Page 19 of One Billion Reasons

I stick my tongue out at his retreating back, but I’m still a little thrilled at the excess. Miles has always been like this. He’s always loved spending money, but not in a douchey way. He loves to share the joy of being able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. And I used to love those little pieces of joy, of luxury. Until I realized what doing whatever Miles wants means for others. The thought is sobering, and a little pit of discomfort yawns in my stomach.

That discomfort turns to irritation when I see how hot the flight attendant is. She’s fussing over Miles, and he’s flashing that smile at her, the one I never get. And I remember another thing I dislike about him. He loves women. And boy, do they love him. He was known as a guy who got around in college, each woman he slept with hotter than the last. He forced Liam and I to live with him starting sophomore year, and it was glorious. Except for the mornings I saw him stumble in, hair deliciously mussed, shirt rumpled. And every summer Sunday at the Montauk house, when I was treated to the sight of Miles Becker in his boxers, kissing a new woman goodbye. They never looked mad about being kicked out, either. No, those women left with dreamy smiles and hair that looked like birds had nested in it. My jaw clenches at the memory, and I look out the tiny window next to my seat. Once, after a few glasses of wine, I got the courage to ask Miles about his sex life.

Why do you want to know? he’d mocked. Something lacking, Lane?

My face had flamed. Miles was all too aware that I didn’t have the most exciting social life. But after a few drinks and years of curiosity, I pushed forward.

No, I want to know why you’re so obsessed with sex.

He’d leaned forward until I could smell clean male skin and laundry soap. I love women, he’d explained. And my talents should be shared. A cocky grin, and my face had reddened even further.

Tell me. I wanted to know what I was missing. Because sure, I liked sex, but I’d never looked like that after. Tell me what it’s like. Please, Miles.

Tell you? He’d sounded incredulous, placing embarrassing emphasis on the word ‘you.’ No way. He’d shoved out of his chair. Stop asking, Lane. I’m not talking to you about it.

That embarrassing memory had played on a loop every time I saw him with a woman after that. I shut my eyes, willing it away.

“What’s wrong?” My eyes fly open, and the attendant is still fussing over him, placing a napkin in his lap, her manicured fingers lingering. My face must betray my annoyance because he raises a brow. She finally walks to the back of the plane.

“Do you need some private time with the attendant?” I hiss. Why am I letting this get to me?

“Would it bother you if I did?” His expression is hard to read.

“No. Why?” Yes, it would. It always has, and it still will.

His expression shutters, and he looks out the window. His jaw works as he settles deeper into the cream leather seat. Our legs are way too close. Why did I sit across from him?

“I would never do that.” He sounds angry. “I would never sleep with an employee. You know that.” He turns to look at me, and I want to look away from those burning grey eyes.

“I know.” For all his faults, Miles has a moral code. It’s why I agreed to be his date. He’ll never try anything with me. He might push me, needle me, but he’ll do the right thing. He’s a stand-up guy in his own way.

“I’m sorry.” I pause. Here goes. “Should we talk about the wedding? Is it going to be weird when you see Amanda and she sees us together?” Are you still in love with her? Which one of you ended things?

He looks a little pained, and my insides pinch. It feels a lot like jealousy, and I hate it.

“It won’t be weird because Amanda and I were never in love.”

“Excuse me?” I can barely hear my own words over the rush of blood in my ears.

“It was a business deal. Nothing more. Amanda needed a husband to run her family business, but she broke things off when she realized what being married to me entailed. And she fell in love with someone.” He taps a finger on the polished wood of the little table connected to his seat. “I don’t blame her for it.” His voice is cool, and I can’t tell how he feels about the whole situation.

“What do you mean you don’t blame her?”

He gives a short, unhappy laugh. “I know you said you’ve never googled me, but I don’t have the best reputation.”

“Why?” I frown. “I mean, I know business is cutthroat, but you have a moral code. I’ve seen it in action.”

“Only you think that, Lane. To everyone else, I’m a ruthless asshole.”

“Well, that I won’t disagree with.” You weren’t always, though. What happened? I want to shake him. The Miles I knew in college was fun. Wild, but fun.

He smiles, but the smile is tinged with sadness.

“Are you sad about Amanda breaking things off?”

“Sad? No. Annoyed? Yes. Amanda has created a mess of epic proportions for my business. Including turning her asshole of a father against us. If he comes near us, let me do the talking.”

“Okay. Do we need a story then?”

---