Brea

"Siri, where is the closest coffee shop?"

My phone thinks for a moment before chirping back a response. The map tells me it is a forty-three-minute walk. Sighing, I pull up the number for the taxi service. I dial and listen to the line ring out. After three attempts, I give up, scowling. I don't know how anyone enjoys living out here.

Wiping a hand down my face, I groan. Sweat drips down the back of my neck from the unrelenting heat. My bronze skin is turning a light shade of red from being out in the sun for too long unprotected.

Cupping my hand in a half-moon shape, I watch silently as a familiar looking ute rumbles toward me. I purposely ignore it as it idles to stop.

"Hi!"

Reluctantly, I look up, to see Mila beaming at me, her cheeks a pretty, rosy red.

A frowning Zander leans over her head. "What are you doing standing out there in this heat?"

"I'm trying to find a way back to town."

Exhaling heavily, he leans back. "Get in."

"No thanks."

"It's too hot for you to be standing out here. I'm heading back that way."

"With the guy who stood me up with no proper explanation? I'll pass."

"Please!" Mila says. "We are getting ice cream."

Damn. Ice cream sounds amazing right now.

"Get in the truck before I make you."

A shiver of something rolls down my spine at his commanding tone. Scowling, I awkwardly climb over the booster seat that Mila is in. I slip in between the baby seat and Zander who seems to take up most of the space.

Our arms rub against each other and I try not to show indifference.

"Thanks, I guess." I say, just to say something.

"You're welcome, I guess."

Mila claps her hands together in excitement.

"Yours?" I ask, my eyes drifting toward his bare fingers. No ring, thankfully. That would have made this awkward situation so much worse. If she is, he would have had to have been very young, but that isn't unusual around here.

"Hmm?"

"Mila?" I say.

"She's my niece."

Zander drums his fingers against the steering wheel. I shift, trying to peel myself from him and lean toward Mila, but there's no space to do such thing. I feel the sweat forming on my brow but don't want to wipe it off and draw attention to it.

"Uncle Z loves hanging out with me," Mila proudly boasts. "I'm his favourite niece."

"My only niece," he points out.

"I love your nails," I smile at her. The sparkly pink polish is more on her fingers than her nails. "Did you do them yourself?"

"Uh huh," she nods, wiggling her fingers around to further show them off.

"Very pretty!"

Settling back against the seat once more, I look ahead. I try to think of more things to say to Mila, so I can avoid this awkward silence, but I draw a blank.

"How long are you here for?"

Zander's voice is deep and rough, but warm and soft at the same time. I could listen to him talk for hours, which would probably be an impossible task since he doesn't speak more than he has to, although he does try to make effort when we're in forced proximity such as this.

"I have no idea," I reply honestly. "Everything is up in the air at the moment."

"What brought you back?"

"I'm hungry!" Mila complains, wriggling her legs around impatiently.

"I know, sweetheart. We're almost there."

The ice around my heart thaws at that comment. It's obvious he cares a lot for his niece. It's very sweet.

"How did you get to the markets?" Zander asks nosily.

I roll a loose thread from my jeans between my fingers.

"Tris. She was just going for one thing. I told her I would work out a lift back."

Zander huffs. "You need to remember to think these things through. It's not like the city where you can hitch a ride on public transport."

"Yeah, no shit," I mutter.

"Naughty word!" Mila squeals and I wince, shooting Zander a guilty look.

"Sorry Mila."

"Nathan didn't offer?" Zander grumbles, looking like uttering my brother's name causes him physical pain.

"I don't think I'm in any position to ask him any favours, since we haven't spoken for years."

Zander glances at me, looking surprised. I look equally as surprised back at him.

"You don't seem like you know much about Nathan," I point out curiously.

"Neither do you."

"Before I left, you two were best of friends."

"Yeah," Zander scoffs, his casual grip on the steering wheel tightening, turning his knuckles white. "Things change."

Eyeing his thick-with-muscle body, I think back to the scrawny teenage boy I crushed so hard on for years.

"Mmhmm," I murmur softly, eyes wandering over his biceps. "They sure do."

"Why didn't you ever come back?" Zander asks, furrowing his brow, as if his mind is hard at work trying to figure me out.

"That's information reserved for someone who actually cares to get to know me, which you made very clearly, you don't."

A muscle in his cheek jumps, and he glares ahead. "I thought you were... I don't know. Doesn't matter now."

"Thought I was what?"

"Nathan and I don't get along. As in, we hate each other. More severely than any other person I've ever met. When I realised who you were, I thought... you two might have been concocting some sort of plan together."

I blink at him before bursting out laughing. "That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard."

Scowling, a flush creeps up his neck. "Made sense in my head."

"I'm still waiting for an apology."

Mila puts down her toy, her eyes slingshotting between us two.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth.

Leaning closer to him, I curl my hand around my ear. "What was that?"

