“I’m working on it,” he says. “I was wrong to just shut down like that. I should have talked to you about what I was feeling. I was all caught up in howhemade me feel, I couldn’t process how I felt about it myself.”
O’Rourke.
“I hear they’re investigating him,” I mention casually. “He’s been bullying other people. It’s not just you. He’s—”
There’s an angry slash of red coloring his cheeks.
“Don’t use that word,” he says quietly.
“What word?”
He swallows thickly. “That’s not—he wasn’t—it’s—”
He’s still processing. He can’t admit that’s what happened to him. O’Rourke’s targeting of him was bullying, plain and simple.
And now O’Rourke is going to get what’s coming to him. If the school can pinpoint that the online harassment is originating from his phone… well, he won’t just be kicked off the volleyball team, he’ll likely be expelled from the university. The school takes their bullying policy seriously.
“Okay,” I tell Miles, running my thumb over his lower lip. “Okay.”
He kisses my finger, swirling his tongue around the digit. “How serious are you about going to this formal thing?”
I laugh. “You’re not getting out of it that easily.”
The ballroom at the Walton Hotel is decked out in Kappa turquoise and white. The decorating committee did a kickass job in setting everything up. Miles and I arrive a little late—we missed the hour of taking pictures, thankfully—and hand in hand. I’m not letting him go that easily.
Wendy has a few sharp words for my tardiness. She lets the lecture fall when she sees the smile on my face. I haven’t been smiling lately. My sisters have helped to pick me up, but I haven’t been myself.
I don’t like that I fell to pieces over some guy—any guy. That’s not me. Once I’ve had some distance from the last few days, I’m going to need some serious time to reflect.
Being with Miles makes me happy. It’s as simple as that. We work well together. He’s strong, physically and mentally, and if he needs me to pick up the slack emotionally, well, I’m happy to do so. Time will tell if he will really let me support him the way he needs to. A relationship is all about give and take. Right now, I’ll give a little more if that's what it takes.
I can’t keep my hands off of him. We sit down to dinner, and my hand lands on his thigh. He wraps his arm around the back of my chair, drawing me into his side. I meet him for a chaste kiss that quickly becomes much less chaste.
“Jeez, get a room,” Tamar says. She’s grinning, her eyes bright. She’s not poking fun; it actually seems like she’s happy for me. For us.
“How about it, big guy,” I tease, rubbing my nose against his cheek in what I hope is an alluring seduction. “Want to get a room for tonight?”
He swallows. “Here?”
“Or your place. Or my place. I’m not picky.” My hand slides ever so slightly higher. He gulps. “As long as there’s a bed, I’m happy.”
He covers my hand with his and drags it back down towards his knee. “I’ll go wherever you are.” His voice lowers and his eyes soften. “I’ve missed you, baby. I’m sorry I was—”
“I know.” I cuddle into his side. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Dinner is adequate. Roasted chicken, some vegetables, potatoes. It’s an average size portion for me. Poor Miles is left starving after he eats his tiny portion. His stomach growls and his face flushes a brilliant red.
“I haven’t been eating so much the last few days,” he admits. “I haven’t had an appetite.”
“I’ve been eating all the things,” I admit. “My dress nearly didn’t fit.”
His eyes roam over my curves with a predatory glint. “You look great to me.”
“Thank you.” I meet him for a chaste kiss, mindful of the dozens of people in the room. If this escalates the way I want it to, I’ll be pulling off his clothes within an hour. And I spent way too long on doing my hair and makeup for it all to be over so soon.
As dinner winds to a close, the dance floor gets more and more packed with people. Couples gyrate on the crowded dance floor. The tables empty out as everyone gets busy getting busy.
I place my hand high on Miles’s thigh. “Would you like to dance?”