“Is something on fire?” he asks, his gaze darting past Nik and me and into the house.
“The stove was, but we put it out.” I swing my arm in the direction of the house alarm. “Apparently, the alarm doesn’t seem to realize that, though. We can’t get the thing to turn off.”
His gaze locks on me. “Mind if I look at it?”
I easily shove aside our last awkward encounter, reach for the bottom of his shirt, and tug him inside. “Yes, please, please, pretty please look at it. I feel like my head’s about to explode.”
Chuckling, he hands me the platter then leans down to examine the alarm. He pushes a couple of buttons then glances at me. “I’m guessing you entered the passcode already?”
Nodding, I set the platter down on the end table and step up beside him. “But it still won’t turn off.”
“Did you call the company?” he asks, tapping his finger against a phone number on the alarm. “You might have to reset it with them.”
“Milo, you’re a genius.” I fish my phone out of my back pocket.
“Don’t get too excited.” He reclines against the wall with his arms folded. “You’ll probably have to give them another password, the one linked to the account. Do you know it?”
“No.” I look at Nik for help. “Do you?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe you can call Loki and ask.”
“We’re not calling Loki. We can handle this,” I repeat loudly over the alarm as I punch in the phone number. “I’m going to call and try.”
Milo turns out to be right. The operator asks me for the main password linked to the account, but I have no clue what it is.
“Here, give me the phone.” Zhara appears by my side, making grabby hands.
I hand over the phone, and she wanders into the kitchen as she chats with the operator. A minute later, the house goes silent.
I let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, my God, I’ve never been so happy to hear the quiet.”
“My ears are still ringing.” Nik plugs his nose, attempting to pop his ears.
“There. Problem solved.” Zhara beams as she returns to the foyer, returning my phone.
I slip the phone into my back pocket. “How’d you guess the password?”
She smiles proudly. “I asked them what the hint was, and the answer was pretty easy to guess.”
I give her a curious look. “Why? What was the hint?”
She cups her hand around her mouth and leans in. “What’s your major?”
“Really? That’s it?” I pretend to be more shocked than I am, since only a week ago, I wouldn’t have known the answer.
“I’m going to get him to pick a better one,” she says. “That one’s way too easy.”
I fan the smoky air from my face. “Well, hopefully, we won’t need to use it again.”
“You said the stove started the fire?” Milo asks with amusement twinkling in his eyes. “How’d that happened under your supervision? You used to be so strict with anyone who tried to help you cook.”
“She’s the one who did it,” Zhara explains, opening another window.
Milo cocks a brow at me. “Really? Jessamine Baker burned something?” A smug grin breaks across his face. “Man, I’ve been waiting for that to happen ever since I burned those cookies I helped you make, and you gave me a very long, very boring lecture on the proper way to bake cookies.”
I lightly swat his arm. “Hey, I was trying to help you not burn the rest of the batches.”
He chuckles, shuffling back out of arm’s reach. “All your lecture did was make me never want to help you bake again. Seriously, I almost fell asleep standing up.”
I narrow my eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed. “FYI, I didn’t burn any food.” I point over my shoulder at the kitchen. “The fire started because I threw a paper towel on the burner.” I square my shoulders and plaster on a cocky smile. “I’m way too good of a cook to burn food.”
A smile lights up his face. “I remember. Your cheesecake was my favorite. Seriously. No one can make it like you.”
There’s the happy Milo I used to know. Right there. He still exists.
But where is the old Jessa?
I force a plastic smile as my chest aches. “Well, maybe if you’re lucky and really nice to me, I just might make one for you while I’m here.”
“Nice, huh?” He rubs his jaw. “I don’t know. That sounds a little overpriced for some cheesecake.”
I’m still all fake smiles. It terrifies me how good I’m getting at it. “Whatever. You’re so going to do it. You love my cheesecake.”
“Do I?” He grins, but then the smile vanishes as his brows dip. “But, yeah, I just came over to give you this.” He picks up the platter piled with sugar cookies and fudge, and practically shoves it into my arms. “My mom actually put it together and told me to bring it over as a welcome back to the neighborhood.”
“Okay.” Puzzlement etches through me. His drastic mood change is throwing me off balance. Like I noted at the gas station, he seems different. More serious. More … Well, I hate to admit it, but he seems like he doesn’t want to be friendly with me. Smart guy. “Tell her thanks.”
He nods, backing toward the door with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts. “All right, I will.”
I consider letting him leave without saying anything else, just letting him go like he seems to want to. It would probably be easier and better for him. But the thing is, I really want him to stay. I want to talk to him longer. I want to go back to smiling like I was moments ago. I want to tell him everything.
Can I do it? Can Milo be the one I confess everything to?
Yeah, Jessa, smart idea. Tell the cop you may have killed someone.
But if you explain the whole story, maybe he can help you.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, warning me I’m running out of time.
I bounce back and forth with what to do as I hand Nik the platter of goodies and tell him and Zhara to go put them in the kitchen. Then I walk Milo to the door.
