Once Upon a Sure Thing (Page 33)

“Good to see you too.”

“Mom, Ally taught me how to use chopsticks the other night,” Hailey says.

“That’s great,” the equally blonde and just as waif-life Jesse says with a smile.

“And Hailey, this is Miller. He taught me how to make a castle.” That’s Chloe’s contribution. She squeezes Miller’s arm, and he drapes it around her shoulders, squeezing back.

“Good to see you, Monkey.”

Jesse’s eyes stray to the man by my side. He’s wearing jeans, boots, a sweater, and a telltale sign that he’s not just a friend.

The ends of his hair are wet.

I pat his shoulder, drawing on my best cool confidence. “Miller’s a good friend.”

It feels like the truth, so help me God.

But it’s also a two-faced lie.

“Nice to meet you, Miller,” Jesse says, extending a hand, and the two shake and exchange brief pleasantries.

Jesse turns to me. “I’m sorry to bring her back so early, but I forgot I have to take Hailey to the dentist. You know how it is with winter break. You try to jam everything in. I tried to text you to let you know we’d be coming early.” She smiles sweetly. “The message must not have gone through.”

She’s the most darling woman, covering for my fuck-up. She has to know I missed the message because I was getting busy with the man I introduced as a friend.

“I must’ve missed the text,” I say with a gulp.

“No worries. I’m glad we caught you. We’ll see you again soon.” Jesse turns to Miller, then me, and lowers her voice. “Are they, or aren’t they?” she whispers, wiggling her eyebrows, and I wait for the sidewalk to open up and suck me into an underground pit of embarrassment. She returns to a normal volume. “I saw your videos. They’re so good. Like those ice dancers.” She blows out a stream of air and fans her face, as if she’s burning up.

She gives Miller one last glance. “Also, I loved you as a Heartbreaker.”

When she leaves, I’m officially a beet.

* * *

Chloe doesn’t seem to notice or care that Miller spent the night. Probably because she believes me when I lie to her, saying that he came over this morning to meet me for bagels.

The lie tastes bitter.

It’s the opposite of all the ways I’ve tried to raise this beautiful girl. When we finish our food, I gesture to the nearest subway stop. “It’s off to Brooklyn we go.”

“I’ll tag along,” Miller says. “I told Miles I’d stop by to see him and Ben before they left for London, but he’s not expecting me till the afternoon. That cool?”

“Of course.” I don’t hesitate this time—it’s a chance for me to redo the dinner invite snafu.

But I don’t know if this means anything special, or if this is just us back to the way we were, shuttling Chloe around town, having breakfast, being part of each other’s lives.

My head is a muddle. We could be one thing, we could be another. We might be friends, or maybe he’s my man. We’re this or we’re that.

I want to shut down the noise, turn off the dial on the radio. But my brain is loud and persistent, stuck between two stations, and it can’t tune in clearly to either one.

On the train, Chloe tells us about her sleepover and the fun they had. “Dr. Jane would be happy for me.”

I smile. “Of course she would.”

Chloe pumps a fist. “But I don’t have to see her again. Because I’m not a broken plate anymore.”

“You never were, Monkey.”

When we’re off the train, she practically skips to Kirby’s building. “I can’t wait to see Aunt Macy and Uncle Kirby.”

Those two titles for them make my heart bounce with delight, like a child frolicking through a field of flowers. But before she goes inside, she stops and hugs Miller. “I’m glad you’re not leaving.”

“Leaving? Where would I go?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. London, Boston. Somewhere.”

He tucks a finger under her chin. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. You’re always around, and I like it.”

A warning bell rings. I recall what she said a few nights ago, her sadness over Kirby moving to Boston. I’m glad she’s expressing her feelings. I’m thrilled she’s sharing her heart with people she cares about. That’s one of the reasons she went to see Dr. Jane in the first place. To find her voice.

But part of her expressing them means I need to hear them.

You’re always around and I like it.

That means something.

That means everything.

The chill in the air intensifies. But there’s a biting chill inside me too. I shiver painfully, my teeth chattering, as I say hello and goodbye to Macy and Kirby, telling them I’ll be back at the end of the day.

Miller and I return to the station. The grime from the platform wafts up, a nose-crinkling stew of pee and rats and garbage. The train arrives, and we step inside. As it rumbles out of the station, I heave a sigh. “That was awkward.”

“What part?”

“All of it,” I say heavily. “Jesse. Hailey. The whole thing. Could we have been any more obvious?”

“But Hailey’s mom was cool about it.”

“She was, but I was at a loss for words. I mean, what was I supposed to say? This is my friend who I screwed last night?”

He winces. “Ally.”

I drop my head into my hands and sigh. My stomach churns. My gut twists. My collar grows too tight, and everything in me squeezes, like I’m being wrung out by two hard fists.

Chloe’s words echo in my mind.

You’re always around and I like it.

But other words resonate too.

Expiration date. Friends with benefits. Make a deal.

And still more, the voice of Dr. Jane, urging Chloe to speak her mind.

I raise my face. I look at Miller, take out my sword, and prepare to do battle with reality. “When do we end?”

He flinches. “What do you mean?”

Like my heroines, I charge forward into the fray. “When do you want this to end?”

Say never. Please say never.

He swallows and nods a few times, as if he’s processing what I just asked him. When he answers, the words come out flat. “When do you want this to end?”

That’s my answer.

His isn’t a never.

His is whatever works for me.

I want so much more, and he wants only a moment.

Someone has to put her foot down. “We wanted to get this out of our system, right?”

“Right,” he says, his voice sounding emptier than I’ve ever heard it.

I swallow roughly, soldiering on. “Maybe we should go back to how we were, before it gets too hard.”

That’s what a strong girl would say. That’s what a fighter would do.

Give up what she wants for the greater good.

He scrubs a hand over his jaw, stares out the scratched window, and parts his lips to speak.

But he says nothing.

One minute passes. Then another. Finally, he nods. “Yeah, totally. That makes perfect sense. Let’s go back before it gets too hard.”

When we reach my destination, my heart is a bruised peach at the market, and everything is already too hard.

Chapter 28

Miller

I’ve got this. I’ve handled moments like this before.

Well, not exactly like this. I’ve never had my heart smashed by a wrecking ball.