Page 117 of Tell Me Something True

Because instead of telling her she was right, instead of thanking her for trusting him with those bits of her past she’d shared with him, instead of apologizing for being an arrogant asshole, he’d sat in his car, still and silent while she shut the door and walked away.

He’d let her go.

Again.

You didn’t try and get me to come back.

He’d thought his mistake all those years ago had been falling in love with her in the first place.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Here,” Toby said, drawing Miles’s attention from his pathetic inner musings to the cup of coffee in his hand.

Thank Christ.

Miles slid off the counter and accepted the cup, then took a sip.

It was hot and rich and smooth. Much better than anything he could’ve made at home with his one cup machine.

He’d go out and drink a bucketful of lake water before admitting it.

“Thanks,” he told his brother.

Toby nodded and leaned back with his own cup. They stood that way, side-by-side, looking across the narrow living room and out through the huge window overlooking the lake. The rain had intensified since he’d stepped into Toby’s house—a tiny, one bedroom cabin that had at one time been a vacation rental, and was in worse shape than the place where Kat’s and Tabitha’s apartments were.

But every time Urban or Willow brought up renovating it—Willow’s idea—or demolishing and building something new—that one was Urban—Toby balked. Claimed he wanted to put his time, energy, and money into Binge, even though the restaurant had been in the black for the past two years.

Miles knew there was another reason Toby was holding off. He just didn’t know what.

And he wouldn’t.

Not until Toby was good and ready to tell him.

Toby might be the easiest going out of all the Jennings, but that didn’t mean he was any less stubborn.

Only eighteen months apart, he and Toby had always had a tighter bond than they had with their other brothers. Toby had always been who Miles turned to when he needed someone to listen.

Miles knew they could stand there, in the silence, sipping coffee and staring out at the gloomy morning and not saying one goddamn thing. That Toby, with his seemingly endless patience and understanding, wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t ask for more than Miles was ready to give.

That was Miles’s job. Always pushing for more, more, more.

Like it was his job to gather each and every thought the people in his life had.

His responsibility to take on their worries and fears and misgivings.

To fix their mistakes.

Who the hell was going to help him fix his?

“I was going to ask her to marry me,” Miles said, breaking the silence, his words low and gruff. He glanced at his brother. “When we were together in Pittsburgh, I was going to ask Tabitha to marry me.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “I even bought her a ring.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“She left before I could.”

But the words didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel true.

“How long did you have the ring before she left?” Toby asked.

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