Page 33 of Catching Feelings

“Oh, fuck.” Kendall tips her head back and belts out a laugh so loud it can be heard over the music.

She grabs my hand and we move our hips and feet while laughing hysterically at the guys.

“Do Rowan,” Riley says.

The song ends and “Nasty” by Janet Jackson comes on. Miles’s eyes lock on mine and he gives me the most devilish grin I’ve ever seen on him.

He glides his hands up and down his torso, then dramatically jumps so his back is to us and flicks his head and looks over his shoulder. He shakes his ass and I can’t help but lock my eyes on those two solid, perfect globes.

With one hand on his thigh, he slaps his ass cheek with the other, then spins and shimmies his way over to me, shaking his torso in front of me.

“What the heck is that?” I laugh, shoving at his chest.

“Your dance move, Doc.”

“I don’t shake my ass like that on the dance floor.”

“No, but you should.” He grips my hips and I have no choice but to follow his moves.

“Are you saying you don’t like how I dance?” I tease.

“I’m saying you’ve got the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen, and it was meant to...” The corner of his mouth lifts and he shrugs his shoulders.

Is he...is Miles flirting with me? That’s a first. Kendall is usually the one he tosses the sexual innuendos to. Not that I mind. I’m just not used to it.

I mean, he flirted a little a few months ago at the spring fling fundraiser when I patched him up, but that was more G-rated.

He’s never said anything about my body before. I’ve always been self-conscious of my curves. The seams of my scrubs sometimes pull around my hips and thighs, while I have to cinch the unflattering waistband that’s often loose around my middle.

“You do have a great ass.” Kendall slaps my cheek and I jump, bumping into Miles’s hard body.

“No complaints here.” He keeps his hands on my hips, but the mischievous grin tells me he’s tempted to slide his hands back and grab my ass too.

My neck heats with desire and I laugh as I step out of his reach. This is Miles. Miles Buckingham. Consummate flirt. Man slut, if I believe the rumors, even though I haven’t seen him slut himself lately. But who knows what he does when he’s not hanging out with his teammates.

It’s fine for me to drool over him and the other guys, but it’s not okay for me to do anything about it. Not that I would. Not that he would.

I’m not his type and he’s not mine.

Even if he was the relationship type, I imagine Miles is hilarious in the bedroom. I’m sure he knows his way around a woman’s body, but I can’t imagine him doing some of the kinky stuff I want to try.

Granted, compared to some of the books I read, my sexual desires are closer to vanilla. Or maybe a mocha. Possibly a peanut butter swirl.

I imagine Miles liking strawberry or mint chocolate chip. Fun and refreshing.

My experiences have all been vanilla. Not even with sprinkles. The few guys I’ve slept with have been pleasurable experiences, but nothing to leave me pining after them or walking funny the next day.

Three women who have been dancing with Brock and Trenton drag Miles into their circle. Part of me is thankful for the reprieve, but there’s a slight tug in my belly that almost feels like jealousy.

Which is ridiculous since Miles isn’t mine and I’ve never once thought of him as being anything more than a friend.

“I hate to bail so soon...” Riley holds her arm across her chest. “But these puppies are starting to cry for their owner.”

“I’m so glad you came out.” I walk Riley back to the table where Walker stands holding her purse.

“Want us to give you a lift home?” he asks.

“I can bring her,” Miles says from behind me.

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