Page 8 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)

Mags

? Big God - Florence and the Machine

Miles: Gonna give me something to hold me over until then?

Maggie: What’s in it for me? Figured I’d at least have a dick pick by now.

Miles: ??

Maggie: That doesn't count.

Miles: Promise it’ll be worth the wait, little minx.

Maggie: Missed you today.

Miles: Me too, babe. How were your classes?

Maggie: Same shit, different day. What did you get up to?

Miles: Thought about you. About us.

Maggie: Yeah?

Miles: Yeah.

Maggie: Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we lived in the same town?

Miles: All the time. Would you ever consider moving to Oak Ridge to be with me?

Maggie: I’m not sure. Maybe you should send me a pic to entice me. ??

Miles: Nice try, little minx. The clothes stay on until we’re together. Then all bets are off.

Maggie: And the pants, too, I hope.

Miles: You’re a menace.

Maggie: Maybe. But I’m your menace.

W hat began as a casual, long-distance flirtation, blossomed into a flurry of daily texts and stolen moments between classes, filled with heady anticipation.

We’ve been in constant contact for almost two months, and I find my mind drifting to thoughts of him more often than I’d like to admit.

He’s got this flirty, playful energy, but more than that, he makes me feel seen in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

I often catch myself staring at my phone, willing it to light up with hi s name, as if it might magically appear.

My heart does that annoying little flip it hasn’t done in ages — ugh, what is wrong with me?

I never get swept up like this. Miles is.

.. complicated. I don’t fall hard and fast, and I certainly don’t fall for someone as emotionally unavailable as Miles.

I’ve caught glimpses of him on Paige’s FaceTime calls with Cade, but we never acknowledge each other.

We have an unspoken agreement that, where our friends are concerned, we’ve never met. It’s less complicated that way.

Maybe it’s the effect of watching my best friend fall in love in real time, or maybe it’s insanity, but, against my better judgment, I’m starting to have real feelings for Miles Barlow. He feels like someone I could build something permanent with, and I don’t do permanent.

2 weeks later

Maggie: Boarding my flight! See you soon. ??

Maggie: Just landed. Meet you at baggage claim.

Maggie: I’m here. Where are you?

Maggie: Are you okay?

I pull out my phone to double check my messages, but the last one is still unread. Where are you, Miles?

An hour passes without a word, so I decide to swipe back to the app to see if he might be online.

I need to know if he’s okay. Fuck, why do I care so much?

This was just supposed to be a “what happens in Tennessee” kind of situation.

I wasn’t supposed to care about this man.

Eve n I can admit that flying more than 800 miles for what amounts to a booty call is somewhat deranged — but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do, you know?

I guess I could text Paige to make sure he’s okay, but that would mean admitting we’ve been talking for months, and I’m not ready for the inquisition that’s sure to follow.

My heart sinks as I open the app and tap over to my matches.

His entire profile is gone. It would be like he never even existed if it weren’t for the messages still sitting in my inbox.

Gone is the casually sexy profile photo that used to reside next to his name, replaced with a faceless image and the word “Unknown” written beside it. He fucking ghosted me.

My lashes grow heavy with unshed tears, and a tight knot constricts my throat. You are not going to let some limp dick piece of shit make you cry, Maggie Watson. He’s not worth your tears.

Present day

“Why does he have such a punchable face?” I ask as Paige snickers in my periphery.

We’re all cozied up on the back deck of the cabin, taking in the gorgeous view of the lake as the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

The vibrant blue of the sky is reflected on the surface of the water as it splashes against the shore.

Cade is manning the grill while Miles talks his ear off about wood, or screws, or whatever it is contractors talk about these days.

“Punchable, or kissable?” she teases, bouncing her eyebrows suggestively.

I force a laugh. “Definitely the first one.”

“Mmmhmm. Is that why you haven’t stopped sneaking glances at him since you got here? We’re supposed to be having a good time welcoming you back to Oak Ridge. Just pretend he doesn’t exist.”

I di screetly eye the object of my ire, taking in the tight as fuck jeans that hug his ass in the most delicious way. “Kinda hard to do when he’s over there, double-cheeked up on a Sunday afternoon.”

“Ha! I knew you were ogling his ass. Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened between you two?” I recoil as the memories resurface, hitting me like a splash of cold water. It’s been two years, but the humiliation and heartbreak are still fresh in my mind.

I swallow thickly, the taste of regret lingering on my tongue.

It was a mistake to open myself up that way.

Allowing Miles to see through the cracks in my armor was a gamble, and I’d lost spectacularly.

I didn’t realize just how far I’d fallen until it was too late — until I was standing at the airport in the baggage claim, utterly alone.

Faces blurred as I scanned the crowd, hoping he’d materialize, but he never showed, and I never put myself in the position to ever feel that way again.

I shrug. “That’s a long ass story for another day.”

