Chapter 22

Noah

I didn’t ring Millie that day. I didn’t ring her that night or that week. Her number was a constant niggle at the back of my mind, and more times than I could count, I pulled out my phone and looked at the contact details, my thumb hovering over it. I could call, text, send her a video, something, but it was now I was forced to face an uncomfortable truth.

There was a very good reason why I’d never bothered to make contact with Millie.

It wouldn’t be hard to find her. I had social media friend requests from all sorts of people I went to school with, including those I couldn’t freaking stand. I could’ve done the same for her. Slid into her DMs, started talking about old times… But the longer I put that off, the safer I was. I could go on dates or hang out with a dream Millie whenever the hell I wanted, and she was always cool and funny and more important, receptive. In my head, she never rejected me. I stared at the phone, able to see it inside my head, how it’d go. A gentle brush off, or a not so soft one, where she made clear that she never wanted anything more than a wild night with three guys.

That it meant nothing more than scratching an itch.

But her voice, when she confessed what I was to her. I’d examined and re-examined it over and over inside my head, that taut tone. For just a moment, I could convince myself that it hurt her.

I’d hurt her.

A weird combination of shame and need had me feeling antsy, pacing back and forth, until weeks later, Knox came walking around the fire truck we were supposed to be cleaning.

“What’re you doing?” he snapped, looking at me, then my phone.

“Obsessing over some bullshit on his phone,” Henry supplied helpfully.

“What…?”

He plucked it from my grip, even as I frowned and tried to snatch it back. Knox looked at my screen, then sighed. That look of resignation, even of empathy, killed me, forcing me to take a step back. He sucked in a breath and I knew I was gonna get a bollocking. It was what he did whenever we pissed him off, but right as I was bracing myself for the onslaught, he tapped on my screen and handed the phone back to me. I stared at it in alarm, seeing the phone was ringing.

“Nut up or shut up, remember?” he said in much more gentle tones. “Rip the Band-Aid off, mate. She’ll either talk to you or she won’t, but then you’ll know.”

And then he turned and walked away. I looked at the phone like it was a live snake or something, but fuck, I faced down fires, ran into buildings that were collapsing around us. I saved people. If I could be brave then, surely I could…

“Hey, it's Millie,” a recorded voice said. “You know what to do.”

But I didn’t. I just stood there, phone to my ear, swallowing hard, because maybe that would dislodge the lump in my throat. Nope. I needed water, a Coke, something because?—

Beep. The call ended, and I was left staring at a blank screen.

Nut up or shut up. I heard Knox’s words echoing around in my head as I grabbed a sponge, scrubbing the truck down in big circles. Nut up or shut up. I remembered it when we rushed out later that day to the scene of a car crash. Cutting someone free, letting the ambulance workers do their job, the blood bright on the wreck’s dash. Cleaning off the road of debris, neutralising the fuel that had pooled out, I went through the motions, knowing exactly what to do.

And that certainty could extend to other parts of my life, I thought, when I got home for the day.

We did everything wrong. I did everything wrong, I corrected myself. From letting Millie’s brothers intimidate me, from never letting her know what happened, to falling into bed with her the first night we reconnected. I kicked my own arse for a day or two about that, but when one of the guys remarked on my shitty mood, I knew something needed to be done. Dream Millie was perfect inside my head, never complaining, always receptive, but that wasn’t a relationship. It was a delusion that kept me from moving forward.

“Have a good break,” Brent said, clapping me on the shoulder. “You catching up with family for Christmas?”

“No, I’ve got other plans,” I told him, “but have a good one yourself, Boss.”

Everyone went home for Christmas, and while I didn’t know where Millie lived now, I did know where her parents’ house was. My family home was only streets away. Instead of dropping in to see Mum and Dad, I put on a nice shirt, scraped my hair back from my face, and sprayed on what was probably too much aftershave. Staring into the mirror, I could still see him, that skinny kid who let every bastard push him around, but with a blink, I knew I wasn’t him anymore. Maybe we could start again. Maybe Millie only meant to block Charlie. Maybe we could pretend none of that shit happened, at either party.

There comes a time when the pain of staying where you are outweighs the pain of moving forward, that was what my personal trainer had said to me, and that’s where I was now. I picked up the massive bouquet of flowers and the box of chocolates I’d grabbed last minute and then headed for the door.

I want to say I headed straight to Millie’s parents front door when I arrived, but I didn’t. Nut up or shut up, it sounded so simple, but none of those words took into account the fucking fear coursing through my veins. It was do or die time. Today I would know whether she cared at all for me or had left all that shit behind in high school. That had me forcing my car door open and then walking up their front path. My hand lifted of its own accord, all that adrenaline having to go somewhere, and I knocked on the door.

My pulse beat even faster as I heard footsteps, but I held my ground. I’d been through tougher shit than this. I could handle rejection, the look of confusion, then distress in Millie’s eyes. If she wasn’t into me, I’d just turn around and?—

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hayden, or was it Hunter, looked me up and down with the same disgust on his face from all those years ago.

“Who the…?” The other twin appeared, and his brows jerked down as his hands turned to fists. “Oh, nah, no fucking way.”

“I need to see Millie,” I said, because things were different. I wasn’t a dumb kid anymore, and the ferocious reputation of the McDonald twins was nothing to me. They were nothing to me. “I just want to talk?—”

“I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?” one of them snarled as they both walked out of the door.

I didn’t want to give ground, not one inch, but it was either that or cause a fight on Millie’s parents front lawn on Christmas Day. I backed off enough to let them face me down, then straightened to my full height. Watching them forced to look up at me was worth the price of admission, but getting revenge was not part of my plan.

“I just want to give her these, and if she doesn’t want me around, then I’ll go.”

They looked at the flowers then the chocolates, as if seeing them for the first time, then moved as one. Each item was snatched from my grip, bringing back memories I never willingly thought about. My bag ripped from my shoulder; my books knocked out of my hands… I shook them off and focussed on them.

“We’ll make sure Mills gets them,” one of the twins sneered, both of them backing off abruptly, and that’s when I made my mistake. I was squaring up, ready to fight the pricks, but they were beating a hasty retreat. The door was wrenched open and they were back inside in seconds. “Now piss off before we call the cops.”

I rushed forward, but the door was slammed in my face.

Nut up or shut up, I kept on hearing that in my head, my heart beating faster now due to anger, not fear. Millie was a grown woman. It was up to her if she wanted to give me the brush off, not her Neanderthal brothers. I stepped back from the house, scanning the facade, looking for signs of her, but not finding them.

Creating a scene on Christmas Day was no way to approach a woman, but what those idiots didn’t realise was there was a card attached to the flowers. It had my contact details, a message, everything in there, but I wasn’t leaving it to fate to try and get through to Millie. I opened my contacts and tapped out a simple message, sending it to her without allowing myself second thoughts.

Can we talk?

I let out a long sigh. She’d either reply or she wouldn’t, and then I’d know. Nodding, I turned towards my car and got in, driving over to my parents’ place.