“Do you have to be somewhere right now?” I ask, fidgeting with the leather bracelet on my wrist.
He massages the back of his neck, throwing an almost panicked glance at the door, like he wants nothing more than to bolt. “I’m supposed to have dinner with some friends tonight.”
I fiddle with a loose thread on the hem of my shorts. “Cop friends?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, just some friends I went to high school with.”
It seems odd he doesn’t say friends we went to high school with.
“That’s cool …” I catch his eye. “So, where are you living now? With your parents?”
He shakes his head. “No. I live over by the railroad tracks.”
By the railroad tracks is considered the bad side of Honeyton, so I find it a little off that a cop lives there.
“That’s nice. I mean, I bet it beats living with your mom and her, as she puts it”—I make air quotes—“ ‘fabulous matchmaking skills.’ ”
He rolls his tongue in his mouth, fighting back a grin. “Anything’s better than that. I love her to death, but she’s so nosey sometimes.”
“Remember that one time when you were, like, sixteen and she thought you were dating a girl you wouldn’t tell her about, so she snooped around in your room and tried to find clues, but then you came home while she was doing it?”
“Yeah, I remember. She hid in my closet for over an hour. She was lucky I didn’t do anything but lie down and read.” He shakes his head, the corners of his lips turning upward. “The funny thing was, I wasn’t even dating anyone. She made the whole thing up in her head because I kept coming home a little late after school.”
“Why were you going home late?”
“It was right after that one guy with that funny hair broke up with you. You were having a hard time, so I took you out every day after school, and we did a bunch of crazy stuff to get your mind off things.”
“Oh, yeah.” I lean against the do
or, musing. “Max with the Mohawk. I forgot about him.”
“More like Max the ass,” Milo says in a clipped tone. “That guy never treated you right.”
I don’t think most of the guys I dated ever did, but that’s mostly my fault. I have always been attracted to cocky assholes, bad boys like Cole. It’s what drew me to him to begin with. That and a hell of a lot of vodka.
God, I was so stupid.
“I really had bad judgment when it came to guys,” I admit shamefully.
“You were young,” he says with a shrug. “Isn’t that part of being young? To make mistakes and learn from them?”
“I guess so,” I mumble. “I just wish I could’ve learned from them sooner.”
His forehead creases as his lips part, questions flooding his eyes.
Not ready to go down that road with Nik and Zhara right in the other room, I say, “So, why a cop?”
Confusion creases his brows. “Huh?”
“I was just wondering why you decided to become a cop. I don’t remember you ever mentioning that being something you wanted to do.”
“It wasn’t. But things changed. I changed.” He shifts his weight, running his palm over his cropped brown hair. “About a year ago, I was going through some stuff, and I just decided I needed to do something different. So, I got my associates degree, moved back, and started the police academy training program.”
He makes changing your life sound so simple. Is it that simple? Just to decide to do something different? Stop chasing old dreams and go after others?
“Are you happy?” I ask. “I mean, do you ever regret it? I know you used to hate living here, and you had all these dreams of getting out and doing something crazy amazing with your life.”
“I’m actually okay with being back in Honeyton, and I do feel like I’m doing something good with my life.” His intense gaze bores into mine. “Things change, Jessa. Sometimes, people end up doing what they dreamed of, and sometimes, you end up finding out that what you thought you wanted wasn’t as great at you hoped. It doesn’t mean I gave up my dreams. My dreams just changed.”
His speech makes me question the last two years of my life. I wasn’t happy with how things were going in London. I was homesick and miserable. However, I was so determined not to be a failure that I kept going down a path I didn’t really want to be on, and look where I ended up.
“I forgot you could do that,” I say quietly.
“Do what?”
“Make complicated, difficult things sound so easy. It makes me feel weak.”
He swallows hard. “Jessa … about what happened the other night … when you called me … I need to know if you’re okay. I meant to talk to you when I ran into you at the gas station, but there was just”—the warmth in his expression evaporates—“some shit going on. I know it’s not an excuse, but you caught me off guard and at a really bad time.”
“It’s fine.” I hug my arms around myself. “I haven’t talked to you in over a year. I’m not really your responsibility anymore.”
“Hey.” He hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to meet his gaze. “I never, ever felt like you were a responsibility. You were my friend, and I loved helping you out. You were there for me a lot, too.”
I cringe at the past tense references. We were friends, but not anymore.
Trying to ignore the sadness pressing down on my chest, I raise an eyebrow at him. “So, you loved helping me out, even when I borrowed your pretty new truck and wrecked it?”
“Okay, maybe not then.” He lowers his finger from my chin, and a warm smile returns, the old, happy Milo I knew reappearing. “But most of the time, I loved doing stuff for you.”
A soft smile touches my lips, but shame gnaws at the pit of my stomach. “How can you be so nice to me right now? I’ve been, like, the shittiest friend ever. I mean, I took off and didn’t even call you.”
“It’s fine.” He shrugs, though pain creeps into his tone. “It’s not like we left things on a great note.”
