Page 57 of Moonlight & Matrimony
“Sorry, man. Give me a second to get my girl inside and I’ll come back for this knucklehead.”
He nods, giving me the ok to take care of my girl first.
“I can walk.”
Ignoring her protests, I take her hand and help her up the porch steps, guiding her into the living room on wobbly legs. As I carefully lay her head on the pillow, I’m unable to resist the urge to gently kiss her forehead. It’s almost instinctual now.
“Stay here. Please.” Her eyes are already heavily lidded, so I don’t think I have to worry about her running off and hurting herself, but I intend to make quick work of getting Miles inside just in case. When I step back outside, Miles is already standing on the sidewalk. He doesn’t appear to be drunk, and I’m grateful I won't have to carry him.
“You good?” I ask.
Miles seats himself at the top of the stairs, running his hands through his blonde hair. “Yeah. Just fucking exhausted. You didn’t have to bring me here. I could’ve gone home.”
I shrug. “Saved us an Uber, and it seemed like you could use a friend to talk to.”
“I don’t know, man.” He shakes his head, staring out at the skyline.
Hoping to reassure him, I add, “If it helps, I’m a vault. Whatever you say stays between us.”
“Yeah. Ok.”
“Beer?”
“Don’t you have to take care of your wife?” There’s a familiar glint of mischief on his face and it's good to see not all is lost.
“I’ll check on her while I grab our beers, but she was half asleep on the couch already.”
“Alright, sounds good.”
I walk back into the living room, checking on my girl, who is, as I suspected, passed out with her mouth hanging open. She’s so beautiful, even like this. Her braid has come undone, several pieces falling over her forehead; I can’t help but reach out and tuck them behind her ear. After what was an exhausting day, I’m certain she’ll sleep soundly tonight.
“Goodnight,” I whisper, placing another soft kiss to her temple before I drag her favorite throw blanket over her delectable body, remembering every fucking time she touched me tonight, wishing I could wake her with my head between her thighs and watch her come undone. The memory of her pulling away from me after the last time I had my mouth on her resurfaces, and it’s like a bucket of ice water, chilling me to my bones.
It’s best if I focus on something else. Besides, my friend seems to be in crisis and at least that’s something I might be able to help him with. I snag a couple of beers from the fridge, then head back out to the porch. Taking a seat on the opposite side of the railing. Mirroring Miles, I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
“Ok. So what’s got the great Miles Barlow all twisted up?”
“There’s a girl…”
“Yeah, that tracks.”
“Fuck off. Do you want me to tell you or not?”
“Sorry.” I pick at the soggy label on my beer, listening intently as he tells me about this woman he’s been pining over.
“She’s fucking amazing, man. Gorgeous, smart, feisty as fuck.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“There’s a laundry list of them, starting with the fact that she can’t stand me.”
That’s when it clicks. He’s talking about Maggie. The plot thickens. Instead of calling him out on his obvious skirting of the truth, I gesture for him to continue.
“It’s so fucking complicated. Like, epic levels of fucked up. I haven’t been with anyone in months because I’m not interested in anyone else, andthat’sthe fucking problem.”
I let the silence stretch for a moment, considering what to say next, deciding to go with the simplest option. “Have you told her how you feel?”
“Have you told Ivy howyoufeel?” His deflection is expected, but it still catches me somewhat off guard.
