I pulled the elastic out of my hair and shuffled toward the front door.
“Gabrielle Jones?” Miles called.
I froze with my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t feel like seeing Miles Crowe. The only thing on my to-do list for work today had been handing him off to one of the other agents.
“Ellie? Miss Mary says you didn’t come down for coffee this morning, and that means you haven’t left yet.”
“Miss Mary doesn’t know everything,” I grumbled.
“Ellie?”
“What, Miles?”
“Can you open the door?”
I eyed it. I didn’t want to open the door. I didn’t want to rehash the past or do anything else. Talk. Explain. Listen. Nothing.
“I’d like to apologize.”
I sighed. If I were Miles, I would too. And my mom would kill me if she knew I’d lacked the grace to let him.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find him standing there in a pair of joggers and an Abita beer T-shirt. His hair stuck up in a few places, and his eyes were puffed like mine did when I stayed up too late.
His mouth dropped open the tiniest bit.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing...I just can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
My hair was probably frizzing from sleeping on it damp, and with my glasses, I must look like I was cosplaying myself as that stupid meme.
I reached up to touch my hair, wondering how bad it was, but I caught myself and dropped it. It doesn’t matter. I used a very stern voice in my brain. I wasn’t sure I believed me.
“I brought you this.” He handed me coffee in a to-go cup. “Miss Mary said it’s how you like it, and I promise not to spill it on you.”
“Miss Mary told you where to find me?” That didn’t sound like her.
“No, that was your brother. He let it slip when we were talking yesterday. I came back and the table was empty, and I might have cussed because I’d wanted to apologize, and he said something like, ‘Dude, she lives upstairs. Go tell her to her face.’ And Miss Mary said I probably did need to say it to your face, but I’d better give you space first.”
“So you waited less than a day and came at my door like a jackhammer?” But it didn’t have the bite I’d meant it to. He looked almost as miserable as I’d felt during my last three years of high school.
“Yeah. Sorry. I was worried if I didn’t catch you at home, I might not get the chance. And I really, really owe you.”
I stepped back. “All right. You can come in. But I’m going to need to wake up more before we have this conversation. Sit and drink your coffee, and I’m going to go change out of my pajamas and wash my face.”
The bathroom mirror revealed a worse situation than I could have imagined. Hair frizzing everywhere, mascara I hadn’t gotten off in the shower slightly smudged beneath my eyes, glasses missing one arm because I couldn’t be bothered to order a new pair.
I turned the faucet on blast before whispering to the hot mess in the mirror, “Not awesome.”
I did a very fast version of my morning routine but skipped makeup because who was I kidding after I’d opened the door looking my worst? I pulled my hair into a tight, low ponytail since I didn’t have twenty minutes to straighten it, then slipped on a knit shirtdress and slid on some Vans. It was my Saturday-morning-errands outfit, but I didn’t have time to conjure up Work Elle with Miles waiting on my couch.
I picked up my coffee and sipped it on the way out to the living room, needing the caffeine injection more than I needed oxygen.
He was still there, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, studying the carpet. He scrambled to his feet. “Hey.”
“Let’s walk.” The idea of trying to sit across from him made me itchy inside. I’d rather be moving and have a dozen other things to look at besides him.
“Sure, yeah. That sounds good.”
He followed me out of my apartment and down the stairs without saying a word.
I wasn’t sure what to say either, but by the time we reached the sidewalk out front, we were tipping from awkward to excruciating.
He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Believe it or not, I’ve been wanting to apologize to you for ten years.”
I nod. “That’s not bad for an opening. But you suck at math. It was twelve years