JJ barks out a laugh. “He’s harmless.”
“I don’t know. He seems pretty charming.”
“Your sister is a smart girl. She’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she will. I honestly don’t hate the idea of her datingsomeone. Just no double dates.”
“That, I will agree with.”
We get off the phone a few minutes later with plans to meet for lunch tomorrow at the diner. I didn’t want the call to end, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him either. The ball is in his court, but I need to hold my ground too. I know what I want, but is that what he wants too?
I can forgive him for what happened because I don’t think it was intentional. He’s been carrying so much for so long that he didn’t know how to handle it. He was doing the only thing he knew. Yes, he did break my trust, and I won’t trust him so easily, but he can earn it back, if he really wants to.
Tomorrow is a big day. Hopefully it brings good things.
Chapter 34
JJ
I’m nervous about seeing Miles and I don’t know why. I never was before, and I’m not sure what’s changed to make me nervous now.
I pull up to the diner thirty minutes early, not wanting to be the one to walk in and get the stare-down or the awkward greeting. Except when I open the door, I see him sitting in the same spot we were in last time. I laugh to myself as I make my way to the table and sit.
Miles looks up from his phone, confused, but then a soft smile crosses his lips. His eyes brighten, and his shoulders relax. I have that effect on him.
“Guess we both had the same idea,” I say lightly.
He smiles wider. “Guess so. How are you?” he asks.
“Good. You?”
“You look good,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine.
“So do you,” I say, and we stare at each other with goofy smiles on our faces for way too long.
“Can I get you anything to drink, hon?” the waitress asks me. Miles already has a water in front of him.
“Water is fine, thank you.” She nods and walks off. “Do you know what you’re getting?” I ask Miles.
“Banana pancakes.”
“It’s lunch.”
“They serve breakfast all day.”
“Oh, hey, JJ. Haven’t seen you here in a while.” It’s Martha, the waitress who’s been working here since the day it opened forty years ago. She’s wiping down the table beside us.
“Been busy with work,” I say.
“And it’s a good thing,” she says with a nod as she walks off.
“I forgot you come here often,” Miles says.
“It’s close to the firehouse and better than pizza. I swear all those guys want to eat is pizza.”
“I mean… I get it. I love pizza.”
I roll my eyes.
