Page 92 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

“Not…that drawer.” He stands and moves nearer but doesn’t quite close the distance.

“What are these?” I haven’t touched the letters again. I’m just standing here with a handful of pencils, staring at them.

“They’re, um…” He exhales, and I meet his gaze.

He looks…sad? Unsure? Why can’t I read him right now? My heart squeezes.

“Is it something bad?” I don’t even know what the “bad” could be. I just know I don’t often see Miles like this. He’s had so many little secrets lately. What else could he be keeping from me?

“Georgia, no. They’re letters I’ve been writing to you. When my feelings overwhelm me, I sit down and write them out.”

“Your feelings?” Why am I so lost right now? I hate this confusion clouding my thoughts.

He inhales long and deep. “I love you.”

“I—” I almost give in to the urge to tell him I love him, too. It’s an automatic reflex, like someone tapped my heart with a tiny mallet and the words sprang right to my tongue. I can’t say them, though. It’s too much, too soon. Isn’t it? “You mean…”

I let that prompt hang between us. Because maybe he means it in a friendly way?

“I mean I am in love with you. Hopelessly.”

My heart races so hard it hurts. “But we just started seeing each other differently a few weeks ago.”

Miles shakes his head slowly. “I’ve seen you that way for a long time.”

The squeezing in my chest grows tighter. My heart is a pencil in a merciless grip, and it’s about to snap in two under the pressure. “How long?”

“Two years.” He says it almost in apology. Is he sorry it’s such a huge amount of time? For not telling me sooner? Or is he sorry that he finally has?

“Years.” I barely breathe the word. I can’t fathom it.

“I never meant to deceive you, Georgia. But I couldn’t tellyou how I felt when you didn’t give any indication you felt the same way.”

I stare at the letters. I don’t try to read the top one, but the wordlovejumps out at me anyway. There are so many pages in that drawer, the letters practically spill out of it. I can’t imagine him writing these, pouring out his heart…to me? He’s got that kind of love and affection for me?

“I thought we were just having fun.” Even as I say it, I know it’s wrong. Miles would never have that kind of fun. He’d never play with someone’s emotions. This was never just about flirting or kissing…but I don’t know if I’m ready for more. I’ve been so careful to avoid even the most superficial dating relationship for ages now, I can’t just dive intolove.

“It’s not just fun for me.”

His soft voice burrows into my heart. I want to turn around and comfort him, but I don’t know what to say. I can’t comfort myself right now. How could I comfort him? I’m not even sure what I’d be comforting either of usfrom,let alone the right way to ease it.

“I want something real and lasting with you, Georgia. If you don’t want that, I won’t bring this up again.”

That’s good. A very Darcy move. But it’s also bad. Could he just…never mention his feelings for me again? Maybe he could—if he’s gone this long hiding them, he could probably box them up again if I asked. The question is, do I want him to?

“I…I don’t…” I can’t think straight. My heart is a mess. It was wild enough realizing Miles and I could be kissing friends a couple of weeks ago—I can’t sort out emotions this big on the spot.

“It’s okay.” He moves closer to pull the stack of letters from the drawer. “You can take them. Read them or don’t, whatever you’re comfortable with. Just come find me when you’ve had achance to think about it.”

“Miles.” I don’t even know what I’m asking of him, I just know I need clarity.

He gently takes my shoulders and gazes down at me. Then he presses an achingly soft kiss to my forehead. “Whatever you want, I’ll understand.”

I don’t deserve him. Maybe I never have.

Letter

Two years ago

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