Page 57 of Meet Me at the Loch


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Skye’s cheeks turn bright pink. “Was I?”

“Well, I saved a couple, and Jake found them for me. Well, actually Jake’s sister.”

Skye lets out a heavy breath. “Oh no.”

I nod. “Oh yes!”

“No. No. No.”

“Let me read you my favorite.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Dear Miles,

My name is Skye, and I live in Scotland. Have you ever been here? It’s beautiful. You should definitely come. I love your movies, and I feel like even though we’ve never met, we have a real connection. Like something they write songs about, like that Beatles song “Across the Universe.” It feels like that, except if we met, I feel like it would change my world. Both our worlds. Anyway, if you’re ever in Scotland, look me up.Skye.”

Skye has gone completely still. I reach over and squeeze her leg. “You weren’t wrong.”

“It’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s sweet.”

She shakes her head. “Do you remember what you sent back?”

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow. When she sent this, I was at the height of all theUndercover Quarterback fame. It had definitely gone to my head.

“I think I sent a headshot.”

“Uh-huh. Do you remember what you signed?”

I close my eyes, wishing I had been more clever, or more humble, or more real. “Coo-Coo-Ca-Choo Babe.”

“I still have it.”

“No! Shit. I was stupid. In my defense, I was only nineteen.”

She nods but doesn’t take her eyes off the road.

I place a hand on her thigh. “Well, it meant something to me.”

“Can we never, ever talk about it ever again?”

“Ever?”

“Miles.”

“Okay.” I zip my lips and put away my phone.

After another two hours, a quick stop for lunch, another stop for groceries, and some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen, we arrive at our tiny cabin. It is in a large field overlooking a massive loch, with virtually no other houses nearby. The cabin itself is modern, with sleek lines, navy siding, massive windows, and a bright-yellow door. It’s a jarring contrast to the landscape that looks like hobbits may come tramping over the hill at any moment.

Inside is just as modern. High ceilings, a loft where the bed is, akitchen that looks straight out of a Crate and Barrel catalogue, a wood-burning stove, and a wall of pure glass overlooking the loch.

I start putting away the groceries.

“I’m going to change into something a little more comfortable,” Skye says with a sultry voice that brings flashes of last night back to me.

“Need any help?” I ask with a wink.