Page 17 of Chasing Stars
“Do you want to wait here for it?” Miles asks.
I wave a hand. “No, no way. You have to get to work. Just take me over to your place and we can get it after you’re done.” I have always found that life feels easier when I accommodate other people instead of asking them to accommodate me. My mom used to tell me that it was making myself small when I should be the same size as everyone else. Even on her deathbed, she told me my feelings, my hopes, my fears, they all matter. Idon’t always believe that, and that’s why it’s a struggle for me to inconvenience Miles.
“I took the rest of the day off.” Miles grins, like he’s proud that he kept a big secret for an entire hour.
“You did?” I ask, not even trying to hide my shock. There’s a part of me that hopes he took the day off to hang out with me. I swallow that hope and say, “I guess you can do whatever you want when you own the place.” I nudge him with my elbow, fighting the urge to lean my body into his.
“Well, no. But I’ve worked a ton lately, and I haven’t really had any downtime.” He scratches the stubble on his chin and flicks his gaze to mine. “So, tell me what you want to do. Cape May is your oyster.” His smile is infectious.
I giggle and it sounds foreign to me. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been even remotely interested in a guy. My friends got married and have their own lives. I’m happy for them for sure, but after I’d gone to multiple weddings on my own, I started to wonder if it’d ever happen for me. That’s the headspace I was in when my mom got sick, and then everything kind of halted. I couldn’t possibly go on a dating app and look for a boyfriend when I spent every waking moment with my mom, wondering if it might be our last chance.
I haven’t even been on a date in over a year. And as for sleeping with someone, it’s been way longer than I’d care to admit. I’ve never been quick to jump into bed with a new partner but Miles kind of makes me want to try again. The way he’s looking at me now makes my heart hammer in my chest—a stark reminder that I better pull it together.He is just a nice guy.That’s all.
“I don’t know.” I tilt my head thoughtfully. “Why don’t you start by introducing me to Pete.”
“Pete,” Miles repeats, a smirk playing on his lips. “The first thing you want to do is meet my dog?” He barks out a laugh andmy chest pulls tight at the sight of his dimple again. “I can live with that. Come on.”
Ten minutes later,we’re at Miles’s condo complex which overlooks the beach. He pulls his car into the lot and hops out, jogging around to my side to open my door. That’s when I feel it. Butterflies again. I couldn’t say the last time I felt them like this, but now they swarm my insides with every nice thing Miles does for me. I climb out of his front seat while he opens the back passenger door and grabs my bags. I try to take them, but he refuses. There they are again,flit flit.
“I’m on the second floor.” He gestures to the upstairs condo and grins. “Better views. Follow me.”
Miles leads me up two flights of stairs to a landing with a condo door on either side. He walks to the one on the right. The building is a cream-colored stucco and the doors are slate blue. There is nothing hanging on his front door, unlike the one across the landing, but there is a doormat that readsI like it dirty. Heat creeps up my neck when I read it and I smirk.
“You like that?” Miles winks, unlocking the door.
“I mean–” I stammer, searching for something to say that won’t further add to the blush I feel creeping all the way across my face
As soon as the door opens, a loud, joyful bark echoes through the foyer as the sweetest copper colored boxer barrels up to greet us. He has a white chest and black mask on his face making him look like a mischievous bandit. His wrinkled forehead furrows with curiosity as he sizes us up. His underbite tugs into a playful smile as he immediately bypasses Miles and launches himself at me, nearly knocking me over. I catch his white front paws, andhe stands on his hind legs, bending his head to eagerly lick my arm.
“Pete!” Miles snaps. “Get down.”
Pete obeys but then proceeds to walk around and sniff my rear. I giggle and shove him away. “Well, hello there, Pete! Nice to meet you too.” I skirt away from his wet nose and cover my butt.
“He doesn’t get out much.” Miles chuckles awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck. “He’s not so great with the ladies.”
“Well, you better teach him a thing or two then.” I tease, following Miles past the entryway.
“I’m trying.” Miles rolls his eyes. Then shooting Pete an exaggerated scowl. “Come on, man. You’re making me look bad.”
I laugh heartily and ruffle Pete’s ear. “He’s fine.” I give Miles a reassuring pat on his bicep.
Miles turns back to me, his expression unreadable. He almost looks nervous as he clears his throat. “Come on, let me show you the space.”
Miles leads me down the small hallway to his open kitchen. “This is it,” he says, holding out his hands. I walk around, admiring the modern finishes. The cabinets are white on top and navy blue on the bottom with shiny quartz countertops. The walls are pale gray throughout. There is a round table with four chairs in a breakfast nook off the kitchen. In the living room, a gray sofa sits in the center between two white end tables, facing a large TV mounted above a gas fireplace. But the real showstopper is the double sliding doors leading to a balcony overlooking the ocean. I gasp when I see it.
“Nice, huh?” he asks with a grin.
“It’s amazing.” I walk to the sliding doors and my eyes drift across the gentle rise and fall of the tide. “I would sit out here every day.”
“Open the door,” Miles urges, so I do.
I step onto the balcony and inhale the smell of the ocean. It’s the first time I’ve laid eyes on it since I’ve come back to town. To my right, four surfboards lean against the side of the condo. There are two Adirondack chairs with a small table in the middle. To my left, a huge and inviting woven hammock. I walk over to it and finger the material—until I catch Miles watching me.
“You can lie in it,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.
I try to laugh it off, but I’m caught—I’m completely starstruck by this condo and he knows it. I shake my head quickly, warmth creeping into my cheeks.
Miles cocks his head toward the door. “Come on, you can have my room.” He slides open the door and I sheepishly follow him back inside and down the hall. “This is the only bathroom.” He gestures into a small bathroom with a tub-shower and small vanity. Not five feet from it is a door he pushes open. His room.
