He hit what had to be the back button.
“Avery Easton,” he said slowly. “Were you googling me?”
An obnoxious question, given the answer was staring at him.
“Yes,” she said. “I, um… It was the first time. I’ve never done it.”
“The first time, right.” He let out a self-satisfied snort.
She sat up straighter, determined not to let him get the better of her.
“Don’t pretend you’re innocent,” she said. “You’re remarkably up-to-date on me. I’ve avoided you all this time. Sure, I caught little updates here and there, but I didn’t have the big picture and… Can we not do this now? I mean, seeing each other again is hard enough.”
Embarrassment got the better of her. She swiveled the chair away from him. Her situation gave new meaning towanting to crawl out of your own skin.
“If you want to see me shirtless, ask,” he said. “I’m a nice guy. I’d do that for you.”
Avery covered her eyes again, hoping he’d disappear. She felt certain he’d flashed hisInfernosmirk again.
“Please don’t make this worse,” she half-begged, half-groaned. “Can you leave? Please?”
Silence, footsteps, and the once-familiar scent of warm pine after an August rain. Miles smelled so good, she imagined him after a shower, a white towel wrapped around his waist. The abs from that football photo. Warm skin, a little damp. He used to jump in bed with her after his post-run shower and snuggle into her. What a wonderful way to wake up.
Her chair spun a quarter turn. She peered through her fingers, took a deep breath, and dropped her hands. There was Miles, on one knee, concern filling his chestnut eyes. Avery’s breath hitched. That backward baseball cap. He no longer resembled his red carpet Google search results. He looked like he hadthat summer.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t be upset. It’s funny.”
Avery rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a cafeteria. He couldn’t pick whatever emotion he wanted.
“Do you know how many times I’ve googled you?” he whispered, as if he understood. “I’ve never—”
Montressa’s back door blew open, and in walked Lily. Miles stood and his arms fell straight down his sides, as if he’d done something he’d been warned about.
Avery sighed through gritted teeth before standing to greet Lily. He’d never what? Maybe he’d never googled her, or maybe he had. She wanted to know.
“Great news.” Lily opened her arms. “Sam’s out of surgery and doing well. He’s going to be okay.”
Miles hugged Lily, their shoulders dropping with the release of their collective worry. Lily hugged Avery next. As the two friends separated, Lily assessed Avery with a furrowed brow.
“Your face is red. Did he upset you?” She pointed at Miles.
Avery hoped Miles would save her from further embarrassment by not mentioning the googling to Lily.
“It was nothing.” Avery rubbed Lily’s arm. “Silly things.”
Over Lily’s shoulder, Avery noticed the breeze had nudged the door to the circular drive open a crack and snagged the opportunity for a break from her friend’s inquiry. As she walked over to shut it, a wet, black nose peeked around the edge of the doorframe and Sam Cooper’s snow-white golden retriever came into view. Upon seeing Avery, his tail beat against the door. His eyes had aged in the last ten years, but his puppy enthusiasm remained.
“Aw, Casper.” She leaned down, welcoming the wet kisses on her face. “You remember me.”
Casper placed a paw on her arm and whined. He pranced over to the front desk to sniff where Avery had been sitting. Lily was still assessing her with a furrowed brow and set jaw.
“Miles,” Lily said.
He’d returned to the front desk, his attention buried in the computer. The quick movement of his fingers on the trackpad, clicking and scrolling, probably searching for a reservation system. His brow furrowed deeper with each failed folder.
“Miles Magrum.”
His head jerked up at the sound of Lily’s terse teacher’s voice.
