Page 137 of Tell Me Something True

As if she sensed him staring at her, that smile that wasn’t for him still on her face, she looked over Black’s shoulder and straight into Miles’s eyes.

She looked beautiful, of course. He didn’t think there’d ever be a time when he didn’t think she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her hair was parted down the center and left loose to hang in soft waves to her shoulders. She wore a wide-necked, short sleeved shirt the color of ripe raspberries that showed off her collarbone and clung to her breasts. Her makeup was minimal except for a burst of color on her lips, the same rich hue as her shirt.

But as he held her gaze, more color appeared—a muted pink suffusing the long line of her throat. Brighter spots of it in her cheeks.

Then she lowered her lashes, took a visible deep breath.

And when she lifted her eyes again, this time, they stayed on Black.

Miles’s heart picked up speed and there was a gnawing sensation in his gut, like there was something missing. Like he was incomplete.

He took a step toward her when Walsh set the two bottles of beer on the bar. Noticed that the vodka and cranberry was already there. “Your drinks.”

Miles glanced at Tabitha again. That empty feeling intensified and he realized he wasn’t missing something.

He’d lost it.

No. He’d pushed it away.

He should let it go. Let her go. He’d learned to live without her once. He could do it again.

This time, it might actually stick.

But the idea of moving on held no appeal. It never had.

Worse was the idea of her moving on.

Especially if she did so in front of him. If she fell in love with someone from Mount Laurel. If she married someone Miles knew. Had a family with him.

If she went on to have the life Miles had dreamt of with her.

With some other guy.

He glanced back at Black who was now leaning even closer to Tabitha as he said something close to her ear.

Turning back to face the bar, he waited until Walsh came back from delivering an order.

“Did she come with him?” he asked.

One side of Walsh’s mouth curled up, the closest he got to a grin.

Miles had just made the kid’s whole fucking night.

“You know,” Walsh said, scooping ice into two tall glasses, “if you were anyone else, I might feel bad for you. But since you’re not anyone else…”

And the asshole shrugged.

Miles dug out his wallet. Pulled out a twenty and laid it on the bar, keeping the tips of his fore and middle fingers on it. “Did she come with him?”

Adding soda to the glasses, Walsh glanced at the money, then raised his gaze to Miles’s face. Lifted an eyebrow.

Miles sighed.

And pulled out another twenty.

Walsh’s mouth turned up even more. “No.”

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