Page 11 of Chasing Stars
Miles meets my eyes, then makes the same downward motion with his index finger.
“That bad?” I groan. I thought that in a beach town, even the worst of the worst houses go for top dollar.I guess I was wrong.“How much, then?”
“That depends, do you have any money to invest in renovations or upgrades before we list it?” Miles’s face softens. I’m sure he’s trying not to completely crush me.
“Not really. I have some money in my 401(k) I could tap into if I wanted to take the tax hit. My mom worked really hard up until she got sick, but she was a renter. She had very little savings and nothing with equity.” I sigh and throw myself backward on the couch. “This is bleaker than I thought.”
Miles leans on his elbows, staring at the floor. He’s quiet for a few minutes, probably thinking about my options. The morning sun casts a golden glow through the patio door, highlighting Miles’s physique perfectly. Even though it’s the last thing I should be thinking about, I take this moment to study the sharp edges of his back, the curve of his shoulder into his bicep, and the way his gray T-shirt hugs his lean muscle. His wavy hair curls at the nape of his neck, and in his profile, I see the perfect amount of stubble.
He interrupts my assessment of him. “So, I’m thinking you have a couple of options. First, we can try listing it for $225K. You won’t get that. People will see the inside and try to lowball you. We may be able to sell it for the upper one hundreds or lower two hundreds and you can walk away.” He pauses, turning back to me, studying my face while giving me a moment to digest.
I sit up straighter. “Or?”
“Or…you can have the utilities turned on, a cleaning crew come in, and you can stay here—take time to think about what you’re going to do and fix the house up at the same time.” Miles shrugs.
“But I really can’t afford to fix it up too much,” I say, chewing on my lower lip.
“Listen, I’m not saying new countertops or floors or anything like that. But paint can go a long way. You can refinish the cabinets, replace the rusty hinges. Fix up the yard. There are all kinds of things you can do.” Miles is so encouraging thatoptimism flutters in my chest—though maybe that’s just the budding attraction I feel toward him.
“Okay.” I mull this over for a minute. “I probably can’t afford your friend Danny,” I admit. “Unless he takes a credit card.”
Miles huffs out a laugh. “I actually think he does, but that’s beside the point. Think about the things you can do and make a list. Maybe there are some things I can help with.”
I nod. “Okay. Well, at the very least, I’ll stay a few more days.”
Miles claps his hands together. “Attagirl! See, you can do hard things, Jenna. I believe in you.”
“Miles?” I ask, my meek voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?”
My face contorts in embarrassment. “I don’t even know where to start. I feel so overwhelmed.”
Miles stands and holds a hand out to me. “Come on, I’ll call a cleaning company, and you call the electric company. You’ve got this.”
I sigh begrudgingly, channeling the sharp independent girl I know is inside me.I’ve got this.
6
MILES
Idon’t realize I’m whistling as I unlock the office door Monday morning. I spent most of the weekend with Jenna, helping her clean up the house so she could stay there. There were a few awkward moments where her emotions got the better of her—ordinarily, that would send me running. There is something about tears that makes me feel useless—like I’m supposed to fix it, but I never quite know how. For some reason though, I didn’t run. Iwantedto stay. I feel drawn to Jenna like I’ve never experienced before, like a current I can’t fight. She’s guarded but that’s probably because of everything she’s dealing with right now. After nearly forty-eight hours getting to know her, I admittedly, still don’t know that much—but I want to. Aside from her warm brown eyes and genuine, disarming smile, there’s a brokenness about her, cracks beneath the surface she’s trying to hide. I want to know more about her. I can’t exactly explain why but, it’s not my usual MO—not by a long shot.
“Yo, dude.” Nate comes up behind me, scaring the shit out of me.
I nearly jump out of my skin. “Geez, warn a brother, will you?” I huff, whirling around to face him.
“Sorry. Why are you so jumpy?” Nate reaches around me to push open the door and walks inside. I follow him.
“I’m just tired, I guess. I spent all weekend helping Jenna with her house. I didn’t even surf. Maybe I need to decompress.” I walk to my desk, drop my briefcase—that really has nothing in it—and boot up my desktop.
Nate gives a low whistle. “Whoa. You spent all weekend with that girl?” He raises his eyebrows. “When was the last time you didthat?”
I hold up my hands. “Hey, it wasn’t likethat,” I say, hesitating. “I just get the sense that she’s been through a lot. I feel bad about that so I’m helping her out.”
“So, she’s sad, and you didn’t hook up because you feel bad for her? That doesn’t sound like you,” Nate says, a smirk playing on his lips. Nate is the most honest and loyal guy I know, but we’ve always been polar opposites. It’s not that I’m not honest or loyal—I am, to my friends and family. But, with women? I protect myself. I go after what I want, and for the past two years since my divorce, I haven’t really cared about who I hurt. I’m not proud of that. Ofcourse,Nate finds it hard to believe that I can spend a weekend with a woman and not have sex with her. “Is she weird?”
I bark out a laugh that surprises us both. “Not even a little bit.”
