Page 35 of Your Last First Kiss

“He wouldn’t.” I walk onto the court and find the rack of balls. Taking two, I bounce them until I’m on the three-point line and shoot one-handed. The first one falls short of the rim. The second hits nothing but net.

“Catch,” Miller shouts, passing me two more balls.

I make them both.

“Damn. Ashton was right. When’s the last time you played?”

I stare at him, and my arms tense with adrenaline I haven’t felt in years. “I sort of played with Ash for a while, but that was more coaching than playing.”

“Day-um,” he says when I sink four more balls.

Why didn’t I get this jolt when I played with Ash and Ryder? I rub a fist over my heart—it’s beating faster than a jet engine.

I could do something here. I could make a difference here and be closer to Penny. My mind spirals. There are a lot of changes that need to be made.

“You’re better than good,” Miller says. He shakes his head but passes me another ball.

“Muscle memory,” I mutter, trying to shake away the surge coursing through my veins.

“Right. Well, you’re welcome to come back and test that theory anytime, but I should get you to Ashton’s so I can check on Eddy’s house.”

The stagnant air suddenly attacks my senses like a bad memory. “Why are you checking on his house?”

“Well.” He looks me up and down. “Screw it. Come with me. I’ll give you a glimpse behind the curtain of your Wednesday girl.”

“Wednesday girl?” Ashton wouldn’t rat me out like that. Would he?

“I’m sure you call it something else, but dang. You’ve been courting Penny for three damn years.”

“Courting.” I snort. “We’re not living in the fifties.”

“What would you call it?” He pulls the heavy breakers, turning off the lights one by one. The system is so outdated. It must cost them a fortune to keep it running.

“Friends. I’d call us friends.”

“All right, friend. Come on. My apartment is on the other side of the complex. Let’s get you some clothes, and then we’ll get this shit show on the road.”

* * *

Miller’s clothesmake me feel like a different person. When I put them on, I recognized the brand from high school. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn something from Kohls, but I admitted defeat when I saw the snow that accumulated on the truck in the short time we were in the gym.

I’ve never experienced snow so thick and heavy.

We checked the town square to ensure no one was out or stranded in their businesses, then headed toward Ashton’s. The change in Miller happened the second he stepped onto the porch.

I’d bet money that he’s got sweaty palms aside from the fact that it’s twenty degrees outside.

Paisley is a tiny little thing with dark hair and bright green eyes. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in personality.

“That’s quite the outfit, Pais.”

She turns those green eyes on Miller. “What’s that supposed to mean, Matty?”

Matty?

“Jesus. Nothing. I’m just here to help,” he grumbles.

“Is your name Matty?” I whisper.