Page 1 of Aisle Come Back to You

1

Blair

When I asked myolder brother to pick me up from the airport, this was not what I had in mind. Instead of welcoming me home in style like I’d jokingly suggested, with him in a suit and tie and a small sign with my name on it, I’m met with a large poster board that reads, ‘Welcome home from prison, Blair!’

I should roll my eyes, but instead I lift my hand to stifle the laughter. This is so out of character for Miles, and not something I’d usually expect from him. He’s always been my lovable yet grumpy older brother, which is precisely why I can’t hate it or be mad. If anything, I’m impressed.

Scurrying past security, I practically leap into his arms and pull him into a warm bear hug. “Don’t you worry. I’m a changed woman, Miles. I’m never going back there again,” I loudly proclaim as a few nearby lurkers uncomfortably glance our way.

“Well, uh, make sure you don’t.” He tries to play along, running a nervous hand through his tousled blond locks. As hepulls away from my grasp, he seems to make a conscious effort to let the sign drop to his side, its message concealed against his body.

“So, did that one backfire on you or what?” I tease, adjusting my camera bag as he places a friendly arm around my shoulder and guides me toward the baggage claim.

“Honestly?” he asks, before letting out a loud sigh. “Yeah. I was getting the weirdest looks as I stood there waiting for you. Pretty sure that was the longest twenty-minute wait of my life.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Well, that’s what you get for trying to make a joke. Did all these years apart make you forget that I’m the funny one in the Bennett family?”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to wait so long between visits, I wouldn’t have to forget,” he playfully chastises, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey now,” I say, giving him a light shove as we walk, his arm falling from around me. “Planes fly both ways. You’re more than welcome to come and visit me, too, you know?”

“Not all of us are as lucky as you and can fly home at the drop of a hat. And even when you have breaks in your schedule, you hardly ever make the trip. I can barely even remember the last time I saw you.”

He’s not wrong. Being a concert photographer for some of the biggest bands in the world gives me the freedom and flexibility to travel, allowing me the opportunity to occasionally fly home or the ability to explore new destinations—I always choose the latter. Returning home has never been something I particularly look forward to, which means vacationing elsewhere will always be my number one choice.

When it came to being an older brother, Miles was truly one of a kind and everything I needed and more, but our childhood was anything but idyllic. We were primarily raised by our eccentric grandmother after our mom not only ran out on ourdrunken father, but on us as well. Our father’s drinking habits only intensified, making it almost impossible to have any real sentimental feelings toward my childhood or hometown. If it wasn’t for Miles and my two childhood best friends, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through.

“I’ve been busy.” I shrug, not really in the mood to explain myself. Plus, it’s complicated.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a roll of his eyes, clearly not buying what I’m selling.

“I’m home now. That has to count for something, right?” I frown up at him, giving my signature puppy dog eyes, putting my big baby blues to work. If you’ve got ’em, flaunt ’em, and you best believe I know how to put ’em to use.

“I would hope so. I’m pretty sure Veronica would kick your ass if you didn’t come home for her big day.”

I let out a much-needed laugh. “No kidding. It’s not every day your best friend gets married.”

“Now that I think about it, wasn’t it Ford’s wedding that brought you home the last time?” he asks, his chin lifting in thought as we continue down the long hallway, maneuvering through the small crowd of travelers.

I attempt to hide my body’s physical response to hearing my other best friend’s name. Or who knows, at this point? I’m not sure if you could still consider us friends.

Miles isn’t wrong about my last visit home. What he may not realize is that after I discreetly slipped away during the reception to deal with my emotions with a mixture of tears and alcohol, I haven’t exchanged a single word with Ford since. Okay, maybe that’s notentirelytrue, since he has reached out with the occasional text message, but that was the last timeIpersonally chose to communicate with him.

Instead of delving into the truth, I offer a curt nod. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s way too long for you not to come home and visit,” he scoffs, once again using his free hand to pull me into his side for a quick hug.

“What can I say? I’ve been busy,” I lie, twisting out of his grasp as we reach the baggage claim area. Unfortunately, my suitcase is nowhere to be found on the carousel, which currently sits motionless and devoid of all other luggage and bags.

“Let me guess, you’ve been too busy with Max Storm?” he asks, raising a judgmental brow while looking anything but amused.

I fold my arms, refusing to look his way. “I’ll have you know, we’re on a break.”

“Oh, so that’s why he’s not here?”

“Can we please not talk about Max? I’m not in the mood,” I huff and pout simultaneously. Since the start, my brother has made it clear he disapproves of my on-and-off relationship with Max.

My hunch is that Miles has always resented my ex for taking me away. After all, he was the one who offered me my ticket out when he suggested I tour with him and his band ten years ago. Obviously, I said yes and haven’t looked back since.

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