It’s positioned in an odd spot. It’s not in the center of the room or even in front of the couch. I’m confused about why he placed it where he did if he knows where it would look the best.
“I left it there because I was hoping we could christen it first.”
I look back up at him and see the adorably hopeful expression on his face. It makes me smile. “I like that idea,” I say, looking back down at the rug.
A long silence passes between us. I’m not sure if he wants to christen the rug right this minute or if he wants to eat first. I’m fine with either. As long as his plan fits within my three-hour time frame.
We’re both still staring at the rug when he speaks again. “I’ll eat later,” he says, answering the question that was silently running through my head.
He pulls off his shirt, and I kick off my shoes, and the rest of our clothes eventually end up together, next to the rug.
chapter sixteen
MILES
Six years earlier
Everything is better now that I have Rachel.
Falling asleep is better, knowing Rachel is falling asleep right across the hall.
Waking up every morning is so much better, knowing Rachel is waking up right across the hall.
Going to school is better, now that we go together.
“Let’s skip today,” I tell Rachel when we pull into the parking lot of the school.
I’m sure skipping school is even better with Rachel.
“What if we get caught?”
She doesn’t sound like she really cares if we get caught.
“I hope we get caught,” I tell her. “That means we’d be grounded. Together. In the same house.”
My words make Rachel smile. She leans across the seat and slides her hand around my neck. I love it when she does that. “Being grounded with you sounds really fun. Let’s do it.” She leans forward and gives me a simple, quick peck on the lips.
Simple kisses are better when they’re from Rachel.
“You make everything better,” I tell her. “My life. It’s better with you in it.”
My words make Rachel smile again. Rachel doesn’t know this, but every word I speak is voiced for that sole reason. To make her smile.
I pull out of the parking lot and tell Rachel we’re going to the beach. She says she wants her bathing suit, so we go to the house first and get our bathing suits. We also pack a lunch and a blanket.
We go to the beach.
Rachel wants to sunbathe while she reads.
I want to watch Rachel sunbathe while she reads.
She’s lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. I lay my head on my arms and watch her.
My eyes follow the smooth curves of her shoulders . . . the sway in her back . . . the way her knees are bent and her legs are up in the air with her feet crossed at the ankles.
Rachel is happy.
I make Rachel happy.
I make Rachel’s life better.
Her life is better with me in it.
“Rachel,” I whisper.
She places her bookmark inside the book and closes it, but she doesn’t look at me.
“I want you to know something.”
She nods, but she closes her eyes as though she wants to focus on my voice and nothing else.
“When my mom died, I stopped believing in God.”
She lays her head on her arms and keeps her eyes shut.
“I didn’t think God would make someone go through that much physical pain. I didn’t think God would make someone suffer like she suffered. I didn’t think God was capable of making someone go through something so ugly.”
A tear falls from Rachel’s closed eyes.
“But then I met you, and every single day since then, I’ve wondered how someone could be so beautiful if there wasn’t a God. I’ve wondered how someone could make me so incredibly happy if God didn’t exist. And I realized . . . just now . . . that God gives us the ugliness so we don’t take the beautiful things in life for granted.”
My words don’t make Rachel smile.
My words make Rachel frown.
My words make Rachel cry.
“Miles,” she whispers.
She says my name so quietly it’s as if she doesn’t want me to hear it.
She looks at me, and I can see that this moment isn’t one of the beautiful moments for her. Not like it is for me.
“Miles . . . I’m late.”
chapter seventeen
TATE
Corbin: Want to grab dinner? What time do you get off work?
Me: Ten minutes. Where at?
Corbin: We’re nearby. We’ll just meet you out front.
We?
I can’t ignore the excitement that just flooded me with that text. Surely the we means him and Miles. I can’t think of anyone else who would be coming with him, and I know Miles came home last night.
I finish up the last of my paperwork, then make a stop in the restroom to check my hair （I hate that I care） before heading outside to meet them.
The three of them are standing near the entrance when I walk outside. Ian and Miles are both with Corbin. Ian smiles when he sees me, since he’s the only one facing me. Corbin spins around when I reach them.
“Ready? We’re going to Jack’s.”
They’re quite the team. All good-looking in their own ways but even more so when they’re sporting their pilot jackets and walking in a group like this. I can’t deny I feel somewhat underdressed, walking next to them in my scrubs. “Let’s do it,” I say. “I’m starving.”
I glance at Miles, and he gives me the slightest nod but no smile. His hands are planted firmly in the pockets of his jacket, and he looks away as we all begin walking. He stays a step ahead of me the entire time, so I walk next to Corbin.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask as we head toward the restaurant. “Are we celebrating the fact that all three of you are off on the same night?”
A silent conversation passes around me. Ian looks at Miles. Corbin looks at Ian. Miles looks at no one. He keeps his eyes forward, focused on the sidewalk ahead of us.
“Remember when we were kids and Mom and Dad took us to La Caprese?” Corbin asks.
I remember that night. I’ve never seen my parents happier. I couldn’t have been older than five or six, but it’s one of the few memories I have from that young an age. It was the day my father made captain with his airline.
I stop in my tracks and immediately look at Corbin. “You made captain? You can’t get captain. You’re too young.” I know for a fact how hard it is to make captain and how many hours a pilot has to put in to be considered. Most pilots in their twenties are copilots.
Corbin shakes his head. “I didn’t get captain. I’ve changed airlines too much.” He cuts his eyes to Miles. “But Mr. Sign Me Up for More Hours over here got a nice little promotion today. Broke the company record.”
I look at Miles, and he’s shaking his head at Corbin. I can tell he’s embarrassed that Corbin just called him out, but his modesty is just one more thing I find appealing about him. I have a feeling that if their friend Dillon were ever to make captain, he’d be on top of a bar somewhere, announcing it to the entire world with a megaphone.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Miles says. “It’s a regional airline. Not many people to promote.”
Ian shakes his head. “I didn’t get promoted. Corbin didn’t get promoted. Dillon didn’t get promoted. You’ve been at this a year less than any of us, not to mention the fact that you’re only twenty-four.” He spins around and walks backward, facing all three of us. “Abandon the modesty for once, man. Rub it in our faces a little. We’d do it to you if the roles were reversed.”