Regretting You(45)

I like how I feel when I’m with him. And I’m not positive, but I think he likes how I make him feel. Neither of us has stopped smiling. I know I’ve blushed at least three times during our conversation.

We both know we’re interested, so we aren’t even trying to play coy. It’s just a matter of me not knowing where his head is. What he’s thinking . . . if he’s thought about Shelby at all.

“So,” he says. “You decided on a college yet? Still planning on majoring in acting?”

This question elicits a big sigh from me. “I really want to, but my mother is so against it. So was my father.”

“Why?”

“The odds aren’t in my favor, so they want me to do something more practical.”

“I’ve seen you act. It’s what you were born to do.”

I sit up a little straighter. “Really? What have you seen me in?” I always do theater every year at school, but I’ve never really noticed Miller there before.

“I can’t remember what it was. I only remember you onstage.”

I can feel myself blushing again. I lean back against the couch and smile shyly. “What about you? Did you at least apply to UT yet? Or anywhere?”

He shakes his head. “No. We can’t afford a school like that, and honestly, I need to stay around here. For Gramps.”

I want to ask him more about that, but he seems sad when he talks about it. I don’t know if it’s because there isn’t anyone else to care for his grandfather if he were to move away or if it’s because he’d never leave him regardless. Probably a combination of both.

I don’t like that this conversation is sending his mind in that direction, so I try to redirect his thoughts. “I have a confession.”

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to spill it.

“I filled out the form for the film submission.”

Miller smiles. “Good. I was worried you wouldn’t do it.”

“I might have filled it out for you too.”

He stares at me, his eyes narrowed. “In case I broke up with Shelby?”

I nod.

He laughs a little and then says, “Thank you.” There’s a pause. “So does this mean we’re partners?”

I shrug. “If you want to be. But I mean, if you end up getting back together with Shelby, I’ll understand if you can’t do—”

Miller leans forward, dipping his head as he stares at me. “I’m not getting back together with her. Get that out of your head.”

Such a short sentence, but such a big statement. One that sends a surge of heat up my chest.

He has such a serious look in his eye that it makes me nervous when he begins to speak again. “Earlier, when you called yourself my backup plan, I wanted to laugh. Because if anything, Shelby was my backup plan to you.” A reserved smile spreads across his face. “I’ve had a thing for you for almost three years.”

His words stun me into a momentary silence. Then I shake my head, confused. “Three years? Why’d you never do anything about it?”

“Timing,” he says quickly. “I almost did once, but then you started dating that one guy . . .”

“Aaron.”

“Yeah. Aaron. Then I started dating Shelby. Then you and Aaron broke up two months later.”

“And then you began to go out of your way to avoid me.”

Miller looks apologetic when I say that. “You noticed?”

I nod. “You paid a guy twenty bucks to switch lockers with him on the first day of school this year. I took that very personally.” I say it with a laugh, but I’m being completely transparent.

“I was trying to keep my distance. Shelby and I were friends before we started dating, so she knew I used to have a thing for you.”

That explains so much. “That’s why you said she’s only jealous of me and not other girls?”

“Yeah.” Miller leans casually against the couch again, his head resting against the back of it. He’s watching me process everything he just said. He’s staring back at me with so much vulnerability—like it just took a hell of a lot of courage for him to admit what he did, and he’s nervous about how I might respond.

I don’t even know how to react. I kind of want to change the subject because I feel awkward now. I don’t have anything to say that’ll impress him or make him feel as good as his words just made me feel. For those reasons, the most random thing comes out of my mouth. “Does your truck have a name?”

Miller squints, as if he’s wondering what the hell I’m talking about. Then he just laughs, and it’s the greatest, deepest laugh. “Yeah. Nora.”

“Why Nora?”

He hesitates. I love the smile that’s playing on his lips. “It’s a Beatles song.”

I recall the Beatles poster hanging in his bedroom. “So you’re a Beatles fan?”

He nods. “I have a lot of favorite bands. I love music. It feeds my soul.”

“What are your favorite lyrics?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “They’re not from the Beatles.”

“Who are they from?”

“A band called Sounds of Cedar.”

“Never heard of them, but I like the name.”