Chapter 52: What she wants?

Alan's POV

On my way back from the convenience store, I heard yelling from down the street.

Not angry yelling. Competitive idiot yelling.

I already knew who it was before I even turned the corner. Sammy and Milie.

I slowed automatically, watching them argue in the middle of the sidewalk like two twelve-year-olds.

A smile pulled at my mouth before I could stop it.

Then reality hit again. "Isn't she supposed to be on a date with Dax tonight?"

"What is she doing here?" The thought sat weirdly in my chest.

It had been days since she told me about it, but somehow my brain refused to let it go.

Things between us had changed after that coffee.

I stopped flirting as much. Stopped letting myself hope too much. At least, I tried.

But even after deciding to back off, she still lived in my head constantly.

Milie spotted me first.

"Alan!" she called instantly. A warm smile spread across her face as if she felt happy to see me.

Sammy pointed dramatically. "Perfect timing. You're our referee."

"Yeah," Milie added quickly. "But no favoritism."

"Especially no friendship bias," Sammy said seriously.

I raised both hands immediately. "Wow. Good to know neither of you trusts me."

"Sorry," Milie said, fighting a smile. "But Sammy's clearly your favorite."

Sammy looked at her for a second before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my God."

She frowned. "What?"

"You get jealous of me, too?"

"What? No."

"I thought you only got jealous when girls got close to Alan."

Milie froze. Completely froze. And my idiot heart immediately noticed it.

Sammy kept laughing, fully unaware of the damage he'd just done.

I looked at her, slowly grinning. "God, I hated how much I liked it when she got jealous."

"Because for a second, it made me feel wanted."

Milie rolled her eyes quickly, trying to recover.

"Can we race now?"

I laughed softly and kicked off my flip-flops before walking toward the finish line barefoot.

"Fine. But nobody cries after losing."

Milie and Sammy sprinted first.

Sammy won by barely half a second, and Milie looked personally betrayed by life afterward.

"You cheated."

"Accept it. You're slow."

"I literally touched the car first."

"You touched the air."

I laughed watching them argue. Then I looked at Milie.

"Race me."

Her eyes lit up immediately. "Destroy him, Alan."

"Oh, wow," Sammy said. "So betrayal is happening publicly now?"

"You'll survive."

Sammy and I got into position while Milie stood near the curb, dramatically acting like an Olympic judge.

"Ready?" she yelled.

"Ready."

"Go!"

We took off running. And unfortunately, Sammy absolutely destroyed me, too.

Milie looked genuinely devastated. "I hate this game."

Laughing, I threw an arm around her shoulders naturally.

"Don't worry, Mils. We'll train and come back stronger."

Without thinking, she wrapped both arms around me dramatically. "Yes. Revenge training starts tomorrow."

I looked down at her, smiling, but it faltered as— "Hey."

Everything shifted instantly. Daxton stood a few feet away near the sidewalk.

And his eyes were on us, more specifically, on Milie wrapped around me.

My arm dropped immediately. At almost the same time, she stepped away too.

No anger crossed Dax's face—just awareness.

Like, suddenly all three of us became conscious of something we'd been pretending not to notice.

The air turned weirdly tight.

Milie walked toward him with an awkward smile. "We were racing."

"Yeah," Dax said quietly. "I saw."

Then his expression softened when he looked at her. "You ready?"

She nodded, and he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers naturally.

I looked down immediately and pretended to fix my flip-flops.

Because, for some reason, watching that hurt more tonight.

"Reservations' at eight," Dax said softly.

Something inside me sank in hearing it out loud—an actual date.

Sammy suddenly yelled from behind us. "Please don't abandon me forever for romance!"

Dax laughed lightly and lifted a thumbs-up without turning around. Milie smiled too.

Then, right before leaving, she looked back at me, and our eyes met.

For one strange second, it felt like she didn't want to leave.

Which, honestly, only made things worse.

"Hey." Sammy nudged my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"You wanna hang out?"

I looked at him. "Just us?"

"Yeah."

Honestly, sitting alone with my thoughts sounded dangerous at the moment. So I nodded.

"Give me five minutes."

About twenty minutes later, we were sitting at a pub nearby.

Dim lights. Loud music. Sticky tables. Very college-core.

Sammy took a sip of his drink before suddenly saying—

"Alan… I kinda owe you an apology."

I frowned slightly.

"For what?"

He stared at the counter for a second before answering.

"For pushing you toward Milie."

That caught me off guard. "Sammy—"

"No, listen." He exhaled quietly. "You're genuinely good for her."

I stayed silent.

"She lets you into spaces nobody gets access to."

His words hit harder than he probably realized.

"You broke through walls that took years for other people even to touch."

I looked down at my glass. "Still, she can't choose me." I wished to say aloud, but I didn't.

"But…" Sammy rubbed the back of his neck. "Dax is my brother."

There it was.

"He's stupidly in love with her, Alan."

He was not biased. He was just honest.

"I genuinely think his entire future has Milie written all over it."

I swallowed quietly.

"And I can't ignore that."

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then I picked up my drink casually before he could see too much on my face.

"You don’t need to apologize."

And weirdly, I meant it because none of this was really anyone's fault.

Sammy studied me for a second before suddenly grinning again. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You turned out disappointing."

I blinked. "What?"

"I thought heartbreak would make you cooler."

I barked out a laugh. "Excuse me? I'm extremely cool."

"Nah." He pointed at me dramatically. "You're emotionally stable. That's boring."

"And you," I deadpanned, "have the emotional maturity of a sloth."

"Hehehe… that's why people love me."

He winked, and I laughed again despite myself.

And somewhere between bad drinks, terrible music, and Sammy's nonstop nonsense, for the first time in days, my chest hurt a little less.