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I stop in my tracks, closing my eyes for a moment as I contemplate just how much the universe must hate me.

“Max?”

I turn around to find Milo standing a few feet behind me, watching me expectantly.

“If you take me home, I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“No talking.”

His brows draw together, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before he nods. “Understood.”

“I’m serious, Milo.”

“So am I.”

I narrow my gaze at him before turning on my heel and heading toward the makeshift parking area at the edge of the woods, where everyone left their cars before making their way to tonight’s party. He follows a few steps behind, keeping his mouth shut as promised.

At least one of us knows how to follow instructions.

When we reach his truck, I climb into the passenger seat before he can attempt to open the door for me. Milo gets behind the wheel, but instead of starting the engine, he leans across the center console, reaching for my seat belt.

I snatch it up before he can touch it, pulling it across my chest and clicking it into place myself.

His hand freezes halfway.

For a moment, he simply stares at the space between us. Then his fingers flex before he slowly withdraws his hand and settles back into his seat.

He doesn’t say a word.

Good.

That’s exactly what I wanted.

Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself as he starts the engine and pulls away from the mill.

The drive home is painfully quiet. Milo keeps his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel, while I stare out the passenger window, watching the familiar streets of Fairhope pass us by. Every now and then, I catch him glancing in my direction, but he never attempts to break the silence.

Which should make me happy.

Instead, it only makes the ache in my chest that much worse.

By the time he pulls up in front of my house, I already have my hand on the door handle.

“Thanks for the ride,” I mutter, pushing the door open.

I barely have one foot on the pavement when I hear him unbuckle his seat belt.

“Don’t bother. I can walk the few feet to my front door perfectly fine by myself, Milo.”

“Okay, but can I at least say something?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “We had a deal.”

“I know. And I’ve kept it.” He pauses, his tone turning serious. “But if this is the last time I’ll ever speak to you, then at least let me say this one thing. Please, Max.”

I should tell him no. I should get out of this truck, march straight into my house, and put an end to what has already been an emotionally exhausting evening.