Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)

Ben offers his hand to shake. “It’s a deal.”

“I accept your deal.” Miles takes Ben’s hand and yanks him in for a hug. Seeing my little brother so affectionate with his son, as he’s always been, makes my heart kick. He’s done everything for his boy, all with no mom on the scene.

“I love you to Pluto and back,” Miles says.

“I love you to infinity and beyond.”

“I love you to the depths of the oceans and all the way to the sky.”

It’s too sweet, and I need some of that loving. I need a contact high. “What am I? Chopped liver? Give me some of that sugar.”

Ben rushes over and hugs my waist. “I love you, Uncle Miller. I’m going to miss you when we’re in London, but I know I’ll see you again soon. The tour is only a few weeks.”

“You’ll see me soon. That’s a promise, and I love you too. I love you like crazy.”

Miles chuckles.

I meet his gaze. “And I love you too, Dodgeball. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

As his suite at the Luxe becomes a gigantic lovefest, an idea knocks on my skull. A little tap at first, then louder, more insistent. It’s fueled by these two knuckleheads and the way they love.

All I need now is a plan.

Fortunately, there’s a date on my calendar that feels perfect for a target.





Chapter 31





Miller

Part of the plan is making sure Ally knows I’ll always be her friend, first and foremost. Even if we never become anything more, I want her to feel the same certainty with me that Ben feels with his dad.

I want her to feel safe and confident.

I text her that night.

Miller: At the end of time, is it best to be aligned with robots or zombies?



Ally: Talk about a hard question . . . Battling both was exhausting. Ultimately, zombies are the worst. (PS: I was just about to text you.)



Miller: PS: Mind meld. Also, zombies are absolutely the worst.



Ally: But robots are quite totalitarian. So pick your poison.



Miller: I’ll take door number three, please.



Ally: Good choice. Also, it’s really nice to hear from you.



Miller: Did you think I would disappear?



Ally: Honestly?



Miller: Why would I want you to be anything but honest?





Inside, though, I’m a coiled ball of tension. I hope to God she knew I’d text—just because our benefits arrangement ended, it wouldn’t change my role in her life. I need her to know I’m not simply fun-and-games Miller. That I’m the guy she can depend on.





Ally: Honestly, I never doubted it. Or you. But I also still LOVE it.





She didn’t say she loves me. But loving it—hearing from me—is a good start.





Miller: I’m glad you know you can depend on me. Also, I have big news here at Casa Hart!



Ally: Tell me, tell me!



Miller: I scored a foosball table.



Ally: Finally! Can’t wait to play it.



Miller: You have an open invite.



Ally: And did you say goodbye to Miles and Ben?



Miller: Yeah, and I miss them already.



Ally: Aww. Hopefully, they can visit again soon. Also, I want to tell you something.



Miller: Speak now, please. :)



Ally: I like being friends with you. I was sad today, missing what we’d had. But I’m glad to know we can still talk like this.



Miller: You can count on me, Ally.



Ally: Same here. You can count on me, Miller.





I slump into my couch pillows, a little pang in my chest over the prospect of being just friends with her. But I sit up again, because I need to be happy with just friends. We might only ever be friends. And I’m going to be fine with that, even though I want more. For now, I start to tap out goodnight, but another message from her pops up.





Ally: OMG, did you see this?



Miller: See what?



Ally: Gah! This is the cutest thing ever!





I wait for her reply, willing it to come faster. What is she talking about? Otters holding paws? A cat playing the piano? Come to think of it, that would be impressive.

I swipe my thumb over the dial pad to call her when a video appears in my text.

The thumbnail looks like it’s from a coffee shop. I hit play, and I’m transported back to the day Campbell and I listened to auditions at Dr. Insomnia’s before playing an impromptu number that the woman who wore the maroon hat caught on camera. She’d said she wouldn’t post it, but I guess she caved.

As I watch, I smile, because Ally and I are going to sing that song in two nights at our gig. I let my mind replay all the times we’ve sung it before. All the times we’ve sung other songs, both covers and originals. There’s something there. Something more than chemistry. More than an itch that needed to be scratched.

I go to YouTube, and I look up one of Ally’s most famous videos—when she and Kirby sang “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” mashed up with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

What if we could be a mash-up—friends and lovers?

There’s only one way to find out.





Chapter 32





Ally



I reread the texts the next morning.

They’re just texts, but they’re also so much more.

They’re Miller and me being, well, Miller and me.

They tell me we can go back to the way we were.

But when I shower, I remember Miller’s hands in my hair, and when Chloe and I board the subway, I recall every time I’ve taken the train with him. When we walk toward Bryant Park, and I think of all the times Miller has met me here, there, and everywhere in this city, I know my brother was right.

Miller’s committed, and so am I. Sure, our singing agreement might have a deadline, but our friendship never has. We never have. And if I don’t let him know I want this new us, we’ll never get the chance to work out if Miller and Ally could be a couple with no deadline.

But how the heck do I tell him?

Do I send him a letter? Knock on his door? Do a tap dance?

I push the thoughts aside to zero in on Chloe’s project.

“I think the lion is going to be perfect,” Chloe says, as she angles closer to the statues guarding the building entrance and snaps a photo. She shows it to me on the screen on the back of her camera.

I give her a thumbs-up. “I heartily approve.”

We’re at the New York Public Library because she wanted to take pictures of it for her photography class, and because she wants to check out a book.

She grabs my hand as we head up the steps. “Can you recommend a good young adult story? You might know one or two.”

“Just a few.” I chuckle. “What are you in the mood for? Dystopian tales? Space battles? Epic sagas of magic and vengeance? Contemporary teens dealing with everyday loss and love?”

Her green eyes twinkle. “The last one. Ideally with a heroine cool like you.”

“Ooh, cool like me.”

“I speak the truth.”

“Keep speaking it,” I say, and as we head inside, Chloe takes more photos.

Once we check out several books, we wander down Fifth Avenue, passing a Christmas display at a boutique.

“Do you know what you’re getting Miller for Christmas?” she asks.

“Nope. Any ideas?”

“You could always get him Skittles. You could get him a lifetime supply of hot chocolate. Or you could get him a new version of Bananagrams, since he likes all those things.”

“Santa could hire you as an elf.”

“Or you could get him something else. What’s the thing he wants most in the world?” she asks as we stop at a light.

Instantly, I know the answer.



*

I do some research to confirm my theory. I want to be certain. I also want to be armed. Like a lawyer, I prep to make a case before the jury of one. I gather my evidence. I call upon my best witnesses.

The first order of business is to visit Mackenzie.

She’s not even surprised when I tell her my idea. “It’s brilliant,” she declares.