“Yeah, I know … I thought about staying in touch, but you said not to call.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I really didn’t want to talk to you when you first left. It took me a long time to get over what happened.”
I struggle to keep my voice even. “You’re okay now, though, right?”
He almost answers without missing a beat, but that microsecond of a pause makes me question if he’s being truthful. “Yeah, I’m fine now.”
Maybe he really is okay. He used to be the most truthful guy I knew. Then again, the guy I knew smiled a lot more.
“I just mean … What I’m trying to say is …” I roll my eyes at myself. Jesus, pull yourself together. It’s not like you’re asking him to go out on a date, for God’s sake. “Do you want to try to be friends again? I get it if you don’t, but it’d be nice to have someone to hang out with while I’m here.”
“I don’t know if I can.” He pauses, seeming to deeply contemplate the decision and making me extremely nervous. Then a huge-ass grin spreads across his face. “I mean, my truck looks so awesome right now. I’d hate to have to replace everything just to be friends with you.”
“Hey, I crashed it one time.” I give his shoulder a light shove, and he laughs as he stumbles into the front door. “You seriously had me worried there for a second.” I cross my arms and stare him down. “And just so you know, the only reason I wrecked your truck is because I suck at driving on snowy roads. I always brake when I shouldn’t.”
“I know. My car was in the shop for a month because of your panicked brake tapping.” He smiles, but the movement doesn’t look easy for him. “Jessa, if you want to hang out, that’s fine. But I should warn you that there’s some complicated stuff going on in my life right now.”
With me, too, Milo. With me, too.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Just stuff. I don’t really feel comfortable talking about it.”
I completely understand where he’s coming from.
“That’s okay. I come with baggage, too.” I open and flex my shaking hand. “As you probably already know.” Just not everything.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I’ve been really worried about you.”
I stare down at my feet to hide my shame. “I can’t talk about it right now with Zhara and Nik around. I haven’t told them what happened yet. I haven’t told anyone, really. I’d like to talk later, though, if you have time and don’t mind listening.”
Oh, my God. Saying that out loud, I feel sick.
“Of course I have time.” Yet he seems hesitant. “Are you going to tell them? Your brother and sisters, I mean … about what happened.”
It takes me a moment to figure out he’s talking about almost taking my life and not taking someone else’s. “I don’t know if I should. They’ve been through so much lately. The last thing they need is to find out their sister almost left them.”
He laces his fingers through mine, his hand trembling. “Well, I’m more than happy to talk whenever you want.”
My stomach flutters at the feel of his palm against mine. Then a wave of guilt crashes over me. Do I really deserve his kindness?
“Thanks, Milo. Not just for saying that, but for handling that night so well. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Probably not here.” Milo’s eyes widen. “Jessa.” With his free hand, he reaches up and wipes tears from my cheeks. “Please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure it is. I promise.”
I suck in a startled breath. I didn’t even realize I was crying. “That’s a pretty big promise.” One I don’t think he can keep. Not because I think he will break his promise, but because I don’t think anyone can fix my problems for me. “Thanks for saying that.” I force a small smile. “You were always so nice to me, probably too nice.”
“I don’t know about that.” He frowns. “Remember those fights we got into?”
I roll my eyes. “Milo, we got into, like, three fights ever, and they only ever lasted for about an hour.”
“I know, but we were pretty mean to each other for that one hour.”
“You’re such a liar. Our fights were barely fights.”
“I called you a bitch once.”
I snort a laugh. “When?”
He looks so guilt-ridden. “When you didn’t show up to one of my games after you promised you’d be there.”
My lips part in shock. “I never missed any of your games.”
He holds up a finger. “The final game my senior year, you weren’t there.”
I have to think about it for a moment, and then I suddenly feel like the biggest jerk that’s ever existed. “That’s when I was dating Logan.”
He nods. “You missed a lot of stuff when you were dating Logan.”
That’s because Logan was in college and hated going to high school functions, which was fine; except, he never wanted me to go to them, either. And like a stupid, naive girl, I did whatever he asked because I believed I was falling in love.
“Well, I’m sorry I missed your game,” I tell him.
He smiles and his lips start to part to ask who knows what, when Zhara appears at the bottom of the stairs.
“Jessa, I know you’re busy, but”—her gaze briefly flickers to mine and Milo’s interlocked hands, and curiosity crosses her face—“it’s starting to rain, and the window needs to be covered.”
I slip my hand out of Milo’s. “Shit. I forgot about that.”
Her tone and smile convey insinuation. “Yeah, you seemed pretty distracted by other stuff.”
I shoot her a warning look as I reach for the doorknob. “I’m heading to the garage now. You and Nik meet me upstairs. I’m going to need you guys to hold the plastic while I staple it up.”
She nods then jogs up the stairs.
“Is everything okay?” Milo asks.
I open the door and frown at the rain splattering against the ground. Memories of that night wash over me like a river, and I nearly fall down.
Unveiled (The Unveiling Book 1) Page 7