She eyes me suspiciously for a beat, before her face breaks into a wide smile. “Someone’s got asses on the brain.”

“This ass?” Miles pipes in, giving his bubble butt a wiggle.

“More like assholes,” I scoff.

“If you wanna see my asshole —”

Before he can get the rest of his sentence out, I cut him off. “Ew. Don’t finish that. The food smells amazing, and I’d like to have an appetite when it’s ready.”

“You know what else smells amazing…”

“Jesus fuck, Miles.” Cade slaps him on the back of the head, causing his beer to spill.

“Ah man, party foul,” Miles grumbles, his cocky grin never faltering for a second.

It’s that smile that drew me to his profile two years ago.

He reeled me in with false promises and I bought every word, hook, line, and sinker.

He might not have had a fishing photo in his profile, but I took the fucking bait he carefully laid out, and I’ m the one who paid the price when he decided I wasn’t good enough.

With everyone else distracted by dipshit’s dramatic display, I quietly excuse myself and head inside for another drink. It’s going to be a long evening.

Miles

As soon as Maggie’s out of sight, I lean closer to Cade, keeping my voice low. “How is she?”

“Careful, Miles. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually care about her.

” His teasing falls flat, our usual banter feeling too heavy at the moment.

I’ve been watching Maggie all night, and damn near every time she shifts, she winces in pain.

Despite her attempt to cover up the bruises, their faint purple outline is still visible, and the thought of what it would’ve taken to cause that kind of damage has me clenching my fists to quell the anger thrumming through my veins.

There’s a special place in hell for men who dare to put their hands on a woman.

Cade claps a hand on my shoulder, clearly sensing my inner turmoil. “She’ll be alright, man. She’s just not herself right now.”

“Yeah, I sensed that. She hasn’t even told me to fuck off yet.” I let out a quiet chuckle at my own feeble attempt at humor, but it dies on my tongue when Maggie reappears.

“ She’s right here. And you can fuck off, Miles.” I hide a smile behind my drink, casting a sidelong glance at Mags as she retakes her seat beside Paige. She holds up her middle finger with a scrunched nose and a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

Cade barks out a laugh and says, “I think our girl’s gonna be just fine.

” Our girl. The casual phrase catches me off guard, stirring up emotions I don’t care to identify.

I chug my beer, trying to shake myself out of my thoughts.

Maggie’s anger is misdirected, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep playing this game.

I know what’s at stake, but I can’t seem to muster the energy to give a single fuck about it now that she’s here.

It’s been over two years, and I’m ready to put the past behind us; I just hope it doesn’t cost me everything.

I run a hand through my hair, steeling myself for what I’m about to do.

“Hey Mags, can I talk to you for a sec?” I jerk my head towards the dock, silently urging her to follow.

She stiffens, and her brow furrows as she meets my serious gaze. “I’d rather jump into the lake.”

I shake my head. “That can be arranged. Just hear me out for a sec?”

She briefly glances at Paige who shrugs, then carefully lifts herself to standing. “Lead the way, I guess.”

We walk in silence, shoulder to shoulder. Maggie’s eyes are trained on the sky as the breeze dances off the water, eliciting a shiver. I resist the urge to pull her into me — the gesture seeming too familiar given our history.

Stopping at the end of the dock, Maggie pauses, exhaling sharply before she turns to face me. “What do you want, Miles?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look. About what happened —”

She presses her palm to my torso, halting my speech with that one touch. “No.”

I probably shouldn’t be surprised by her steadfast refusal to hear me out, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting. “No?”

“I can’t do this with you. I don’t have it in me to go another round.” I flinch at the insinuation; tension flaring.

“Wow. Ok.” My voice is sharper than I intend, but I can’t seem to rein it in. “Fuck me, I guess.” The harsh words taste like acid on my tongue, and I wish I could take them back when I see the flash of hurt in her eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.

“W hat do you want me to say? That everything’s fine? It’s not . I’m not . ” She tilts her head to the sky, exhaling a long breath. “It’s been two fucking years, Miles. Let it go.”

“Don’t you wish we could move on? We can’t keep avoiding this conversation.”

For a second, I see a glimmer of openness in her eyes, a crack in her defenses, but then it’s gone, replaced by a familiar wall of reserve. Fuck, she’s so strong. Even when she doesn’t have to be.

I cling to that fragile thread of connection — that tiny spark of hope — letting it soothe the sharp, burning sting of rejection.

I want to tell her everything — the app, the betrayal, all of it — but I can’t if she’s not ready to hear it.

She has to be ready because once the truth is out, it’ll change everything .

I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, torn between the fierce need to protect her and the desire to fix what’s been broken between us.

I’ve had two years to come to terms with her hatred for me, but time hasn’t lessened my longing.

After what feels like an eternity, Maggie speaks, her lyrical voice catching on the breeze with four simple words that shatter my resolve. “I can’t do this.”