Page 87 of When the Fake Snow Falls

Miles lets out a scoff. “What are we, twelve?”

“Apparently. She threatened to take away all the friends she referred as clients.”

This makes him lift his head from the tomato he’s dicing. “Fucking bitch.”

“Yeah.”

He goes back to cutting. “Is he worth it?”

I don’t answer right away. Could I sacrifice that many clients if it meant I could be with Chase? Maybe, but not if we were just casually sleeping together. I’d need more, and he didn’t offer it. “He would be if this were real.”

He lifts a skeptical brow. “I’ve seen you two together. It looked pretty real to me.”

“Real chemistry and attraction maybe, but if he doesn’t want to give this a real shot, none of it matters.”

Miles sets a plate of bright green avocado toast in front of me, and I thank him.

“Did you ask him?”

Taking a bite, I shake my head and try to stop thinking about the other toast I was being hand-fed earlier. “No, but that man is not shy. If he wanted something more, I’d know.”

Miles eats his toast, deep in thought. Eventually, he just shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

His acceptance of the situation somehow makes me feelbetter. I’ll get over this. It might suck for a while, but as long as Chase is out of sight, he’ll eventually be out of mind. And that will happen a lot faster if Miles accepts this and doesn’t bring him up.

“Nicolette sucks for using her power over us in all this, but it’s probably for the best. You know?”

“Why? Because you’d keep sleeping with him if that wasn’t the case?”

My shoulders drop in resignation. “Yup.”

His lips press together, and his eyes narrow. “What about all that talk of not wanting to get in too deep?”

I take my last bite of toast before answering. “I don’t know what it is about him, but if he showed interest, I probably would have done whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted.”

Miles gives me a pointed stare. “No, you wouldn’t have. You’ve never taken any guy’s bullshit after Greg. You would have eventually gotten sick of him fucking around.”

“But he has this way of making his fucking around seem like he’s not fucking around at all. There’s something about him that always comes across as genuine.” I groan and let my head fall into my hands. “I need a shower.”

Miles takes my plate and sets it in the sink. “Go shower. You’ll feel better.”

I rub my hands over my face and try to muster all my energy to take on the rest of the day. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for breakfast.”

He smiles a sad, tight-lipped smile, and I fight the urge to fall apart all over again as I get to my feet and head into my bathroom.

The only way to keep everything I’m feeling at bay is to keep myself busy. As soon as the bathroom door shuts, I don’t linger in front of the mirror. I rip Chase’s shirt and boxers off, so my body is completely bare and my own.

Stepping under the water, I turn my face up. Every time I close my eyes, another flicker of his hands and mouth comes into view. I shouldn’t let myself go there. Grabbing the soap, I scrub frantically. Each part of me lathered and washed is another part of last night erased.

forty-one

Havingto make up the time I take off is usually my least favorite thing about being my own boss. Sure, I have the freedom to make my schedule, but as great as it is to not schedule any clients on a certain day, it is equally terrible having to book myself solid on a day I usually have off to make up for it.

That’s the mindset I used to have, anyway.

In the days leading up to Christmas, I’m fully booked. Sunday ends up feeling more like a Saturday, and Monday is busier than my usual weekdays with everyone trying to get their hair done before Christmas Eve on Tuesday.

I’ve been so busy. I’ve hardly had time to think about the fact that there’s one person on my schedule I’m dreading more than usual. In fact, I don’t even realize the time until Amanda walks into my station while I’m cleaning my mixing bowl.

---