Delete, delete, delete. Sounds too corporate.
Me: You up?
Delete! What is this, a booty call?
What do I want to say? I want him to know that I’m not upset anymore about the whole paparazzi thing. That it's safe for him to come back without enduring my wrath.
Me: Hope the research is going well. I just wanted to say, I know it’s not your fault about the whole picture thing. I’m sorry.
I read it over and over, delete the last two words, then hit Send.
I’m about to plug my phone in when three dots appear. They disappear, then reappear.
Miles: Thank you for understanding. For what it’s worth, you did really look incredible.
My stomach flips. His words at the dinner table play in my head for the millionth time.Stunning.
Me: You didn’t look half bad yourself.
Delete! Who am I? The only things missing from that statement is a cigarette hanging out the side of my mouth, a martini in one hand, and an eyebrow waggle.
Me: What have you been up to?
I send it. What am I? Twelve now? Really sophisticated conversation.
Miles: Monster hunting :)
I can picture his face, lit up like when he was petting Bessie, and I smile.
Me: When are you headed back this way?
I’m about to hit Send when another text comes in.
Miles: I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, if you’d like?
Me: Can’t wait.
I put away my phone before I can judge my last text, because while it may not be the most eloquent thing I’ve ever written, it is absolutely true.
The next morning,the words fly from my fingers. The desire is back. Maybe it was the feedback from the girls, but I know that’s not true.
Miles will be back today.
I sail through my chores and take extra care getting dressed, even putting on proper makeup—not just my usual swipe of mascara and halfhearted comb through my hair.
Miles will be back today!
I’m just about to get on my bike for my morning ride when my watch buzzes. The tourism board is calling. It must be Logan.
“Hello.”
“Skye, you owe me big-time,”Logan says.
In the distance, I see a figure walking steadily toward me, in dark jeans and a cream fisherman’s sweater. Tall, dark, and handsome—that saying was invented for Miles Casey.
“Skye, are you there?”
“Yes. I’m here. Lost connection for a moment.” To earth. “What did you say?”
