Page 47 of Ember Meadow
We are standing face to face with Miles.
Angry Miles. My least favorite version.
“Hey man, good to see ya,” Parker immediately lights up at the sight of his best friend, but still doesn’t step away from me. Miles’s eyes settle right on his arm that’s around me for a beat too long. Then, as if remembering himself, he clears his throat.
“What are you two doing here?” Miles’s voice comes out a little shaky, as if it’s the first time he’s said anything today.
“Just a morning coffee date,” Parker replies. Either he’s not picking up on the vibe Miles is sending out, or he’s purposely ignoring it. “I didn’t know you were gonna be in town, you could have come with us.”
“Off day,” Miles grumbles. “Gotta go to the bank.”
“Right on. Well, we won’t keep you. Come on fiancee,” Parker says, finally taking his arm off of my shoulders only to grab my hand instead, pulling me towards his truck.
Miles spins around on a dime after we walk past him. “What?” He spits out.
“Have fun at the bank, Autry,” I wink at him. His nostrils flare as he opens his mouth to say something else, but Parker is already opening my door and I’m hopping into his truck like we do this every day.
Parker slides into the driver’s seat still laughing. “That was fun. Do you think he’s gonna pop a blood vessel?”
I smack him on the arm. “You’re evil. Isn’t he supposed to be your best friend?”
Parker shrugs, pulling his truck onto the road. “Sometimes people need a little push to know what’s good for them, Katie. Plus, I might be his closest friend, but I’ll never be his peace. Gotta keep him on his toes.”
“Next time we should kiss a little, really sell it.” I can just imagine his face.
“Now you’re thinking,” Parker smirks as we drive away, Miles shrinking in the rear view mirror, still standing in the same spot we left him in.
Chapter 17
Decorating Duty
Crack.
Boom.
Boom.
I clutch my keys in a fist as I slowly creep through the hallway of the Old Cabin towards the ear-splitting noise coming from the kitchen. Today is Saturday. The crew isn’t here, there are no cars parked outside, and I refuse to let myself think it’s some sort of ghost burglar.
It’s a raccoon. It has to be. I must have left a window open overnight or something, and a wild animal got in to rummage through my garbage can.
Would a raccoon make such loud noises? No, it must be a bear. No need to freak out, I’ll just take a quick look, see what it is, then sneak back out and call animal control–
My breath catches as I round the corner. I’m met with the sight of Miles’s bare back as he kneels on the floor of the kitchen with a huge metal mallet in his hands. The toned muscles in his shoulder blades are more defined as he swings the hammer onto the floor, breaking the brittle boards with a loudcrack.
Calm down, Katie, you’ve seen Miles shirtless plenty of times.
But not like this. Not for a long time. Back then, he wasn’t covered in tattoos like stamps on a postcard of his life. I’m dying to ask about them. What they all mean, if they mean anything at all. When he got them. If he has any others. It seems like every time I see him, I notice a new one. Like the small sparrow on his shoulder blade I’m staring way too intently at right now.
“What the fuck are you doing, Autry?” I fold my arms over my chest.
He halts immediately, mallet raised up in the air. Our gazes lock as he looks over his shoulder at me. His expression goes from startled, to confused, to warm and I almost melt into the broken floor on the spot.
“What do you mean?” He turns around, setting the mallet gently on the already crushed floorboards.
I gesture to the gaping hole in the floor in front of him. “I mean what are you doing here on a Saturday crushing my floor to bits?” He laughs, brushing off his hands. He’s still only wearing jeans, boots and a baseball cap turned backwards on his head. “And put a shirt on, would you?”
“Why,” he smirks, “Is this bothering you?”
