the door open for me as we step back into the sun-soaked afternoon.
I shake my head, laughing softly. “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point, macho man.”
He steals a scoop from my ice cream and pops it into his mouth.
“Hey!” I reach for a scoop of his, but he lifts it just out of reach. Even on my tiptoes, I can’t get it. Goddamn, this man.
“Come on, Bambi,” he teases, looking down at me as I stretch.
I catch the mix of cookie dough and M&Ms on his breath, and I wouldn’t mind tasting it myself.
I groan, falling into step beside him as we walk. He dangles a spoon of M&M ice cream in front of my face, and I side-eye him before grabbing his hand and sucking it from his spoon in one swift move.
I give him a cheeky expression, and he smirks in return.
“She seems nice,” I say casually, hoping my tone doesn’t betray the flicker of curiosity-or okay, maybe just a dash of something else. I’m not jealous. Not exactly. Just…observant.
Miles glances over at me with a crooked smile, his brow raised like he knows exactly what I’m doing. “Are you jealous, Bambi?”
The way he says it—low and smug, like he’s enjoying this a little too much—makes me roll my eyes.
“No,” I say firmly, scooping another bite of ice cream all nonchalant.
He laughs, the sound low and satisfied. “She’s just a friend. One of Dahlia’s childhood friends, actually. The three of us kind of grew up around each other for a bit.” He pauses, then adds, “Unfortunately, Dahlia and Rebecca haven’t really spoken since she moved to the city with her fiancé.”
“Oh.” My shoulders drop a little. “That’s sad.”
He nods, his gaze going a little distant as we reach the car. “Yeah…it is. I don’t know what happened, really. I asked Dahlia once and she shut it down quickly. Couldn’t tell if it was her stubbornness or because she was hurt.”
That makes sense. I’ve been there, the kind of silence that’s less about peace and more about protection.
“Hopefully one day they can work it out,” I say, sliding into the truck. “I couldn’t imagine not being friends with Mindy. She’s my platonic soulmate.”
Miles laughs. “I can tell. You both get this electric energy when you are around each other.”
I nod, licking the last of my spoon. “There are people who just…get you. Instantly. Without even trying, and she’s one of them.”
He hums, tapping the wheel with his thumb like he’s thinking about something. Or maybe holding something back.
I glance over. “What?”
He just shakes his head, lips tilting into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing.”
But something lingers in the air, heavy with words unspoken and questions I’m not sure I want the answers to just yet, so after a few seconds of looking into his eyes, I turn on his radio and we’re on our way to the lake.