Page 149 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“That’s your own fault.” He trails a finger through the white mess on my chest. I catch his hand and bring his fingertips to my lips. “Jesus, seriously, when did things change?”

He moans when I pull his finger into my mouth. It won’t be the last time I taste him, that much I know. I drop his hand and meet his gaze.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe it was a few weeks ago with Sophie, maybe it was a long time ago and I just didn’t realize.”

“I guess I really shouldn’t carewhen,” Miles sighs, leaning forward to kiss my shoulder. The gesture is sweet and intimate in a way unlike anything we just did. “I’m just glad you saw the light.”

Miles squeezes my shoulder as he rounds the kitchen island on Saturday morning. My oatmeal lies forgotten in front of me, having gone cold while I scroll my phone.

“Whatcha doin'?”

“I’m, er, looking at something.” I haven’t broached the subject with him yet because I don’t even know if finding a house the right size is possible.

“Got that,” he snorts, turning on the coffee maker. “Is it secret spy stuff?”

“I’m not a spy.” I don’t have the energy to roll my eyes. I’m still not sure how I made it to the shower last night without my legs giving out.

“Is it secret, black market stuff?”

I’m looking at houses,” I mumble.

“Come again?” He spins.

“Don’t have the time for that,” I reply with a smirk. “I’m looking for a house.”

“One hot love-making session and you’re leaving me?” The false hurt in his voice forces my smile to spread.

“I’m just looking. Don’t you want more space?”

Miles takes a moment to look down his hallway, then down mine. His eyes roam the living room behind me and then he makes a show of inspecting the kitchen.

“More space?” he repeats with raised eyebrows.

“I just meant it might be nice for Sophie to-”

“You think she’d leave her comfy little townhouse for us?” He shakes his head. “Not likely.”

“Like I said, I’m just looking.”

“Never let anyone say you’re not prepared for every eventuality.”

37

Miles

Moira’s reminder about Sunday brunch goes unanswered for the umpteenth weekend. I haven’t been since before Brody’s appointment with her. Sophie has taken up every extra thought I have, but I’m going to have to bite the bullet soon. It’s not that I don’t miss it, but I know I’m gonna catch shit for my absences.

It’s been a week since I’ve physically seen Sophie. Not a day goes by when we don’t exchange texts and voice memos, but I haven’t held her in my arms in a week. By Sunday, I’m chomping at the bit just to feel her skin on mine.

She suggests doing a live session together.

“This’ll be a change.”

Sophie steps through the front door with a grin.

“Because we haven’t performed live together or because we haven’t filmed here?”

“Both.” She shrugs and allows me to lead the way. “Where’s Brody?”

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