Page 2 of Chasing Stars
I exhale. “Thank you. See? It is my house,” I retort, frowning at him and holding my hand out for the folder.
He hands it back with a sheepish smile, ducking his head. “So, it is.”
“You never told me who you are,” I remind him, shifting my weight to the other hip. “Are you just some nosy neighbor?”
He barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. I’m Miles Corbin. My family’s real estate firm manages this property.”
“Okay, Miles,” I mutter sarcastically. “And you just so happened to be driving by, checking on it?”
He chuckles again. “No, anosy neighborcalled me and reported a suspicious woman peering in the windows. It’s a small town, what can I say?”
His hazel eyes dance with amusement, and I want to be annoyed, but I can’t even muster that anymore. Now, I’m just tired, and the sharp bite of the late afternoon chill is creeping in, reminding me that autumn comes much earlier by the seashore.
I crack a smile, trying to keep him in my good graces. “Okay, Miles, who can I see about getting myself a key?”
“Why don’t we go back to my office and chat?” he asks, gesturing back toward the street. I’m hungry and tired, and I just want to go inside and fall onto the twenty-five-year-old mattress, but I don’t have a key, or a hotel room for that matter, so I have no choice but to follow the annoyingly handsome stranger back to his office.
We walk around the front of the house, and I glance back at it, longingly, blinking back tears. There are so many memories tied to this little bungalow, but now that I’m alone, unemployed, and forced to live on the little inheritance my mom left me, I have no choice but to let it go. I pause on the sidewalk as Miles gestures toward a sand-colored Subaru Outback, with two surfboards on the roof rack, parked in front of my Camry. “Do you just want to follow me over?”
I nod somberly, hugging myself for warmth no one else can offer, and walk around to the driver's side. How did I get here? I mean, Iknowhow I got here but, in this moment, I have never felt more alone. And then, we both notice it at the same time. A flat tire. A completelyundriveableflat tire. I must have ridden over a nail. I groan and close my eyes, tipping my head toward the sky.
“Well, I guess you’re riding with me then.” Miles smirks, and I glare at him like he’s the reason my world is falling apart.
“You can’t be serious.” My voice cracks, filled more with defeat than anger. “I don’t even know you. Have you everseena horror movie?” I cross my arms protectively and take a step back. “The pretty girl trusts the handsome guy, and then—” I drag my finger across my throat. “Cue the spooky music.”
I don’t mean to sound cruel but I’m fraying at the edges—cold, heartbroken, and overwhelmed. I’m one flat tire away from completely unraveling, and he is standing before me with that maddening smirk, his lips turning upward at the corners.
“This is the last thing on earth I need right now,” I grumble, fighting the tears pricking the back of my eyes.
At this, Miles softens, stepping closer as he pulls a business card from his wallet and hands it to me. He holds up his hands. “I promise you—I am who I say I am. Come on, Jenna. I’ll take you to the office to get your key, and then maybe we can get something to eat and talk about your options.” He offers me his arm but drops it when I don’t take it.
I reluctantly follow him to his passenger door. His seat is cluttered with empty fast-food bags, which he hurriedly tosses in the back so I can climb in. Before he closes the door, I glance up at him, my brow knitting. “I don’t think I told you my name. How did you know it?”
“I saw it on the papers in your folder.” He grins proudly and shuts the door, whistling as he walks around to the driver’s side.
“Oh,” I say, but he doesn’t hear me. Warmth bubbles in my chest—he took note of my name. Lately, I’ve felt so lonely, I don’t bother to force the flicker of yearning back down.
Miles climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition, shooting a glance in my direction. “Ready?”
I let out a defeated sigh. “I guess.”
He shifts into drive and pulls onto the street. “So, you think I’m handsome?” His lips quirk into a playful smile.
I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters with unfamiliar tingles. “Don’t push it,” I murmur.
2
MILES
Jenna is quiet on the short drive to my office in downtown Cape May, not quite walkable from her house. Coldplay’s “The Scientist” plays softly on the radio as Jenna stares out the window. I keep stealing glances at her, but she never looks my way. Her dark brown hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and every time the breeze blows through the cracked windows, I catch a whiff of her shampoo. She rests her elbow on the door and leans against it. I swallow my awkwardness and clear my throat.
“So, when was the last time you were in Cape May?” I ask hesitantly.
“When I was nine.”
“I see… How old are you now?” I ask and then wince because I don’t think you’re supposed to ask women that.
Jenna doesn’t flinch though. “I’m thirty-five.”
