Page 63 of Tourist Trap

Anger is flooding my system as I take a step away, grabbing my water bottle and hefting my bag over my shoulder.

“You’re like every other man, Miles. Happy to let a woman sit safe in the corner, play games of will he, won’t heuntil you see another man try and play with your toy. Except I’m not a toy, Miles. I’m a woman, and I’m not the kind of woman who waits around for someone to make a move.”

I can’t be here right now. I can’t stare at him and feel the all-consuming desire for him twining with disappointment that we’ll never be anything more than a desire he won’t give into.

“You know,” I say when he doesn’t add anything as I move toward the door, with him following me as I do. “I thought you’d finally tell me the truth, but here we are.” I take another step backward, giving him a sad smile I can’t force myself to hide. “It’s just more of the same bullshit.”

And then I’m out the door.

* * *

Almost twelve hours later, it’s painfully clear I shouldn’t have gone on this date.

Not because Miles told me not to, because fuck him, but because the man sitting across from me isintolerable. I’ve been sitting here for a total of fifteen minutes, ten of which he has spent talking about himself, his job, and his position in expanding his firm’s presence. And has yet to ask me a single thing about myself.

“Are you from here?” I shake my head and then open my mouth to give a full answer, but he interrupts. “Good. This place is dreadful.”

“I like?—”

“I can’t wait to leave this town in the fall,” he says, lifting a glass, and my brow furrows. “My father has me overseeing another project in North Jersey starting in September. Where will you be in the fall?”

I’m almost shocked he knows how to ask questions about other people that require more than a yes or no, if I’m being honest.

“My family is in Evergreen Park. I’ll probably find a new job up that way.” Something I try to ignore twists at the idea of it, at the thought of leaving Seaside Point.

“Ah, Evergreen Park, that’s a nice area. You know, I spearheaded a campaign to—” He starts going on again about some project he worked on for Baker Brothers, and I smile tightly, nodding as I do.

I get a reprieve from his bragging about himself and his job and blah blah blah when we get our drinks. Grateful, I take a large sip because I can feel it’s going to be a long ass night.I’m contemplating going to the bathroom to send an SOS to June when he asks me the second question of the night.

“So, how do you know Miles Miller?”

My head tips to the side, a bit confused. “Miles?” I say the name, feeling that stab in my chest once more.

“Yeah, he’s interrupted us a few times now.” I guess he would see it like that. “How do you know him?”

“Oh, uh,” I start. “He’s best friends with my best friend’s brother. I actually dated his brother for a bit.” I don’t know why I added that last part, and I instantly regret it because I don’t want to talk about Miles or Paul tonight. I just wanted a few hours where my mind wasn’t completely wrapped up in Miles, and here I am, talking about him.

“But you two aren’t together anymore?”

I shake my head. “No, we broke up, but I came down to Seaside Point for the summer to hang out with June, and Miles had a room for rent. It was nice being able to stay with someone who wasn’t a total stranger.”

Brad nods like he understands. I hope that’s the end of that, but I quickly find it is not.

“What does your ex think about that?”

My jaw tightens before I answer. “I wouldn’t know, him being my ex and all.” A creeping feeling starts to move through me at his interest in Miles and Paul, and alarm bells are ringing loudly.

“Don’t they talk?”

“I don’t know,” I say, clipping the words short. “I honestly don’t really talk about my ex much.” My bluntness takes him off-kilter.

“Oh, oh, of course. Sorry, I just find small-town drama so interesting, you know?”

I give him a tight smile, once more wishing I hadn’t been so fucking stubborn to go on this date. And even worse, why did I have to choosehim? The most obnoxious, self-absorbed man on the beach.

I know the answer, of course, is because of the reaction it got out of Miles the first time he saw Brad in my vicinity and my undying need to get a reaction. I wish Miles was less of an idiot, less stubborn and uptight, and could just admitthere is something between us.

But instead, I’m stuck holding my ground right down the beach from him. I look over my shoulder at the house, where I wish I were cozied up on the deck reading a book or laughing with Miles, interested to see if the lights are on and if he’s home, or if he left.

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