“No.” I don’t expand on it. What more is there to say? In all these years, he hasn’t been back, and now that he is, it’s not to see me, or even his ma, as he said it is, but much more likely because he heard a bunch of famous Hollywood people are hanging about.
“I’m glad I found you,” Miles says, maybe sensing that I don’t want to talk anymore about Finn. “The shoot is going to another location for about a week, maybe more.”
My back prickles, and suddenly the couch feels too small for us both. I get up to put another log on the fire, the wood rough under my fingertips. “Oh. Where are you going?”
“Just around Glen Coe and the other side of the loch.” Miles sits up, and his face lights up like a kid at Christmas time. “You could come.”
I smile because his enthusiasm is adorable, but I shake my headand sit on the rug near the fire. “No, I can’t. How exactly would we keep”—I point to me and then to him—“this secret if I’m tagging along with you on shoots?”
“I could hire you.”
“Um, no.”
Miles laughs. “Not like that. As my dialect coach. They have an extra room booked because Jake was supposed to be here.”
“Wouldn’t that look suspicious?”
Miles shrugs. “Probably. But who cares?”
Miles joins me on the rug and takes my hand in his. His hands are so large, his fingers long. He intertwines them with mine. “I don’t want to not see you for a whole week.”
My stomach clenches like I’m preparing to be hit square in the stomach. Because I am. How much longer does the shoot have altogether? I think Miles told me once they were supposed to wrap before Christmas. It’s almost December. And we can’t even go a week without seeing each other? How’s it going to feel when he skips back off to America, back to his LA life with clear blue swimming pools, fancy cocktail parties, and beautiful women literally everywhere he goes?
I take my hand back. “I can’t. I have a life here, you know. I can’t drop everything just to go watch you work. I need to finish my book, and I have responsibilities.” I stand up and go over to my desk to open my laptop.
“I didn’t mean…” Miles sighs. “I just thought it might be fun. I know you have a life.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, and I move so that it falls off.
“I’m going to miss you. We leave in the morning. I’ll try to find you before then.”
I make a noncommittal mmm-hmm.
“Skye, I lo?—”
My heart catches in my throat. Is he going to say that he loves me? I will him not to continue. I’ll never be able to keep my nerve if he says the L word.
“I’ll miss you.”He kisses my shoulder and leaves without another word.
This will be good for us. It’ll be like a stepping stone to when he actually leaves. Like sipping a light beer after a month-long whiskey bender.
MILES
Skye won’t look at me when I leave her to her writing. I didn’t mean to offend her by suggesting she come with me on the shoot. And Ireallydidn’t mean to almost say “I love you.”
What was I thinking? The words were tumbling out on their own, but I stopped myself. After our agreement on what our relationship is, it wouldn’t have been wise. But when has anyone ever accused me of being that? Never.
It was selfish to ask her to come with me on the shoot. I just don’t want to be without her for a whole week or possibly more. It’s ridiculous, I suppose. At the end of this month, we will have to part ways, and if a week feels like an eternity, what will our final goodbye feel like?
Maybe it doesn’t have to be final. We could do long-distance. Or Skye might want to come to LA. Although with how she reacted to a week away from her life, that doesn’t seem likely.
My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s Jake.
“Jake. How’s your leg?”
“It’s healing. But I’m so bored. I got the video games you sent, though. They are currently saving my sanity. How’s jolly old Scotland?”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t call it that.”
