Page 75 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Then I’m providing the wine,” I say.

“I feelgood about that.”

The sound of rain muffles our laughter, and I’m suddenly keenly aware of the ease between us. It’s dangerous. Too tempting. As if we could fall onto my bed, like a couple, enraptured by laughter, then turn to each other and kiss like it’s all we’ve wanted to do all day. Will it always feel like this? With him both so safe and so dangerous at the same time?

I clench my fists once, twice, to try to ignore the desire swirling in me.

As we finish with the futon, Miles grabs his phone and asks me a few more pizza questions. When he finishes ordering the food, his attention seems to snag on something beneath the chair. He crosses the room, rummages around, and pulls it out, holding it up to the light.

Something long. Pink. Silicone.

I slap a hand to my face. “Oh no.”

He dangles the dildo between two fingers, looking amused. “Yours?”

“God, no,” I groan, grabbing an old T-shirt of mine to wrap it up. Marching to the living room, I interrupt Indigo mid-sentence as she says to Ezra, “Is it hard to listen to my feelings?”

Girl, it’s hard for me.“Here. This is either beard oil guy’s or…”

Indigo snatches it from me, her eyes flaring. Like she’s going to lash into Ezra. But then her expression softens.Instead, her gray eyes twinkle, and she whispers reverently, “This one is my favorite.”

“Mine too,” Ezra says.

“I thought it was missing,” she whispers.

“It’s a sign. It’s come home to us,” Ezra agrees.

“This whole night is a sign,” Indigo says, turning to me with an air of absolute sincerity. “You’re a good-luck charm.”

Then they run off to their room, leaving me stunned. I retreat back to mine, shutting the door with more force than necessary. Miles looks up from his phone, grinning. “Rain sounds louder?”

“Yes. Please.”

I pause, glancing at the gorgeous, thoughtful hockey player as the sound of rainfall fills the room. I definitely feel like I don’t want this night to end.

Fine,fine. There’s more to unpack than I’d thought. But Miles is helpful with my digital photo frame, my laptop and monitor, and the few books I have, though I’m more of an e-reader gal. As he plugs in the digital frame, he tips his head toward the bedroom door. “So, those two seem…reallyinto communication. But almost too much?”

I laugh while hanging up clothes. “Right? Sometimes I think they’re onto something, but most of the time they just remind me that relationships are really complicated.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, as he connects the frame to the router.

Well, I can’t resist that. I probably shouldn’t poke around in his relationship history, but I’m admittedly curious.He’s never shared much online and I maybe, possibly, checked out his socials. “Okay, tell me about it,” I say, nerves jumping through me. But I’m too curious. I want to know who captivated him at some point.

He stops his work on the frame, gives me a thoughtful look. “You want to know?”

“I do.”

He takes off his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose, then says, “I was involved with someone for a long time in Vancouver.”

My stomach dips unpleasantly, but I say nothing. I simply wait.

“We were pretty serious. Lived together and all. But after my ACL tear, I was in a bad place. I wasn’t able to focus on anything but myself. First, I kind of wallowed and that took up all my headspace, then I tried to heal. I wasn’t…nice to be around. And so…she left.”

I stop hanging, swallowing roughly. “Just left? It was too much for her?”

“Yeah,” he says, heavily. Then, he slides his glasses back on. “I guess I understand in retrospect. I was…deeply unhappy.”

My heart squeezes with pain for him. I step away from the closet and move to the edge of the bed, closer to him. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful all around.”

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