Page 31

M iles 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 heads out.

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 are you doing 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 mope around, 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.

He shouldn’t have come here.

“Still refusing to let them see you get down sometimes, huh?” Matthew asks.

“Because I remember how I cooped myself up in my room when Dad passed,” he mumbles. “It’s bad enough Mom lost her husband without having to walk on eggshells around a grown adult like me. I don’t want her to worry about me, and she doesn’t need to know that I have really awful days sometimes.”

“You were both grieving… You’re both still grieving. She’s your mom. It’s her job to worry about you, and I think it would do you good to be more honest with her about where your mind’s at.”

“Heh, Calvin said the same thing.”

“Smart guy.”

Miles puts his hands on his knees and fidgets, swinging his legs back and forth above the water. Matthew sits there, calmly, his eyes set on the lake before them. He’s filled out a lot since they were younger, just like Diego. He wears his hair longer now and has gotten rid of those boyish cartoon shirts he collected back in high school.

Again, Miles wonders, when exactly did they all grow up?

“How is Calvin?” prods Matthew.

Miles flinches. “He’s pissed at me.”

Matthew nods, as if he already knew this had everything to do with Calvin. “Why?”

“Because I messed up,” he admits. “Did you know Theo Reid’s his ex?”

“Oh. Damn, really? I thought those were just fans making up stories.”

“Yeah, no, they really were together. For a long time.”

“So… this is about you being jealous? That’s unlike you.”

Miles chews on his lip. This is so weird, talking to Matthew of all people about his dating life. It’s so incredibly weird that it might be what he needs. “I’m not jealous about the fact that they dated, more like it bugs me that he’s his muse. That they’re each other’s muses. And that the entire world thinks the same thing.”

“What’s a muse?”

“I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”

“You’ve broken up? That’s—” Strangely, but in a good way, Matthew’s way too bothered about this. He frowns and scratches his neck, hesitating to get the words out. It’s certainly a sight. “He was good for you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Miles says with a shrug. “I wasn’t good for him. The band’s good for him. It’s his family, his life. I’m not going to compete against that.”

“Why does he need to choose between you and the band?”

“He doesn’t, but… it’s really messy. He and Theo get into all these stupid fights when I’m around. I make it worse for the band, just being there. Also…”

“Also?”

“Calvin got pissed because I haven’t listened to their new release. ”

Matthew turns to him, all wide-eyed and baffled. “You haven’t? Are you serious? They put it out hours ago.”

“No. See, I’m horrible. I can’t stand listening to Theo sing love songs, and how exactly are we going to work if I can’t even listen to his band?”

“Kind of ironic how you’ve been obsessed with them for years, then when you finally get a chance to meet them, you suddenly can’t listen to their songs.”

“Yes,” he says dryly. “Glad you see the irony.”

Wheezing, Matthew mumbles something about how this is so very typical of Miles. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Lovely talk.”

“Their music is the reason you got back into art those years ago. You got out of your room when nobody else could get you to. And I’ve seen you together these past few weeks. You don’t fake your goofy smiles when he’s around.”

“Listen—”

“Stop. I’m not done. Seriously, he was good for you. This is what you do, Miles. You give up on yourself. You only have two modes. You’re either fighting with all you’ve got, or completely giving up. There’s no in-between. The moment you think everything’s lost, you stop functioning. You don’t take a step back and look at the bigger picture.”

Miles doesn’t say anything, just stares down at the water. He stops swinging his feet.

Sighing, Matthew continues. “If you got out of that bubble you live in, you’ll realize how much people actually care about you. If you didn’t stop blocking the world out every time you’re down, this wouldn’t happen. You know how I know you’re blocking the world out again? Because you haven’t listened to their new song.”

“Yeah, because I don’t want to hear Theo singing a song that Calvin wrote,” he points out.

“He didn’t sing it, you moron. Calvin did.”

Huh?

Miles gapes. “ Calvin did vocals!?”

He scoffs. “Take your phone out—right now. I’m not leaving until you listen to it.”

“Okay… okay, fine.” Miles fishes his phone out from his pocket. He pulls up his music app, and Cloverlily’s pinned to the front page as it’s been for years now. Miles presses play on their new song. The intro’s catchy, like it always is, but it also has a mellow flow to it.

Then Calvin sings.

Miles’s heart hammers in his chest. He’d recognize this voice anywhere, the steady cadence of it, and how beautifully intense it is.

Calvin has sung numerous times on their previous songs, but usually, in harmony with Theo. He doesn’t take the lead like this. Miles grins to himself, feeling an absurd amount of pride for Calvin, because it’s about fucking time.

And, the song… Miles bows his head down as he listens to it, and his thumb hovers the screen of his phone, stunned, because is he hearing this right? Calvin’s singing about a beautiful lake town and about someone he met who’s able to bring out the extraordinary with his paintings?

Matthew watches him carefully the entire time, not saying a word .

Miles’s heart beats so loudly in his chest. His face heats, and his breath catches in his throat. The song’s about him—or at least inspired by him? He doesn’t even know where to begin.

“Oh, god…” Miles groans. He messed this up, and he messed it up bad.

“Yeah,” Matthew says, and Miles puts his phone behind him so he doesn’t drop it into the lake. “You’re an idiot.”

