Page 24 of Miles Apart
“Left?” Miles takes in my frustration. He rubs his index and pointer fingers over his bitable lip. “Is that how you have it?”
“It’s what I know.”
“Which is shit.”
“Excuse me?” I fold my arms over my dress. Diners pass our silent showdown. I should leave, but part of me wants to hear his explanation. The other part wishes I didn’t care. No emotions is safe. It’s what I know, what I’m good at.
Miles’s voice is soft with a tenderness I’m not used to from him. “I was working in the other room, Em. I sleep alone and didn’t want to disturb you. When I woke up,youwere gone.” He gauges my reaction, which is stuck somewhere in denial. What is happening?
“Come back to my room.” The request surprises us both, but Miles holds steady. “We’re not done.”
“No.” My tone is firm, the final nail in a coffin I refuse to exhume. No penis will leave me this rattled again. Distance worked for us before and will have to now.
“Here you go, treating me like a stranger,” he says with a playful chuckle and the smile he wields to sear the panties off of women who fall under the spell of his charm and big dick energy.
I’m not wearing panties tonight, but I still clench my thighs.
“What are you afraid of, kitten?”
Everything.
I can compartmentalize the act of sex from any attachments that come with it. That was true until Miles, and I won’t risk getting caught up more than I already am.
“What happened was a mistake, one we won’t make again.” It’s a lie, and a shitty one at that.
“A mistake.” Miles tilts his head and weighs the word. “Bullshit, Emma. You can’t hide from me, kitten.”
My eyes threaten to roll into the back of my head at his smirk. Under normal circumstances, I’d stop our flirting before things got out of hand. Distance and willpower made me immune to Miles’s wiles, but I’m damn near feral. A lack of action will have you doing wild things. Like entertaining whatever is about to come out of his mouth.
The word “risk” waves in front of my face, daring me to be stupid. The problem is, I’m curious if his stamina matches the precision of his fingers.
“How does this play out for you?”
Miles flashes a grin. “Simple. We fuck until it’s time to leave. There are only a few more days left, and last I checked, our best friends are too busy getting busy to care. Once Monday hits, we go back to not speaking to each other.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Using a man to tide me over on vacation is nothing new. I love sex and consider it weekly cardio. I never miss a partner once it’s time to pack up and go our separate ways.
But this is different—itfeelsdifferent. There’s an energy between me and Miles calling us together, and that alone makes this proposal a problem.
“We don’t have to tell them,” he says about Justice and Terrence, reading my mind. “I guarantee they’re still in yoursuite and will be for the rest of the night—if not the weekend. Come with me to mine.”
The fact that I haven’t told Miles to find another woman to keep the sheets I slept on warm is another warning that the wall I erected between us is on the brink of collapse. I’m ready to list all the reasons we need to find other partners, but I stall. Behind the desire swirling in his eyes are embers of hope. His entire demeanor shifted, and he’s ready to cling to every word I’ve yet to utter—not because I don’t want to say the words, but because of the man making his way to our table.
One who shouldn’t be anywhere near this resort but threatened to come and get me if I didn’t get on a plane to see my father. The event is tomorrow, but Carter is here today.
His stride is a tailored trajectory of arrogance and disruption. I haven’t seen him since I visited my parents for Thanksgiving, which turned out to be a catered interrogation about my career and lack of promising suitors. There’s no reason for Carter to be here, but his wide grin and calculated eyes tell me he didn’t fly in to hit the slopes.
He stops inches from my side of the booth and peers down at me. “There you are.” With our height difference, I’m eye level with his tan designer belt—his crotch is in my face.Dick. “Aren’t you going to say hello”—he tosses a glance at Miles—“and introduce me to your friend?”
Said friend keeps his attention fixed on me, unwilling to entertain the man who’s demanding his. Laid-back and unserious is Miles’s default. His body language reflects it, with his outstretched legs under the small wooden table and the finger casually tracing lazy circles over his half-full glass. He’s unbothered on the outside, but the amusement faded from his gaze the minute Carter interrupted our date.
Date.
One thing at a time.