"Sorry!" He huffs. "Okay? I'm sorry. That was a dick move."

"Naughty word!"

We both roll our eyes and settle back into our seats.

"That was a terrible apology, but I accept."

Shaking his head, he stares out the window.

A few moments later, we are pulling up out the front of the ice cream shop. Mila squeals in excitement, shifting, and squirming in her seat to try and get loose. Zander exits the truck and hovers by the door, offering me his hand. His skin is rough against mine as he helps me down.

"Thanks," I say. "I'll be right from here."

"Nooo!" Mila protests from behind me. "You have to get ice cream with us!"

Zander's eyes meet mine briefly as he rounds the car. Relenting, I follow them inside the small shop. It's not exactly like I have a packed schedule to keep me entertained while I'm here.

We order and find a seat near the back. We are the only ones in the small shop, so it's calm and quiet. 70's music plays softly from a dingy looking speaker in the back of the room. Thankfully, the seat is near the window and a cool breeze washes over me.

The place hasn't changed much since I was last here. Given the heat, we would often beg mum to bring us here. I pause for a moment as I think back to the times when mum, Nathan, and myself were together. There weren't really that many times, which seems so strange to think about. Then again, she left him behind. And she never explained why she did.

"Thanks for the ride," I say again and this time, I manage to not sound like a brat. "I do appreciate it."

"I have a ute that you can borrow while you're here," he offers. "It's old and dusty, but it will get you from A to B."

I smile at the thought of me driving a farm ute around. I would look so out of place.

"Thank you, but I can't."

"You can't what?"

"I have my license, but I don't really drive. I don't need to, usually. When I do drive, I can only drive automatic cars."

Zander's spoon stops midway from his tub of ice cream and his mouth. His lips are parted as he blinks at me wordlessly.

"What?" I ask.

"It seriously blows my mind that you don't drive anywhere. It takes two hours of driving to get to the closest mall around here. Just seems... crazy to think about."

"I always wanted to learn but my mum insisted it was a useless skill to have."

"She never thought you'd want to come home?" he questions.

"She wouldn't let me."

Zander gaze sharpens. "That's a bit weird, don't you think?"

Standing suddenly, the chair I was seated on screeches against the linoleum floor.

"I'm going to the bathroom."

Rushing into the small bathroom, I lean heavily onto the sink. I lift my eyes to stare at my reflection. My mother's face stares back at me. Shaking my head, I look back to the mirror, seeing myself blinking back this time. Exhaling, I hang my head, focusing on breathing evenly.

Thinking about my mother, our past here, it's too much. It's unlocking a vault I haven't had any intention of opening. I was foolish thinking I could come back here and not face the truth of all that has happened.

Plastering a bright smile onto my face, I head back to the table and drop into my seat. Zander's eyes on me feel like a physical touch but I ignore him, turning my attention to Mila.

"How's your ice cream?"

"Yum!" She smiles, revealing several missing teeth. She has ice cream smeared around her face as high up as her eyebrows.

"Finish up, Missy Moo," Zander says, glancing down at his worn-leather watch. "Time to get you home."

When Mila finishes, I take her to the bathroom to clean her face and wash our hands.

"You really are such a pretty girl, Mila," I pinch her cheeks softly.

She giggles, hiding beneath the bundle of curls in front of her face. Steering her back out to the entrance where Zander is waiting, he offers me a half-smile in thanks.

"Are you and Uncle Z in love?" she asks.

Both of us whip our heads so fast we could have had a contest on who moved the fastest. Zander is scowling and my face is twisted as if I just got stung by a bee.

"No." We both say at the same time.

She looks between us for a moment, shrugs, and marches toward the truck. Both of us refuse to look at the other as I climb into the truck and Zander settles Mila into her seat. The trip to my hotel is short, silent, and awkward. I'm sweating and feeling all kinds of gross. This place is just disgusting. Dirty, hot, and dusty.

"Thanks," I say.

Zander says nothing.

"So, is there going to be a do-over for the date?"

For the love of God, why did I say that? I'm angry at this man of standing me up, why am I volunteering to put myself at risk of being stood up again? I swear my mouth has a mind of its own sometimes because I can't even be sure I want to go on a date with him.

"No," he says, not looking at me. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Rejection slaps me so hard in the face, I physically take a step back. His face falls for a moment before his jaw hardens and he glares forward.

"No wonder my brother doesn't like you," I say quietly. "He's always been a good judge of character."

The veins in his arm protrude as his grip tightens. I force a smile as I give Mila's small arm a gentle squeeze.

"Lovely to meet you, Mila. I hope you had a fun day."

"Bye Rapunze1!"

I slam the door shut with more force than necessary and trudge back into the hotel. It's not until I'm inside that the tears spill over.

A desperate feeling to escape fills me. A sob slips from my lips as I bang my head against the door.

I don't want to stay here, but I have nothing to go back to.

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