Page 13 of Catching Feelings

“The hell I won’t.” Miles pockets the key and stands, taking his sister in his arms and squeezing her in what I can assume is a breath-crushing hug. “Stay out of trouble and try to smile at least once a day.”

“You smile enough for the both of us.” She pushes him away, but I can see the tenderness in her eyes. “Don’t screw him over,” she warns me before leaving.

“Sorry about that.” Miles takes his seat again and picks up his sandwich. “It’s mostly an act. Jules has a tight circle and no one on the outside gets to see the real her.”

“I can understand that.”

“And by tight circle, I mean our aunt and me.”

“You must be happy to have her close by.”

“Yeah. We grew up in Florida. While getting drafted fresh out of college was a dream, it sucked being far from her and Lynn.”

“You’ve been in Boston since?”

He tilts his head and flashes his flirty caramel eyes at me. “Should I be offended you haven’t read my bio?”

“I haven’t read anyone’s. I’ve never been an athlete or into football. No offense,” I say when he lets out a dramatic gasp. “I go to games to support my friends and their husbands.”

Miles slaps his giant palm across his heart. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I suppose I can bump you up to friend status.”

“Be still my heart.” He winks at me before tearing into his sandwich. After he swallows and takes a sip of water, he asks, “So what was my status before?”

“Hm.” I tap my finger to my chin while I think about how I would classify Miles Buckingham. “A former patient?”

Miles narrows his eyes at me, but I don’t miss the quip of his lip. “Since you’re a pediatric nurse, that makes us sound a little kinky.”

Moisture pools between my legs at his words. I hide my blush behind my sandwich and pretend to be invested in the flavors. I mean, I am. I was. But now I’m trying my hardest not to imagine the chemistry between Miles and me.

Because there isn’t any.

“Do friendly acquaintances go shopping and to lunch together? Hell, we’ve even danced a time or two.”

“That’s true. I suppose you could be classified as a friend of a friend.”

“Ouch. My ego is taking a bruising.”

“As if.” I take a sip of water and slide the other half of my sandwich over to him. “I guess I can call you a friend.”

“I like that.” He picks up the sandwich and takes a healthy bite. When he’s done chewing, he adds, “Friends that—” He looks up to the ceiling and rubs his chin.

My cheeks burn and my panties aren’t getting any drier.

“Friends that shop together. How does that sound?”

“I’m not a huge shopper, but it’ll do.”

“I can’t have that then. Friends that eat together.”

Well, hell. Here I thought Miles was the notorious dirty talker and sexual innuendo dropper. Turns out, it’s me. Everything he says has me thinking about sex. It’s only natural since he exudes sexual confidence.

And it doesn’t help that the moisture in my panties is mingling with the cobwebs of my uncharted territory. At least, uncharted since I flipped the calendar over to this year. Sex had been the last thing on my mind while juggling my terrible hours in the Emergency Room and studying for my classes.

Since Riley and Kendall fell for football players, any free weekend I have in the fall and winter have been spent at Boston Revolutions football games or going out afterwards. Not that I’m complaining. I was desperate for a social life, but it did take a toll on my sleep and ability to focus.

Now that my two best friends are settled in marital bliss and I have more predictable hours, my sleep cycle has finally returned to normal. Which has also reminded my body that it’s not getting what it needs sexually either.

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