Page 24 of Before This Ends (Before)

“Yeah, see you,” I murmur, watching him turn and walk away. Once he’s out of sight, I spin around to face Miles. “What was that?”

“What?” he asks, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into the apartment so he can shut the door.

“That!” I wave a hand toward the door. “You were so rude.”

He scoffs. “I was not rude.”

“‘We’ve got it covered.’ ‘You did tell her you wanted the apartment back,’” I say, deepening my voice in an attempt to sound like him. “That was rude.”

“Are you afraid I hurt his feelings?”

“Yes.” I nod, and his eyes narrow. “And I’m pretty sure he thinks you and I have something going on.”

“And…”

“And…?” I repeat in disbelief.

“Do you still want to be with him?”

“No.” And that is surprisingly not a lie. I mean, sure, I still care about Eli, but I have zero desire to be in a relationship with him again.

“Then what does it matter?” he asks while beginning to take down the glasses from the cupboard. “He should have taken better care of you, Emma. If he had, I wouldn’t be here helping you pack your shit.”

“Bad word coin, Dad!” Winter shouts, making me jump.

I don’t know how I forgot that she’s here, but I did. Sending Winter a smile when I find her head turned our way, she smiles in return, then goes back to coloring. I turn to her dad.

“He’s not a bad guy,” I whisper to Miles, because Winter does not need to hear this conversation. “He didn’t beat me or call me names. Things just didn’t work out; we don’t want the same things. There are no hard feelings.”

“Yeah, and how long did you hold on, thinking youdidwant the same things, because he wasn’t honest with you?”

“Well, since you’ve obviously talked to Miranda about my relationship with him, I’m sure you already know the answer to that question. So, I don’t need to tell you myself,” I snap.

“Miranda didn’t talk to me about your relationship.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes.

“Tucker filled me in.” I watch his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile or maybe laugh.

“Do not laugh and piss me off, Miles.”

“Em, you’re already pissed,” he says quietly, and I let out a frustrated breath and drop my arms to my sides.

“I’m not pissed. I’m annoyed.” I point at him. “You are annoying.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sure you have,” I grumble, and he grins at me.

Nothing about Miles should be categorized as cute, not when he is so obviously masculine, with an air of dominance that is recognizable even if he doesn’t wear it like a shiny badge. Still, his grin is cute and playful, which means it’salsoannoying.

“Are we going to continue to argue or are we going to finish packing?” he asks as I glare at him.

“Leave a few glasses and at least a couple of pots and pans,” I answer without answering, then spin on my heels and head back to the living room, ignoring his laughter that follows me. As I step around Winter, her head lifts, and her gaze meets mine.

“Do you want a drink or something to eat?” I ask, picking up a stack of papers I placed on the couch earlier.

“No, I’m okay right now.” She drops her eyes back to the picture she’s coloring, but not before I catch the smile she tries to hide.

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