Page 2 of One Billion Reasons

For a second, I’m frozen, my spine erect, my pulse beating so hard I swear it’s visible through my jacket. I don’t even need to look at the screen to know exactly what type of handsome he is. Whatever type of handsome that is every woman’s type. Stupidly handsome, like a model, or a god. The best-looking guy you’ll ever see. I shut my eyes against the image on the screen, but his face is stamped behind my lids. I trace the contours of it in my memory. His nose is straight, his chestnut hair thick and wavy. It’s streaked from the sun in the summer and dark in the winter. His eyes are clear grey, a color that shouldn’t exist in nature. No man should have eyes like that. They can see straight into your soul. His cheekbones are high, and his jaw square, but his lips are full and soften his otherwise harsh features. He looks like a broody statue when he’s not smiling.

Miles. I open my eyes. Maybe it’s not him. Maybe this is a nightmare. I look back down at the screen. It’s him. His eyes are shadowed now, his lips pressed together in annoyance. An expression I’m all too familiar with. Nothing about me was ever good enough for Miles.

And now he’s getting married. The full implication of why we’re here hits me. I can’t get enough air. I fumble the camera, nearly dropping it on the sand, and claw at the collar of my sweater. Is this what drowning feels like?

Katie flicks me a concerned glance. “You okay?”

I nod, shaky, and carefully place my camera back over my shoulder. We can’t afford to replace any equipment. I hold myself stock-still while I watch Miles and his fiancée walk toward me down the beach. His fiancée. I suck in a breath like I’m dying. And maybe I am. I can’t believe he’s getting married. Miles isn’t the marrying kind. For years he was a bon vivant, the guy who knew everyone, loved to party, never wanted to settle down. Maybe he’s changed. After all, I don’t really know him anymore.

The thought makes my chest pinch. Years ago, we had something special. He was best friends with my twin, Liam, but he was my confidante. I’d sit on his bed after bad dates, and he’d toss a baseball in the air while he commiserated with me. To this day, he’s the only straight man to ever nod in agreement when I’ve said, “men are trash.” And when he came home too drunk after a party, I’d make him guacamole and we’d lay on the couch and watch TV until he was sober enough to go to sleep.

The words from our last fight arrow through me, and I narrow my eyes.

Fuck you, Miles.

You wish, baby.

Miles is a prick. All he cares about is money and status. He’s ruthless, devious, and a little bit rough around the edges for a boy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

He and his beautiful fiancée are nearing us. Any minute now, he’ll realize who I am. Katie waves as they approach.

“Can you lead this?” I say quickly, before Miles is within earshot.

Katie darts me an odd look. She never takes the lead.

“I’ll do the photos. I just need someone else to do the talking. I’m not feeling great.” My words are made more believable by my panic over seeing Miles.

“Sure. You sure you’re okay?”

No. I’m not okay. I nod, when in reality, I want to run from the beach. I don’t want to see Miles or his fiancée. I can’t bear to see him. He’ll introduce me to her, and I’ll have to pretend to like him, pretend I don’t know the exact contours of his shoulders and the way he laughs when he finds something really funny.

I see the moment recognition flickers across his face. His jaw flexes. His eyes widen slightly. His nostrils flare. If only I weren’t so tuned in to his reactions. Even after all these years, I know that flare to his nostrils is a sign of true shock.

“Lane?” His voice rolls over me, a little raspy, delicious, like he had too much fun the night before. For a second Miles looks totally lost, his eyes wide, his lips parted. He rakes his gaze over me, takes one step forward, and then catches himself.

“Hi, Miles.”

“I had no idea you were the photographer.”

“Here I am,” I say awkwardly.

“Oh, you know her?” his fiancée cuts in, and I want to crawl under a rock. She’s beautiful in that way rich New York women are. Shiny hair, shiny teeth, perfect skin. Massive ring. “You’re such a talented photographer. I’m thrilled you’re taking the wedding photos.” She’s also genuinely nice. Great.

Miles does not look thrilled. In fact, he looks like he would rather be anywhere else. So would I. Seeing him as part of a couple makes a pit yawn in my stomach. Before the accident, I would have been invited to celebrate the engagement with him. I would have offered him a free photo shoot as a wedding gift. Now, I’m on the outside looking in.

“Why don’t we get started?” Katie cuts in. “Let’s start with a classic shot. Miles, why don’t you recreate the proposal, and get down on one knee?” Katie smiles winningly. If only that would be enough to save this.

I lift the camera in preparation, but Miles says, “No. Let’s keep this short. A few simple shots, and then we’re done.”

“But the drone photos…” Katie trails off as he shakes his head. I don’t remember him being this angry. Something has snapped in him. I can almost see the frayed threads of his temper. The thin veneer of civility is gone. He’s nothing like the boy I used to know, but I guess that’s been a long time in the making.

“I want to take some solo shots too, near the water. Can we start with those?” his nameless fiancée pipes up.

We turn to head down the beach, but Miles stops me with a simple, “Lane. Can we talk?”

Katie flicks me a strange look but leads his fiancée down the beach.

I steel my spine and turn to him. “About what?”

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