Page 31 of One Touch

I stumbled to a stop at the sight of Miller waiting by the door. He was dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt. His ankles crossed as he leaned back against the door, looking the epitome of relaxed. I scowled deeper.

“Move, the car is waiting.”

“Not until we talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You wanted to go. I’m going. End of discussion.”

He assessed me, his critical eyes observing more than I wanted. To my surprise, he moved away from the door to let me pass. He was quiet as we made our way to the front of the building. Typically, I’d prefer the silence to his incessant questions, but today, it irked me.

He smiled and greeted the doorman and James. My brows deepened at the gesture. So he could talk to everyone else, just not me?

We rode in silence for ten minutes before I broke.

“Why aren’t you talking?” I barked. He merely shrugged and kept his gaze out the window. “Bambi, I swear to God, if you don’t start talking, you’ll regret it.”

“First, you told me to stop talking, and now you’re telling me to talk. Color me confused, Silver Spoon.”

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t get angry. I didn’t let emotion rule me. I wasn’t my father. The mere thought of him had my blood cooling. Outside of bringing my stepbrother, Landon, into my life, he’d been nothing but a disappointment. Emotional and physical abuse were all he knew. I still didn’t understand how he’d convinced the great Evangeline Silver or Ava Sharpe to marry him. One could be considered a fluke, but two great women falling for the likes of him was unheard of.

They’d both wised up eventually, but not before the damage had already been done. I’d felt relieved when hockey had taken me away from him, making it so I only had to do visitation with him on the weekends. He’d lessened the torture, and I’d dumbly believed it was because he was happy with his new wife. Learning he’d only switched from bullying me to Landon was a gut punch. I was still angry with Landon for keeping it to himself for so long, but I understood.

My father had a way of making you feel two feet tall and that you deserved the hatred he poured on you.

Thankfully, he was no longer in either Landon’s or my life. I’d cut him out the second I came home winter break and found him punching my brother.

So, no. I didn’t get angry. I wasn’t my father.

Releasing my fist, I spread my fingers out on my thigh and took a few minutes to count my breaths. I’d been skipping out on my meditation, and it showed.

“I’m sorry for throwing your phone. That was uncalled for. I’ll have it replaced,” I said in a smooth and calm voice.

Miller snorted, and some of my calm facade receded. “Ah, so we’re back to robot Lathan. And here I thought I was finally getting to see the real you.”

“Violence is never the answer,” I barked.

“Not disagreeing. What you did was uncalled for.”

I spun toward him. “Then why won’t you accept my apology?” I seethed.

Miller gripped my jaw in one hand and placed the other on my thigh. Both hands bit into me. Hard.

“I accept your apology, Silver. What I don’t accept is you hiding yourself. Tell me why you threw my phone.”

“It was nothing.”

“Baloney.”

Why did I like it so much that even when he was mad, he didn’t cuss? It was… dare I say… cute?

His eyes flashed, and his hand slipped further up my thigh. The longer he held the pressure, the more my body relaxed into his touch. I didn’t want to think too much about why his touch soothed me when everyone else stressed me out.

“Give me an honest answer, Silver,” he whispered. His breath ghosted across my lips, and I settled even more. All the tension I’d been carrying was gone, and I was two seconds away from melting into the seat.

I licked my lips and didn’t miss how Miller’s body trembled when my tongue grazed his fingers. “I don’t know,” I answered before I could stop myself.

Miller smirked and leaned closer. “I think you do; you’re just too scared to admit it. That’s okay, Lath. I’m patient, remember?”

I shivered at the use of my shortened name. God, I loved it when he said it all breathlessly. The car rolled to a stop, and Miller let go of me in the next second. He was out of the car before I could protest. I joined him a minute later and hated how far away he was as we walked through the Farmer’s Market. He was talking and laughing like nothing had happened, but I couldn’t forget the feel of his touch or the way his words burrowed their way into my skull.

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