Page 75 of Deceit
“It’s not mine. I don’t have the slightest idea how to play it.”
Warmth flooded my body, and I tried to tamper down my buildingexcitement.“Thenwhy-”
“I bought it for you, Jailbait. I wanted you to have something to keep youoccupied at home, and I know you enjoy playing the piano,”he said casually, as if he hadn’t knocked the wind from my sails.
“How did you know?”
I racked my brains, trying to remember if I’d played the keyboard atBar Forty-Four in the last few months, certainthatwas the only place he would have knownthatI could play.
“You know, for someone who set the rules, you’re notverygood at stickingto them,”Miles joked.“You’re only allowed to ask questions when you claim a piece, remember?”
“Add another free one to your reserve. How did you know?”
He rolled his eyes.“I blackmailed Gus. Told him I’d tell his wife about hisaffair unless he told me what hobbies you had.”
“Gus was having an affair!”I exclaimed. My mind was beginning to meltwith all the new information being thrown my way. Not to mention the way my heart was soaring at learning the length Miles had gone to to learn something about me.
Miles chuckled.“That’s all you’re getting until you win another piece.”
Frustration crawled through me. Why the hell did I think this was a goodidea? I had more questions than ever.
I moved another pawn, Miles following suit. With anticipation thrumming inmy veins, it became harder to plan ahead, and when I moved my knight to claim one of his pawns, I cursed myself when I realized I’d left my rook open to be claimed by his bishop.
Still, I won another question.“How did you know I haven’t played the pianoat home?”
As predicted, he moved his bishop and took out my rook.“Because I havecameras installed around the house. Why does your dad not let you sing or play music at his house?”
I narrowed my gaze at him, not mad at learning about the cameras, I wasused tothatlevel of security around the house, but at him jumping straight into his question.“It reminded Papa of Mama. She taught both Rafe and me to play, and taught me how to sing. After she died, Papa said he didn’t want the memory of her to haunt him when he walked the hallways of his house.”
“So he silenced you,”Miles stated matter-of-factly.
I nodded my head as a sharp pain stabbed me in my chest. I missed mymama more than anything, but the ache intensified after Papa refused to let us keep her memory alive.
“But he kept your grounds in pristine condition in memory of her?”
Despite the solemn atmosphere, I grinned.“Thatwas one of your freequestions. Yes, he spent most of his time locked away in his office,which was at the front of the house, so he didn’t have to look out into the gardens at the back. If I’m honest, I always thought he claimed to keep the gardens maintained in her memory for show. But I didn’t care if it meant keeping something of my mama alive.”
He gave me a sad smile but didn’t say anything, and I found comfort in hissilence. There was nothing he could saythatwould make Mama’s absence in my life any easier,justlike there was nothing I could saythatwould make his shitty childhood any better. We both understoodthatsometimes, people were born into the wrong families.
We moved a few more pieces around the board before I claimed another oneof his pawns. Mentally sifting through the list of questions I had, I opted to change the topic.“Do youreallyhate me calling you Milo?”
He inhaled a shaky breath.“Yeah.”
“Why?”I asked softly, knowing I was pushing my luck.
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and I suddenly regretted asking the question,but he surprised me once again when he answered.“Theo was the only person to call methat. In fact, other than him, no one else knewthatwe had nicknamed each other Ted and Milo.”
“And every time I called you Milo, it reminded you of Theo?”I said whenhe paused. He nodded his head once, and guilt slammed into my chest. All the time I was calling himthatto annoy him, I was only adding to his pain.“I won’t…I won’t call youthatanymore, Miles.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and for a second, a thick tensiongrew between us. Until a mischievous grin pulled on his lips and he broke the silence.“Yeah, well, don’t think I’m gonna stop calling you Jailbait.”
I couldn’t stop a giggle from slipping out.“I don’t mind so much.”
And I didn’t. I wasn’t sure when I’d grown used to it, but I’d gone fromhating it to secretly likingthathe called methat. It was like it was somethingjustfor us.
For the next half hour, the game progressed with the two of us equallymatched. With every piece removed from the board, we fired questions at each other.
I learned the extent of the bullying he suffered at the hands of his father, andwith each story he recalled, my heart broke a little more for him. He learned how much I hated being shipped away to school in Italy and how lonely I was.
