He studies the pie and arches a brow. “Get hungry on the drive over?”
“I forgot to eat lunch,” I say quietly before I take the pie back.
He puts his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Well, was it good?”
“Delicious.”
I stare at the house I grew up in—the one where Milo used to toss tiny pebbles at my window, the faint tapping soundsomething I sometimes still hear when the world finally settles into a soft quietness. The one where my parents argued over whether it should be painted classic white or yellow—Mom won but the yellow turned out much brighter than she had wanted, more school bus yellow than soft buttercream. The one where there is now a ramp up to the front porch beside the steps.
“Listen, I can leave.” He practically sighs, his grin beginning to fade from his face.
It’s not that I want him to leave. I’m just not sure I want him here. Not until I figure a few things out—like why eating pie and speeding on a back road made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in years.
“Milo, I just?—”
“Sadie!” Sophie’s voice is bright and loud as she runs toward us, her long brown hair swinging back and forth. “Youdidbring a plus one!”
“I’m not?—”
“He’s not?—”
Sophie smirks, crossing her arms. “It’s good to see you,CoachCarter.”
Milo huffs a laugh. “We’ll see if I can earn that title.”
“You’ll be great,” Sophie says with confidence. Then her eyes snag on the pie. “Sadie! Did you eat the pie already?”
Somehow the whipped topping has turned to cement, and the pie feels heavy in my hands.
“It wasn’t her,” Milo interjects. “I couldn’t help it. Sadie does make the best, and it’s been so long.”
I look over at him, half grateful, half offended.
After all,I’m the one who ate dessert first.It’smylist . . .
“She’sthe best,” Sophie says, her green eyes sparking. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”
My cheeks warm. “Soph,” I whisper.
“She does,” Milo replies softly.
I attempt to shoot laser beams out of my eyes at my sister. My sister, who is already tanned and glowing like she’s been sunningherself at some luxury resort instead of working three jobs at the mall in Dallas while she’s “between” life plans. Granted, one of those jobs is at a place called Sun-Kissed Sea, so after earning her paycheck helping other people get their summer glow, she’s probably spending it on securing her own.
Sophie’s smirk stretches out into something more devious. “She’s not seeing anyone.”
The words seem loud and unfair. I open my mouth to scold her, but something else entirely comes out. “Grant Williams asked me out.”
The words feel like I threw a match just to see who would flinch.
Sophie’s eyes widen. “Did you say yes?”
I swallow hard. “Not yet.”
“You should. It’s good to keep your options open,” she says as she side-eyes Milo.
I gaze at my sandals, but I can feel the way Milo’s eyes weigh heavy on my shoulders, like a wet blanket drenching me in guilt even though I have nothing to feel guilty about. Or maybe it’s not my guilt I’m feeling?
“Supper’s ready!” Emma calls from the front porch.
