Page 11 of Paint Our Song

“Did you turn your car around for me?” Calvin asks.

No point in lying, really. “Yeah, but it’s not a big deal.”

He takes a deep breath. “Here’s fine. I’ll walk.”

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

“For fuck’s sake. Stop the car, Miles.”

“Okay, okay.” Having someone from Cloverlily actually remember his name would be a feat, but the frustrated way Calvin says it is truly a punch to the gut. A somewhat hysterical laugh bubbles out of Miles as he pulls over.

“What’s so funny?”

He shrugs, forcing down another laugh. “It’s not everyday I offer to do something nice for someone and they get angry at me for it. Is this about me shouting your name in the lobby? That was a mistake. You know I wasn’t trying to piss you off on purpose, right?”

Calvin stiffens. His hand freezes above the seat belt buckle, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything. Then he drops his hand back to his lap, and he sighs, leaning back against the seat. “No, it’s not about that. Sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“Not at all,” he lies. He’s not sure what to do next. Miles waits to see if Calvin will actually leave.

“Bad day. Weeks, actually. I apologize.”

“It’s okay.” Miles smiles, and unexpectedly, Calvin returns it, even if weakly. And that’s… new. He feels as if someone’s rear-ended his car, and Miles takes a moment to recompose himself. He clears his throat and says, “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Miles. My family owns the inn you’re staying in, and I painted your first album cover.”

That earns him a chuckle, even if it’s a very quiet one. “Calvin,” he says, simply. “How about I go with you to the bank? That way, you don’t have to drive all the way back.”

Oh?

Miles blinks. “It’s seriously no problem.”

“I don’t want to go back so soon, anyway. It’s my fault. I should’ve driven my car. Do you mind if I tag along with you?”

Miles realizes, surprisingly, that he doesn’t mind at all. So much for his grand plan of backing off. “I need to go to Brown Sugar, too. It’s a cafe downtown. Need to pick up some stuff for the inn.”

“Sure.”

“Oh. Well. Okay.”

Silence.

“Do you want me to drive?” Calvin asks. He smiles, and again Miles forgets how to act.

“No,” he says, face heating.

Miles is checking his side-mirror when Calvin shifts and reaches under his leg, and pulls out a pair of socks—one white, one gray. Calvin raises his eyebrows.

“Sorry!” Miles grabs them and tosses them to the back, his face heating again. In his defense, he didn’t think he’d have to tidy up his car for this today. “My mom’s.”

“Your mom wears mismatched men’s socks.”

“Yes, she thinks they’re rather comfy.”

Calvin laughs. He does this funny thing when he laughs, where he covers his mouth with the back of his hand, and it’s kind-of cute. Miles wishes he could unsee it.

Chapter Four

They pass by the spot where he found Calvin, and the small crowd has already dispersed. Calvin’s quiet, his eyes out the window, though Miles is glad he’s stopped moving around so much. As if afraid to spook him, he leaves him to his silence.

It’s not until they’ve gone a few blocks that Calvin speaks up.