Page 112 of Paint Our Song

The line goes dead.

Calvin doesn’t answer his calls after that, doesn’t even reply to his texts. He knows he sees them, though, because the icon that shows he’s read them says so.

Chapter Thirty-One

Miles sulks in his own stupidity for too long. If he doesn’t stop spiraling, he’s going to end up turning the world off again, so Miles gets up and heads to the lobby.

The front desk’s unmanned, which is unusual but happens sometimes. At least that’ll give him something to do for now.

Unfortunately, Matthew and Diego are by the cafe, probably because the universe isn’t done playing with him. Just what he needs—to see how his ex-boyfriend is winning the who’s-got-it-better-after-we-broke-up contest.

Why’s his mind even going there? Miles groans and pushes that thought away, knowing that the only reason he’s bitter about it is because he’s having one of his spectacularly bad days.

Miles heard that they’ve been bringing in more quantities of baked goods lately because of the growing number of guests. He waves at them, and hopes they don’t actually come over to say hi.Miles doesn’t offer to help, since they seem to have it under control—Diego’s no longer the timid skinny kid he remembers from school; he’s bulked up and has lost the awkwardness in his gait, and can easily carry the boxes without breaking a sweat.

Matthew approaches the front desk, and Miles is already planning his escape.

“What’s up with you?” Matthew leans over the front desk and raises an eyebrow at Miles, studying him. The ring on his hand glints. “You look really miserable.”

“Wow, thanks.” Miles pretends to be busy, swinging around in his chair and poking a keyboard. The screen comes to life and asks for a pin code. When the hell did they start using pin codes?

“No, I mean it. What happened to you?”

There. His sketchbook, which he left there earlier. He can grab that. Miles doesn’t have time for Matthew’s scrutiny, can’t have him looking at him the same way he did years back, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying to get him to stand up, when he had given up on everything after Dad passed. Nope.

“Working, excuse me.” Miles yanks his sketchbook. He sees the actual receptionist coming back from her break and he can make his escape. ”I need to head out to the lake and sketch the sunset.”

“The sun set hours ago.”

“See, Matt, that’s because you’ve been holding me up! Never mind, I’ll sketch some… boats, or whatever.”

Matthew rolls his eyes, watching Miles circle around the reception and almost stumble over his own two feet. Diego’s approaching them, a matching ring on his hand. Miles nods at Diego, then headsout.

He hears Matthew say, “Can you ask Meg if she wants to hitch a ride? I think she’s in the dining room. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

Miles makes his way to the lake. There are a few people outside, and it’s not as quiet as he likes, but that’s fine. If he walks a few minutes down, he’ll reach the pier that’s almost always empty during this time of day. Miles jogs toward it for fun and to tire out his too noisy brain.

When he gets there, he sets his sketchbook down on the ground and sits by the edge, swinging his legs over the water. It’s dark because the only lights around are from the yachts in the distance, and the establishments on the other side of the lake. He can hear faint music, and rolls his eyes when he figures out it’s coming from Camilla Hotel.

“Miles.”

“Holy shit—” Miles clutches at his chest, startled. He turns his head and there’s Matthew. “What are you doing here?”

“What areyoudoing here?”

“Sketching the suns—the boats!”

“You’re acting nuts. Did you eat a bag of gummy worms again?”

“No!” It was a bag of gummy bears, actually, but he’s not going to give him the ammo.

Matthew sits down on the edge of the pier as well, about a foot away from Miles. They used to sit like this a lot before, years ago. Matthew says, “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“You look miserable. Gabby joked that you’re here to mopearound, but it’s obvious she’s worried. I think your mom’s worried, too.”

Miles’s expression twists. He doesn’t want them to worry about him, especially not Mom.