Page 25 of Hard to Take

“Then we can go back to yours.”

I chew my lip. “He doesn’t love strangers.”

Trev turns to face me. “You don’t want to go home with me. It’s cool.”

I press my hands to my eyes. I’m not apologizing, because it’s messed up for a woman to apologize to a guy for not fucking him, but this still feels awkward.

“I get that it was kind of our thing. And to be honest, I was thinking about it when you asked me out.”

He cocks his head, looking genuinely curious. “So what changed?”

“Nothing you did. My mind is somewhere else. But I did have a good time.”

Trev leans back and nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

We leave the restaurant and take his car back to my place.

He drops me off, leaning in to kiss me.

I let him do it. A test to see if the connection can help.

“You won’t be thinking of him.” Miles’s words come back.

Damn if he isn’t right.

On the way home, I stop at a café for an almond milk latte to go.

A few weeks ago, I was living in my apartment, zero cares in the world. Now, I’m a lot more aware of things.

How much my life cost.

How much I focused on keeping up appearances.

How much I want my brother’s teammate, even when I don’t want to.

It’s impossible to forget how sleeping with him felt. More than that, his kindness in looking out for me—without any real return—affects me.

With my mom, there was a specific payback: her career and her image.

With Miles, I get that he’s helping Jay. But while maybe he was helping out his friend’s little sister with Kevin years ago, or in Vail… Miles didn’t need to move me in with him. He made his life harder by doing it.

I head upstairs to the condo, sipping the latte and grimacing. Definitely not elite.

“Miles?” I call tentatively when I step inside.

There’s no answer. He already left.

The anticipation in my stomach evaporates along with the nerves.

I step out of my shoes and trudge across the living room. The soft wool of the carpet makes me curl my toes.

I set the latte on the coffee table and drop onto the couch, kicking my feet up on the end. There’s plenty of reality TV to watch. I could call Nova or Ruby, or swing by the bar to see Sierra.

“It’s you and me, buddy,” I say to Waffles.

He snorts his agreement.

I should be overjoyed about having the place to myself.

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