Page 28 of The Perfect Putt

I scrunch my nose.“Why would I do that? He’s my boss, and he’s on some kind of triple date. He doesn’t need me interrupting him.”

“It looks like he could use a way out of this,” she says.

“He’s a grown man, Molls. If he didn’t want to be on the date, he wouldn’t be. Maybe this is what he’s like on dates,” I say and drink some more.

“That’s not how he is with you,” Naomi says. Satisfaction drapes over me like a warm blanket fresh out of the drier.

“And we aren’t dating, so that makes sense,” I reply. Naomi gives me a look that says she sees right through me. I ignore it and turn my attention to stirring around the fruit in my glass.

“I think we’ve been spotted,” Molly says in a low voice. My head springs up, and my eyes lock on a familiar pair of green ones. Miles is walking right toward us.

Chapter sixteen

Miles Day

Like I haven’t seen her enough in my dreams this week, Ellie just had to show up here. The past few days have been a mix of miserable and wonderful. Miserable because I’ve had to avoid Ellie so Shaw doesn’t get any more ideas about us, and wonderful because it’s been great having him around. It’s going to be weird when he goes back to Alabama. Soon enough he’ll be a disembodied voice in my gaming headset, or at best a face on a screen for the occasional video chat.

But tonight it would be better if Shaw weren’t here at all, because I can’t stop myself from walking over to Ellie. She’s a bad habit I can’t shake. A sweet addiction that has me telling my friends–and the blind date they shoved on me when I got here–that I’ll order drinks for everyone at the bar. I’m hoping they’re all so preoccupied with the story of Shaw proposing to Sutton that they won’t notice me walking over to Ellie.

Her eyes meet mine, dark as the iced americano she teases me about drinking. She quickly averts her gaze though, and doesn’t look up even as I draw closer. Her hair is down, the curls looking somehow wild yet soft. The urge to run my fingers through them hits me like a club to the chest. My step falters slightly as I process this new sensation. The desire only grows when I see her up close, her lavender dress hugging her curves and showing off her long legs. And the constellation of freckles across her shoulders that I’m tempted to trace.

Naomi and Molly raise their brows at me, but then they mumble something about needing to go to the bathroom before abandoning Ellie. Interesting. Ellie doesn’t even look up from her drink though. It’s like she doesn’t notice them leave.

I lean in, my lips close to her ear. She smells like sangria and temptation. “I know you saw me, Red.”

She shivers and I smirk.

“I was ignoring you,” she says, turning to glare at me as I sit on the barstool to her right. “You know, kind of like how you’ve been ignoring me all week.” She looks back down at her drink, swirling the straw around.

I’m about to apologize. The words I’m sorry are dancing on the tip of my tongue, but then I realize: she’s mad. She’s not a little upset, or frustrated, no she’s angry. And a little tipsy, which is lowering her walls. This has me curious. Anger means there’s something deeper here. If I apologize now, she’ll likely feign forgiveness in order to get me to leave her alone. But if I push her…

“Aw, did you miss me, Red?” Her glare is back. True to her nickname, her skin has turned the color of the drink she’s clutching in her hand like a weapon. It might be a risk to prod her like this when she has a full glass in her hand. I wouldn’t put it past her to dump it on my head.

“No.” The word is encased in ice. “Now go back to your friends, Miles.” She says friends like it’s a curse.

“Tell me you missed me and I will.”

She slams her glass down and pushes away from the bartop. Before I can react, she’s storming through the crowd in the direction of the beach.

“Ellie!” I call out, knowing that if it wasn’t before, my cover is blown now. She doesn’t look back. I rush after her, pushing through the sweaty tourists until my feet are sinking into the sand. Ellie is ripping off her heels when I get to her.

“Hey, I’m–” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Save it. Go back inside, Miles.” She starts walking down the beach, shoes in hand.

“Red, come on, give me a chance to explain.” I grab her arm and she throws me off, whirling on me.

“Do you think it’s funny to play with my emotions?” She spits the words like venom. “From day one, I knew we wouldn’t get along. That was fine with me. But then you acted like we should be friends and for a moment I believed you.”

“We are friends,” I say and she lets out a bitter laugh.

“When it’s convenient for you, maybe.” She crosses her arms, but it looks less like she’s angry and more like she’s shielding herself. My chest aches with the thought that she feels the need to protect herself from me.

“That’s not how it is,” I tell her.

“I opened up to you Miles.” Her eyes are shining. I hate myself. “I told you about Owen and Naomi and how I felt about Coastal Cove. And I thought things were good. But then Sutton and Shaw show up and it’s like I was just the stand-in until your real friends showed up. I can’t do this we’re friends one minute and not the next.”

I rake a hand through my hair. Guilt carves through me like a dull blade. After seeing my parents be nice one day then at each other’s throats the next, the last thing I want to do is make Ellie feel how I felt growing up. No one deserves that. I close my eyes, willing myself to make the confession that needs to be said.

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