Page 82 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

“Yeah. And I absolutely remember. I might have only been five, but it kinda becomes a core memory when your mama is hollering at your daddy ‘what if he’s been bear food, Patrick?’”

Milo sputters out another laugh, and I join in, unable to hold back. My impression of my mother is spot-on, the panic she was feeling all those years ago funny now that we know Milo and Brandt were not bear food. Instead, they were holed up in a secret hideaway, with an illegal still, drunk off their first ever batch of moonshine.

“Fair enough. It’s been…a long damn time since I’ve done any of that. Should probably start up again.”

“That’s all I’m saying.”

“Then again, I could just make you my hobby.”

Milo winks, shit-eating grin taking over his face, as if he thinks he just set my panties on fire. To be fair, he did. But I’m not going to let him know it.

“What? Just do me?”

“Yup.”

Yes, please…

“I mean, you could…”

“I plan to.”

“But what if I don’t stay?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can think twice. And they aren’t near as flirty as I intend. If anything, they throw an ice-cold bucket of water on the whole conversation.

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. Really, truly said it. Acknowledging the elephant in the room.

Well, maybe it’s not an elephant. But an inconvenient end table.

“Things progressing with the Well Nest?”

I nod. “I had a video interview with them. They want me to come down and see the site, but from the sounds of it, as long as I pass, the job is mine.”

“That’s great.”

“I guess. I also heard from Big Box Store USA again yesterday,” I say, trying to be casual, yet mocking, of the retail giant I really don’t want to go work for.

“Yeah? What’d they say?” he asks, reaching across the table, taking my hand.

I shrug, running my fingertips along the callus on the underside of his knuckles, enjoying the roughness. It’s such a juxtaposition to the softness that I see in Milo, while still being a testament to all his hard work. Seeing both sides of him, getting to be this close, it’s hard not to fall for him.

Especially since I think I might already have.

“Once again reiterating that they are looking for pharmacists, so once I pass the boards, if I’m interested, they could place me in a store anywhere in the country.”

“Anywhere?”

I nod. “Anywhere. From the sounds of the email, I would give them my top three choices, and they would try to place me close to one of them. California, Texas, Maine, the Midwest, you name it.”

“You want to go to Maine?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Maine sounds cold. As does the Midwest. We know how I feel about the cold. And I’m pretty sure I would hate California.”

Milo laughs. He can’t really argue with my assessment, because we both know that I’m spot-on. I went to visit him and Brandt once while they were at Colorado State. It was during the winter, since my parents thought it would be fun for us to take a cold weather vacation and do some snow activities. I quickly learned, even at nine, that I am not a snow and cold kind of girl. I spent most of that vacation trying to find an excuse to go inside, and if I couldn’t, then I was glued to whichever family member was willing to share their body heat with me.

Coincidentally, it was often Milo. Even then, he was my person.

“But, Mell is in Texas, at least for now. And they have stores all over Georgia, so, there’s that,” I add.