Chapter 4 Chapter 4
Mila’s first day at the Reed house began with regret.
Not the ordinary kind either. Not mild, manageable regret. This was cinematic regret, the sort that should’ve come with thunder and a warning narrator.
By three-fifteen, she was standing at the curb outside Briar Ridge High with her backpack on one shoulder and Mrs. Delaney’s printed directions in hand, questioning every life choice that had led here.
A black SUV pulled up in front of her.
The passenger window lowered.
Jaxon looked over from the driver’s seat. “You coming, or are you planning to make this difficult on purpose?”
Mila stared at him. “I’m considering my options.”
“Any good ones?”
“Not currently.”
He leaned over and pushed the passenger door open. “Get in, Santos.”
She hated that his voice made the inside of her stomach go strange.
She got in anyway.
The ride was awkward in the specific, unbearable way only forced proximity could be. The truck smelled faintly like clean laundry, leather, and whatever cologne he used sparingly enough to be unfair. Mila angled toward the window, clutching her bag on her lap.
Jaxon merged into traffic. “Lucy’s excited.”
“That makes one of us.”
He glanced at her briefly. “You don’t have to sound like you’re being driven to execution.”
“I prefer emotional accuracy.”
That earned the smallest huff of laughter.
Mila refused to enjoy it.
They drove in silence for another minute before she said, “So let me guess. Your father works late, your sitter vanished, and now I’m the emergency patch because your family can throw money at problems.”
His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “My dad works late because he has to.”
Something in his tone made her look over.
He kept his eyes on the road. “The plant cut management last year. He took on extra shifts instead of letting people under him lose theirs.”
That took some wind out of her assumptions.
“Oh,” she said.
“Yeah.”
Mila looked back out the window. “Still doesn’t explain why this suddenly became my problem.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It just explains why it became ours.”
She didn’t answer.
The Reed house sat in one of the newer neighborhoods on the north side of town, where everything looked expensive in a tasteful, irritating way. Wide porches. polished lawns. Mailboxes that probably had investment portfolios.
Jaxon parked in the driveway and cut the engine.
Mila stared at the house. “This is obscene.”
“It’s just a house.”
“It has columns.”
“They came with it.”
She gave him a flat look. “That sentence alone is a hate crime.”
The front door flew open before he could respond.
A blur in sparkly sneakers launched herself down the steps.
“Mila!”
Lucy Reed hit her like a tiny missile and wrapped both arms around her waist. Mila barely managed not to drop her bag.
“Hi, Lu.”
Lucy leaned back, beaming. “You came to my house.”
“I did notice that, yes.”
“I told Dad you would because you’re responsible and smart.”
Jaxon grabbed Mila’s bag from where it had slipped down her arm. “Cool, so no pressure.”
Lucy ignored him with professional ease. “Come inside. I have upgrades.”
“Upgrades to what?”
“My robot. Obviously.”
Mila followed her into the house before she could second-guess the warmth blooming in her chest.
The inside was less intimidating than the outside. Bigger than Mila’s home, sure, and brighter, but lived-in. A pair of cleats sat by the entry. A pink backpack lay abandoned on the stairs. The kitchen island was covered in school papers, a fruit bowl, and what looked like an unfinished volcano made from papier-mâché.
Jaxon dropped Mila’s bag near the counter. “Dad left dinner instructions. Lucy has reading homework, then snack, then no more than an hour of screen time.”
“I know how babysitting works.”
He leaned against the counter. “You say that like I’m personally offensive.”
“You are personally offensive.”
Lucy popped up between them with a solemn expression. “You two talk like divorced lawyers.”
Mila choked on a laugh.
Jaxon groaned. “Great. Fantastic. I’m being bullied in my own home.”
Lucy grabbed Mila’s hand. “Come see the robot.”
Mila let herself be dragged into the living room, where pieces of circuitry, duct tape, and one suspiciously glittery wheel were spread across the coffee table.
For the next half hour, she forgot to be tense.
That was Lucy’s gift. She was all energy and ideas and total sincerity. She asked questions while she worked, not because she wanted attention but because she genuinely wanted answers. Mila loved that kind of curiosity. It felt honest.
Jaxon lingered long enough to hand Lucy a snack and remind her not to glue anything to the hardwood floor, then disappeared upstairs to change for practice.
Mila was helping Lucy debug a problem with the robot’s sensor when footsteps sounded on the stairs again.
