Page 55 of Reckless

“If you want to open it, I’ll find glasses.” She twirled away and hunted through a few cabinets until she found what she needed.

“Can you take the plates and drinks up to our room, please? The pizza place just texted to say the pies were on the way. I’ll bring them when they get here,” she told him.

As if he’d just go upstairs and wait for her to answer the door to a stranger at nearly one in the morning?

“Oh, hey can you take this a second?” Miles handed her the bottle and once she was burdened by the things in her hands, he grinned. “I’ll get the door,” he called out over his shoulder as he heard the doorbell.

He heard her little growl, but it only made him smile more. She needed taking care of and that’s what he’d do.

“So tell me how I eye fucked a crowd?” he asked as he kicked the door closed behind himself.

“You know exactly how you eye fucked a crowd, Miles. You know when you do it to me and it’s just as distracting when you broadcast it to thousands. It’s part of your persona for sure. But it’s also part of the Miles behind the mask. You’re an inherently sexual being and you know how to use it to your advantage. Like getting me all addled and handing off that champagne while you went to the door.”

She changed into shorts and a barely there tank and then handed him a glass of champagne.

“To Madison Square Garden night one.” She tapped her glass to his and they took a drink.

“To two singles charting.” He tapped his glass to hers.

“To gold and multi-platinum and Mercury Reid,” she said.

They drank and kissed and drank some more before loading slices on their plates.

“You know,” he said after a few minutes, “Jeremy left me a voicemail earlier about a possible movie role. I wonder if it’s the same movie the song is for.”

“Whoa. Do you think?”

“I’m talking with him in the morning, so I’ll find out for sure.”

“Do you want to pursue acting jobs more now?” she asked.

“I’ve had two small film roles so far. It’s fun, you know? Something totally different from this part of my life, but really, it’s all acting in some way or another. Boosting a part of myself, lessening another. I don’t want acting to replace music, but it’s definitely a way to keep myself working across a few different fields. Money doesn’t hurt either.” He grinned.

“I saw both the movies you were in,” she admitted. “You’re good and the camera absolutely loves you. You have that something extra. It’s not just looks. You have charisma. You know how to work a crowd. You’re great with fans. You’ve got star power. People want to look at you, be around you. They want to buy your branded bass guitars and those spiffy watches you model for.”

“Sometimes it feels like maybe I took something meant for someone else.” He shrugged.

Truth was, there were times Miles was conflicted about taking modeling jobs. It seemed weird to profit off his looks. But as his dad had pointed out, it was just another part of his career. He didn’t have to take jobs for companies he didn’t like. But the money was good. It was a bit of advertising for the band, and it had gotten him other jobs from the exposure.

And truth be told, each successful gig he had was a way to prove to the world that he made his own success. That he wasn’t a fluke or something made out of shadows his famous family had created for him.

She nodded. “I understand.” Harlow, she got it. He didn’t even need to explain it all. “Deep down you know that’s bullshit. But it still can mess with your heart. I’m here to say there’s no one I’d rather buy a watch from because I’ve seen you looking gorgeous in an ad. Not because your dad is Adrian Brown. But because you’re Miles Brown.”

He leaned over to kiss her because she filled him with so much happiness. “You’re right. Thank you for reminding me. Speaking about the camera,” Miles said. “I keep meaning to tell you how much I like your photographs. I follow your social media. I didn’t even know who took all the pictures. I figured it was one person, but I realized the candids of everyone, but you were your work.”

Her blush shot straight to his gut. “The official ones at the various social media platforms and on our website are taken by Phil’s wife, Edda. She’s fantastic, right?”

“Yes. I like the ones of you all performing. And the glimpses of Earthquakes are nice.”

She looked up into his face. “Edda doesn’t do those, I do. The ones I post I do get permission for, I promise. I know you have your own social media presence, so I don’t want to overstep.”

Overstep? He’d been practically begging for more space in her public life so those shots of Earthquakes had absolutely made his day. “It never crossed my mind to wonder if you got permission. I’m not worried about that. I just like it that I’m there in this other part of your life.” Miles shrugged and realized she’d underlined a key difference between herself and his ex. He never worried that Harlow would use any part of their private life for her own gain. It just wasn’t who she was or how she did things.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“Will you post a picture of me when I’m still sleeping tomorrow morning?” he teased, and she guffawed.

“No, but I do have some on my phone. Those are for my own personal enjoyment. Reality is better anyway.”

---