The drone glides through the air, sailing over the treetops as sunlight flickers across the lens.
“I’m giving you the controls again,” he murmurs near my ear. “Think you’ve got it?”
“No.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I’m right here.”
I nudge the controls forward, and the drone drifts closer to the trees.
“Miles,” I say quickly, tension creeping into my voice. “It’s not turning.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m trying to turn—oh my god, it’s not turning.” The tree rushes toward me in the display. “I’m going to crash! I’m going to ruin your drone!” Panic takes over, my voice pitching higher as I shove the joystick left and right. The drone doesn’t respond. It keeps flying straight at a pine tree. “I’m so sorry—” The apology spills out as my mind jumps straight to splintered carbon fiber. I drop the controller and rip the goggles off. Because I absolutely cannot watch the destruction of his very expensive drone. Except when I glance at him, he’s not concerned. In fact, he’s smiling. Not an “it’s okay, accidents happen” smile. A full, boyish, thoroughly delighted grin. His thumbs move smoothly over the joysticks as if this is just another routine flight and not the emotional catastrophe I just lived through. My jaw drops.
I snap my gaze to the drone—now gliding harmlessly past the pine tree—then back to him. Back to the drone. Back to Miles. Oh. Oh! “You were controlling it the whole time!” My voice climbs, betrayal and relief crashing together. “You made me think I was about to crash!”
His grin only widens. “Technically, you were controlling it.”
I narrow my eyes, even as the corners of my mouth start to betray me. “You’re such a jerk! I should throw your controller into the woods.”
He laughs, the kind that shakes his shoulders and nudges his glasses down his nose. “You were really worried about my drone. It was kind of cute.”
“Cute?” I choke out. “I was debating which kidney I’d miss less when I’d be forced to sell it on the black market so I could replace your drone. I’m sweating.” I fan myself dramatically. “You should feel my heart rate. It’s off the charts.” I grab his wrist and press his palm to my chest, right over my racing heart. He looks down at his hand, then up at me, like his brain needs a second to catch up. I let go, but his hand lingers a beat longer before he finally pulls back.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “I didn’t mean to give you heart palpitations. And if something did happen, I have insurance.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter. Because, honestly, why wouldn’t he? Miles probably has insurance for his insurance. Relief, adrenaline, and the sheer fact that I did not destroy his drone surge all at once. A laugh bursts out of me, and before my brain can catch up, I step forward and loop my arms around his neck.
He freezes for half a second before one hand settles lightly at my waist. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice a shade rougher. “So we’re… celebrating the drone’s survival.”
“Don’t make it weird,” I mumble into his shirt. It smells like clean laundry with a faint hint of cedar.
“I’m not making it weird,” he blurts, which immediately makes it weird purely because of how sincere he sounds.
A beat passes before it hits me. I’m still hugging him. We’re not the kind of people who hug. I unlock my arms and step back as if he’s on fire. Miles blinks at me, hand dropping to his side. My cheeks burn.
“Well,” I say quickly, clinging to composure, “that’s enough drone excitement for one day.” I glance over at Mom who’s popping pistachios in her mouth and smiling. Really smiling. The kind that reaches her eyes. Even bigger than the one from earlier.
After leaving the park, I drive us back to Mom’s house, and we sit together in her living room.
“Did you have a good day?” I ask.
“I had an amazing day.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for putting that together.”
I swallow.
“But what made it extra special,” she adds, “was seeing you happy again.”
“Again? I am happy.”
“Nora. You haven’t laughed that hard in years.”
I frown, because the worst part is she’s probably right. And that’s a me problem, not a her problem.
“You uprooted your life for me,” she continues. “And I know it wasn’t the plan. But today—seeing you laugh, seeing you with Miles—that meant everything.” She tilts her head. “So tell me about him.”
“Miles?” I stall. “He’s… funny. Quirky. Polite. Thoughtful. Kind of shy, but also easy to be around.”
