Page 33 of Near Miss

The air conditioner kicks on again, and there’s this twinge in my chest, but I think I hear the eucalyptus leaves rustle.

Beckett

The last time I stood outside a door like this, in a tux, raising a fist to knock on it, I was eighteen and half drunk, going to my senior prom.

I didn’t bring flowers tonight. I’m sure her house isn’t a scent-free environment, but in hindsight, the whole bouquet might have been a bit much.

It was a decision made out of exuberance. I’m not sure she really understands, or that words could really convey, what it meant for her to save me twice—once from having to suffer in a pediatric unit where all I’d be able to see was my sister hooked up to tubes, hair fall everywhere, and my parents clinging to nothing, and the second time from having to endure someone else’s disappointment.

It was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t care about me.

Even though I think it made me wish she did.

I’m finally about to knock when the door gets thrown open. It’s not Greer standing there.

Someone who looks enough like her to tell me it’s her sister. Hair that could be red under the sun, eyes just a shade lighter than Greer’s—but everything else is the same. The nose, the jawline, the high cheekbones.

Even her voice is similar.

“Good evening, Beckett.” She grins, eyes flashing, and holds up a phone. It looks like there’s an active FaceTime call there, a girl with hair darker than Greer’s and a redhead both peering at me.

“You must be Stella.” I grin, holding out my hand.

Her face shines, brows rising and eyes wide, delight etched in all her features.

“Great handshake.” Her gaze cuts to the side, and she gives a firm nod towards the phone.

Stella drops my hand, pointing to herself. “Sister.” She taps the phone. “Best friends.”

I nod, repeating with a tip of my chin to her and then the phone, “I’m here to pick up your sister, and your best friend.”

She looks triumphant, like I’ve just revealed something, a bit like she’s about to say something more when Greer appears in the doorway behind her.

I flex my hands, lips parting with nothing on them before the corners tug upwards. I take a sharp inhale when I remember to breathe. I’ve only ever seen her in scrubs and a ratty T-shirt with the name of a fictional restaurant from a movie.

She was beautiful then—but now, I’m not sure.

I think she’s something else entirely.

Dark hair slicked back into a high ponytail. Cheeks flushed and lips painted with something that makes them look almost iridescent. Green eyes, looking like gemstones, brighter than probably anything I’ve ever seen—and this emerald silk sheath dress that ties around her neck, shoulders straight and exposed.

“Enough, Cash.” Her eyes flick to her sister, and her cheekbones look like they could cut glass for a second before all of her softens. She raises a hand to her mouth when she walks out, placing her fingers there in some semblance of a kiss I sort of wish was mine, then she waves at her sister and her two best friends, slamming the door behind her.

“You look”—I palm my jaw—“really, really fucking beautiful.”

Greer looks up at me and blinks, her cheeks pink, and she smooths the front of her dress unnecessarily. “Thank you. But please don’t tell my sister. It’s her dress and I don’t need the I told you so.”

“Were you planning on wearing a pantsuit? Maybe something that screams ‘strictly business’?” I grin, trying to pretend like I can’t feel my heart in my chest and hold out my elbow.

She tosses me a flat look, eyes sharp and lips pursed, but her hand finds my arm and she gathers her dress in the other. “You’ll never know.”

“Happy to be your business partner for this venture, Dr. Roberts.” I take her porch steps one at a time, slowly, so her heels don’t catch, and she rolls her eyes, tugging me along and marching determinedly down the sidewalk towards my truck.

Greer drops her dress, and points at me. “Don’t even think about opening my door. Friends don’t open friends’ car doors.”

I hold up my hands, walking backwards around the front cab. “I don’t know, I’m starting to think you’ve got some shitty friends.”

She jerks her head back towards her house. “I’m not sure I’d call them shitty, but I’m certain they’re probably watching through the phone while my sister peers out the window.”

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