She looked up.
That was a mistake.
Jaxon had changed into gray practice shorts and a fitted Briar Ridge football shirt that clung in deeply unhelpful ways. His hair was damp, like he’d splashed water on his face, and he carried himself with that lazy athletic confidence she usually found annoying.
Usually.
Right now, it was a little harder to think clearly.
Lucy looked up too. “You smell better.”
“Thanks?” Jaxon said.
“It means before, you smelled like outside and arrogance.”
Mila laughed before she could stop herself.
Both Reeds looked at her.
Jaxon’s expression shifted first, surprise softening into something warmer. “There it is.”
Mila immediately frowned. “There what is?”
“That sound.”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t make this weird.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were about to.”
His mouth tilted, and before she could answer, Lucy shoved the robot at him. “Hold this.”
He did, obediently, while Mila adjusted the wire placement.
Their hands brushed over the plastic shell.
It was brief. Nothing. Barely contact.
Still, the awareness of him landed sharp and electric.
Mila pulled back first. “There. Try it now.”
Lucy pressed the button.
The robot rolled forward in a crooked line, turned twice, and announced in a tinny recorded voice, “Respect women and charge your batteries.”
Mila burst out laughing.
Lucy looked triumphant. “I made the voice line better.”
Jaxon looked between them, grinning despite himself. “Okay, that’s incredible.”
For a second, the room felt… easy.
Dangerously easy.
Then Jaxon checked the time and grabbed his duffel from by the door. “I’ve got to go. Dad should be home by seven-thirty. If he’s late, he’ll text.”
Lucy nodded without looking up from the robot.
Mila stood. “Wait.”
Jaxon paused.
She held out the schedule sheet he’d given her, now folded in half. “You forgot to add one thing.”
His brows drew together. “What?”
“If Kendra comes here, I’m leaving. Immediately.”
Something hard entered his expression. “She’s not coming here.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am.” His voice dropped. “She doesn’t get to make you uncomfortable in my house.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Mila covered by lifting one shoulder. “Good.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Lucy said, without looking up, “If you guys kiss later, do it after dinner because I hate emotional interruptions.”
Silence.
Mila nearly dropped the paper in her hand.
Jaxon turned slowly. “Lucy.”
“What?” She looked up innocently. “I’m just saying there’s tension.”
Mila could actually feel heat climbing into her face. “There is absolutely no tension.”
Lucy nodded in a way that suggested she did not believe that for one second.
Jaxon dragged a hand down his face. “I’m leaving now.”
“That seems wise,” Mila muttered.
He looked at her then, and to Mila’s deep annoyance, there was laughter in his eyes.
“See you later, babysitter.”
She pointed toward the door. “Go get tackled.”
He left still smiling.
Which was rude.
By six-thirty, Lucy had finished homework, eaten apple slices with peanut butter, and convinced Mila to help build a blanket fort in the living room. Mila was crawling out from under one side with a flashlight when the doorbell rang.
She froze.
Lucy looked up from inside the fort. “We’re not expecting anyone.”
Mila’s stomach tightened. “Stay here.”
She crossed the foyer and opened the door.
Kendra Vale stood on the porch in a cropped jacket, glossy hair, and a smile like a sharpened blade.
“Well,” Kendra said, eyes sliding past Mila into the house. “I guess the rumors are true.”
Mila went cold.
“I’m here to see Jaxon.”
“He’s not here.”
Kendra’s gaze returned to Mila, slow and poisonous. “I can see that. Interesting replacement, though.”
Mila gripped the door harder. “Leave.”
Kendra leaned one shoulder against the frame like she had every right. “You really think babysitting his sister means you matter?”
Lucy’s small footsteps sounded behind Mila.
That did it.
Mila stepped onto the porch and pulled the door nearly shut behind her. “You do not get to come here and say things like that in front of her.”
For the first time, Kendra looked thrown.
Mila took another step forward. “Whatever issue you have with me, keep it at school. But if you bring it to a child’s front door again, I will make you regret it.”
Kendra stared.
Then, in the driveway behind her, a truck door slammed.
Jaxon.
His footsteps hit the pavement fast.
His eyes moved from Kendra to Mila to the nearly closed front door, and whatever he saw in Mila’s face changed his completely.
“Kendra,” he said, voice flat as steel. “Get off my porch.”
And Mila knew, with a certainty that unsettled her, that nothing about this arrangement was going to stay simple for long.
