Page 61 of The Enemy Face Off

Summer:Same. And also, Evie, if we can do anything for you, let us know.

Beth:Yes. Anything at all.

Evie:Thanks, guys. There's nothing anyone can do. Just stay safe and keep in touch. Okay?

Hannah:Will do!

Summer:I will.

Beth:Same.

Amiel: Always the last one…Me, too.

I get off the phone and turn on the TV to a local news station, needing a distraction from all the Milo-related thoughts whirling in my brain.

HowdoI feel?

Happy?

I…guess. It's fifty-fifty.

The first fifty is yeah, I am happy. I like Milo. He's a great guy. I feel safe with him. I had a great time yesterday talking and hanging out together.

The other fifty is taken up by a not-so-happy feeling—the lingering remnants from relationships past.

Letting my guard down with Milo seems to have triggered some muscle memory. I've let two other guys in before, and they both ended up treating me badly and really hurting me.

Logically, I know Milo isn't them and that this situation is different. But try telling that to my only recently mended heart.

The weather report comes on, and I force myself to pay attention. It looks like parts of the mountain are still cut off, but where we are isn't, which means we'll be able to return to Comfort Bay today.

A few moments later, Milo steps out of the bathroom, and it's like I'm seeing him for the first time.

His hair is loose and a bit damp, falling down to his muscular shoulders. He's dressed in a flannel top, unbuttoned, over a white T-shirt emblazoned with the LA Swifts logo, and a pair of straight fit dark-blue jeans that show off his muscular thighs nicely.

It's a normal outfit, something I've seen him wear a few times. Nothing out of this world, and yet for some reason, it feels out of this world.

Milo looks different somehow. I…I can't explain it.

Guess that's why I'm not the author in my family.

I turn the television off. "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

He walks over and sits down on the couch next to me. Not too close, but not too far, either.

"The bad."

"Okay. The bad news is the wedding is still off."

He runs a hand through his damp hair. "Oh, man, that's rough. I feel awful for Fraser. How's Evie?"

"Devastated but putting on a brave face."

"Understandable." His eyes drop to my lips. "And what's the good news?"

Suddenly, the thought of going back home doesn't feel like such good news. Which is silly. It's not like we can stay holed up here in this motel room forever.

Can we?

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