He needs to rush back now. Miles needs to get in touch with Calvin, apologize, and tell him how big of an idiot he is. He can’t believe he said all those things to him. Shit. Miles’s stomach twists and wants to shout all his frustrations.

Miles pouts. “I kinda wish we had this talk hours ago.”

Throwing his head back, Matthew bursts out laughing. “I kinda wish we didn’t have to at all. It’s weird, talking to you about your love life.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me about your engagement?”

“Yeah. I mean… We’re good. I swear we’re good, and we can be friends, and I’m happy you met Calvin. It’s still weird to talk about our love lives with each other, though.”

He nods. Miles gets it. “Thanks for chasing me out here. This was the weirdest of weird, but I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Matthew gets up and dusts his pants. “I’m going to head back. Diego and Megan are waiting for me. Go pack and drive back to the city.”

He remembers Calvin telling him that it must be nice to have an ex-boyfriend who didn’t thrive on drama. Miles gets it now—this friendship he has with Matthew is nice. It’s all sorts of awkward, and he’s still blindly feeling around, searching for where the line’s drawn, but it’s nice. Miles is lucky to have him around. He stands up as well, putting his phone back in his pocket and grabbing his still very empty sketchbook. “I’m happy for you, too, by the way. I’m glad you have Diego.”

“So, so weird.” Matthew makes a face and shivers, as if someone put an ice cube down his back, and Miles laughs.

***

Mom’s fallen asleep on the couch when he gets home, the television playing an old rom-com and its sound a low buzz through the dim room. There’s an empty takeout container on the coffee table in front of her—Miles had wondered why he didn’t see her in the dining room.

Miles stands next to the couch for a minute, watching her sleeping. She really does look like she’s aged so much in the last five years, and Miles chalks that up to never being home. He’s missed so much of her.

He nudges her shoulder gently. “Ma. Wake up. Don’t sleep here, you’ll get a backache.”

She wakes up slowly, blinking around the room in a daze. “Oh. I dozed off.”

“Yeah, I’ll clean this up for you.” Miles grabs her takeout container and brings it to the kitchen. He says over his shoulder, “I’m going to drive back to the city.”

“Now? ”

“Yes,” he says. “Sorry, I know I keep going back-and-forth without any warning, but there’s something I need to do right away.”

Mom follows him to the kitchen, frowning. “Why right away? It can’t wait until tomorrow?”

He shakes his head and throws the containers into the bin. She didn’t have a drink, so he gets a glass of water and hands it to her. “Need to talk to someone.”

“It’ll be very late once you get back to the city, though.”

“I know, but I’ll still try.”

She gets that wry smile of hers. “Making up with Calvin? Why did you fight, anyway?”

Even when he’s being purposely vague, she knows. Miles says, “It’s nothing. Was being a bit insecure, so I backed off, but I’ll fix it.”

He’s downplaying it on purpose. As usual, he doesn’t want her to worry. She doesn’t need to know about the stupid ways he messes up.

“Is he your boyfriend? You realize you never actually told me he is.”

“I don’t know. Someone called me his boyfriend, and he didn’t deny it, but I’m not really sure right now.”

“Okay.” She fiddles with her necklace. “Do you need help packing?”

“Nah! I’ve got it.”

Miles runs to his room and stuffs clothes into a duffel bag. He sends a text to Calvin telling him he’s heading back to the city, though he knows it’ll most likely go ignored like all the other ones. When he heads back down, Mom’s waiting by the foot of the stairs, beaming at him.

Despite the way she’s smiling, Mom’s twisting her pendant in her fingers almost forcibly. It makes Miles wince. Miles doesn’t tell her about his bad days, and he’s always had the hunch that it’s the same for her. Even if they don’t talk, he’s attuned to the telltale signs that she’s upset.

“I don’t have to go,” he says.

“Don’t be silly. You need to go after Calvin. Let me walk you out.”

Mom walks him to his car, tip-toeing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and opening the door for him. Before getting in, Miles glances at the inn across the street, then at their own two-storey house that used to be much noisier and not so empty.

I think she’s just like you, bottling it up for your sake —that’s what Calvin had said.

“I really miss Dad,” Miles suddenly blurts out.

Her expression softens and her fingers clasp her pendant again, almost instinctively. “I do too.”

“I’m sorry I don’t go home that often. It’s not fair to you… You’re here by yourself.”

“No.” She steps closer and wraps her arms around him. “You’re so thoughtful—always. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I’m being selfish, Ma. Someone—well, a couple of people, actually—said I bottle up my feelings when I should be more honest with you.”

Surprisingly, she chuckles. She holds his gaze and says, “We can both be more honest with each other. I really, really miss him. I am more than okay with you not coming home very often. What I am nervous about is that you’re lonely, but I don’t know how to talk to you about that. I’ve never been good at talking, not like your dad was. Both of us? We’re good at rambling and at deflecting, but when it came to being honest, that was all your dad.”

Her voice cracks and she clears her throat, then gives Miles a big smile that he can recognize resembles the one he puts on a lot, when he’s pretending he’s not about to fall apart. And, yeah, he sees it now—that they’re more similar than he thought, and they have a lot to learn about being honest with each other.

Miles grins and puts an arm around her shoulders. “Dad really was good at being honest. Don’t worry, Ma. We’ll both get better at it.”