Page 67 of Wylder Ranch
MILES THE GREAT: Al?
MILES THE GREAT: Al?
MILES THE GREAT: Al?
ALEX: Miles, fucking stop it. What is the matter with you?
MILES THE GREAT: Ah. I win the bet. Hen owes me a grand.
ALEX: What bet?
MILES THE GREAT: That you’re sleeping alone?
ALEX: What?
MILES THE GREAT: If Haven was in bed with you, there’s no way you’d be replying. Still haven’t sealed the deal?
ALEX: What the fuck are you talking about?
MILES THE GREAT: The tension between you two last night could have been cut with a knife. Only a matter of time, buddy. . .
One of these days,I’m going to murder Miles in hisbed.
Or not his bed. Just straight-up murder him wherever he happens to be when he’s annoying me.
Like right now.
And 50 percent of my annoyance is because I thought I’d gotten away with my behavior toward Haven without anyone noticing. Which clearly didn’t happen, but the longer she was upstairs changing Everly’s nappy, the longer I had to stew on the kiss.
It didn’t come out of nowhere.
She’d had that kiss saved up and waiting for me, for who knows how long. Since she arrived? Since I left Aspen?
Whatever the timeframe it brought back the annoyance I’d almost let go of after she didn’t return my call, along with—if we’re being truthful—the hurt and dented pride.
MILES THE GREAT: Al?
Strike that. Annoyance is seventy thirty to Miles.
I start typing, then stop. Then start again, then stop.
I don’t know what to reply. Miles will have a comeback to whatever I say.
It would be easier to just ignore it and go back to sleep. Everly’s not awake, I have time.
That’s when I realize my mistake. The all tellingdot dot dotshave given me away.
Fuck.
MILES THE GREAT: Spit it out,Al.
THE DUKE: Oh my God, what the fuck is going on?
MILES THE GREAT: Morning, Your Grace. Want to come for a ride?
THE DUKE: No. I want to go back to sleep.
THE DUKE: Holiday wants to know if I can add her to this group chat, seeing as you woke us both up.
