Miles ran his teeth over his lower lip, as if gathering the courage to say something. He’d done that right before he asked her out the first time, before he’d kissed her, and again right after she’d told him she loved him.
“I bought the Red House.”
The air left her body. At nineteen, that had been her dream house. He’d heard her ideas for it as they’d sunbathed on the floating dock, planning a future that never came. He could have given her a second to absorb this news. Instead, he waited for a reaction.
“The A-frame?”
He nodded and she gulped down the bitter taste of acceptance. Since she’d never returned to the lake, she’d given up claim. But she never thought Miles would take it for himself.
Out on the point, the Red House’s triangular roof glistened in the sun. The spruce green pines behind it complemented the fresh crimson paint. Large boxes sat on a pallet by the front door, partly covered by a blue tarp, its edge flapping in the breeze. Solar panels covered half of the roof. She put her hand to her heart to steady the betrayal moving through her chest.
“You should see it.” He smiled like he’d won a prize at a carnival. “Come for dinner. Tomorrow. Six.”
It was a dreamy Maine lakeside cabin, an A-frame straight out of a hot cocoa ad, nestled among the tall pines, with a big porch and a long dock made for getting a running start before jumping off the end. She’d always wondered if it was equally as quaint on the inside, but she couldn’t hand him a reprieve for their very public breakup. Or the ten years of silence.
As if reading her thoughts, Miles cleared his throat. “Our best friends are engaged, and it’d be nice if we could be in the same room and not be…”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
Not be what? Mad at the guy who left her crestfallen and crying in a parking lot?
“We should talk,” he said. “About us.”
He stared out over the water.
“About us?” She waited for him to make eye contact. “There’s no us, Miles. You made sure of that.”
He shifted on his feet and dug his hands into his pockets.
“That summer,” he said.
A sour taste rose in Avery’s throat. A decade ago, he’d walked away with his dignity intact, leaving her crumpled on the pavement. When she’d finally stood, long after he drove off, there were tiny pebbles embedded in her knees. Hearing him call itthat summerwas an emotional gut punch.
“I’d like to move past it,” he said.
Of course he would. He’d ruined it.
Avery recited the words she’d practiced hundreds of times in the mirror, still unsure she believed them. “Listen, I granted your wish and gave you space. Ten years of space. And I do not need to see your house.”
“But you want to.” He smiled in slow motion, one side of his mouth lagging behind the other.
Teasing her about the house he’d stolen from her was both infuriating and seductive. Those chestnut eyes widened as if he knew exactly what she wanted. Hoping to silence the traitorous thrum radiating down her middle, Avery reminded herself they’d never been friends.
“You can leave.” Again, she shooed him away. “Go back to New York. I’ve got this.”
Miles straightened and made himself taller, which only made him more alluring. She didn’t remember his chest being so broad, or his arms being so muscular. He’d changed in the last decade.
“Well, if you think you can open this hundred-acre resort in a month with your lists and that sweet southern accent, I won’t stand in your way,” he said. “Especially if I get you so up into your feelings that you can’t handle having me around.”
Avery bristled at his massive ego. Her accomplishments were more than lists and southern charm.
“Don’t you dare insinuate I can’t do a job I once did or run a business,” she said, pointing at the lodge. “I founded and sold a successful stationery company. For a lot of money. I got into a top ten business school, and I’m starting my MBA at Dartmouth in the fall.”
Miles’s playful demeanor grew sullen. His gaze fell to the dock planks.
“It’s been a decade, Miles.” She pointed at the lodge. “You can’t waltz up like some kind of athleisure local hero, expose your forearms, and invite me to dinner expecting forgiveness.”
When he didn’t respond, she kept going.
