I check my phoneagain,hoping to see a message from Milo. He’d texted this morning, offering to come by to paint with Mom, but after I let him know she wasn’t going to be able to today, he never replied.
We ended things on good terms yesterday, or so I’d thought.
We played a few more rounds of truth or dare, nothing too salacious, until we saw a shooting star. After that, Milo pointed out the constellations for me one by one, looking up at the night sky as if it were a past lover. For the most part, I just stared at his hand, wondering how mine might fit inside of it.
When I eventually dozed off, he sweetly woke me up with a chaste kiss to the forehead before helping me carry my things up to the house.
But, after that, it took an awkward turn. I think neither of us knew how to end the evening within the confines of whatever our dynamic is, orwillbe, and instead of saying that, we both stood around waiting for the other to speak. Eventually, Milo gingerly placed the lantern on the steps of my parents’ back porch, bowed with his hands deeply shoved into his pockets, and walked off toward the main road without a word.
I didn’t overthink it at the time. But I am now.
Is he regretting agreeing to my suggestion? I thought, honestly, he’d be a little more eager to show me the ropes. At least a flirty text or two or a plan to see each other. Maybe I’m expecting too much.
Just then, the door chimes as a striking man in work boots and a flannel button-down shirt walks in. He has thick, dark hair, a full beard, and eyes that are far too familiar to make him anyone but Milo’s older brother, Nik.
He bypasses me without a glance my way, walking with purpose toward the fridges.
When I dare another peek in his direction, he’s lost half of his arm to the refrigerator, trying to reach the carton at the back. We don’t stock them in order of expiry date, but it would feel mean to tell him that now.
After he collects his few groceries, Nik makes his way toward the check-out counter. I smile politely as he lays out his items for me, instead of just placing the basket down for me to unpack, like the nonlocals do. He smiles back, then stifles a yawn. Probably because of the newborn baby he’s just brought home that I shouldmaybenot know about…
I don’t know if I should address him by name or congratulate him or act none the wiser.
I should know, having been raised in this relentlessly nosy small town. I never liked when someone knew my business without me having told them. But throw in the your-brother-and-I-have-got-a-weird-thing-going-on element and this feels like new, strange territory.
“Good afternoon,” I say at theexactmoment Nik says, “You’re Prue, right?”
“Yeah, hi,” I answer, nodding as I type the cost of a can of peaches into the register. I continue to add his items as he glancesaround the shop, periodically and hesitantly smiling at me. “And you’re Nik?”
“Yeah, hi,” he returns, looking up to the red arrow sign hanging above the desk. “I heard you came by with Milo the other day to help when my wife went into labor. Thank you.”
I hit enter, and the register adds to his total amount as I pick up his loaf of bread and place it at the top of the paper bag. “You don’t have to thank me.” I slide the bag across the counter. “It’s what neighbors do, right?”
The spark is there, but quieter. The curious, teasing smirk that Milo so often has loudly dancing across his features is far more subdued on his older brother. “Right…Neighbors.”
“$42.12,” I tell him.
“I’m going to level with you…” he says, handing me his credit card to swipe. “My wife sent me here with what I’m certain is a list of items we donotneed, so I could invite you over for dinner. She told me to say that the invitation was a thank-you for helping with the kids while we were out but, between us, I think we both know that’s bullshit. She wants, well, webothwant, to meet the woman who’s got my little brother all twisted up in knots.” He pauses, scratching at his beard as he looks at the candy on the counter, and tosses a chocolate bar my way. “With that being said, would you like to?”
I stare at him blankly, reaching for the candy bar.
“Come over for dinner?” he asks, nodding as if I should begin doing so as well.
“I, um—” I stop, remembering that I’ve yet to hear from Milo since this morning. “I think I should ask Milo first, to see if he’s…” My voice trails off as I punch in the cost of his chocolate. “$45.62”
“If he’s ready for you to meet us?” he finishes for me as he points to the credit card already in my hand.
“Yeah, something like that.” I run his credit card through and slide it across the counter toward him.
“Well, you’ve already met me and survived Nadia.” He smiles crookedly, slipping his card into his wallet before folding it and placing it into his back pocket. “Sef is the only one Milo would probablywantyou to meet.”
“I just—” God, I’mreallyabout to say this. “I haven’t heard from him today and we—”
Nik’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. “He’s not blown you off, right?”
“No,” I say confidently. “Well,” I add, less so. “Oh my god, this is a very inappropriate conversation to have with you right now,” I mumble, more so to myself as Nik reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and puts it on speaker as a ringing tone begins. “Wait,no,is that—?” I’m interrupted by the sound of the call being picked up.
“Mi, hey,” Nik says.
