Page 19 of Loving You

“He doesn’t like people walking into his shop if he doesn’t know they are here.” Cherry jumps in front of me. “And I was here first.”

I give her my best smile and shake my head. “That is so Miles. I don’t think he’ll be upset if it’s me, though. It would be silly for him to be upset with his girlfriend for showing up to see him.”

I try to move past her, but she stops me again.

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.” I offer her my hand. “Hi, I’m Quinn Banks.”

Her eyes widen, and then she stumbles back like I hit her.

“I didn’t know he was seeing someone. Weirdly, he never mentioned it, but Ihaveheard your name before.”

“Oh, well, he’s pretty private,” I say, ignoring how she might know me. “Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?”

“Um, no. That’s okay.”

Yet she doesn’t leave. I fight the urge to look at my phone. Not that I’ll know if it's been five minutes or not. I didn’t look when I left the office.

I open my mouth to ask her if she’s all right because, honestly, I can see by the way her shoulders drop that this is not what she wants to hear, but she finally storms away from the shop.

A part of me feels a little bad, but a bigger part of me is relieved as I return to find Miles.

“She’s gone.”

Miles stands slowly.

He lets out a deep breath.

“That took six minutes.”

“Oh my god, are you being serious? I saved your butt just now. She would have stayed all night.”

“I know.” He shrugs off his plaid jacket, leaving himself in just a white T-shirt that reveals his thick and sculpted arms. He runs a hand through his thick brown hair and sighs. Then he grabs a rag from the toolbox in the corner, folds it, and tucks it into the back pocket of his blue jeans before leaning into the hood of a vehicle.

He’s not going to give me the apartment or fake date me. I’m going to look like a fool. Which serves me right, but a little compassion right now would be nice.

I could argue or stomp my foot like a child, but it's clear that nothing will work.

I turn just as he says. “How do we convince the rest of the town?”

“What?”

He stands taller and crosses his arms. “People are aware of the way you and I normally interact. They won't buy it if we start showing up all touchy and shit.”

He’s right.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” I admit.

“We’ve never gotten along,” he says as a fact.

“I know.”

“But then I let you rent the apartment behind my shop.”

My face lights up.

“And the more times we saw each other—” he says.

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