Page 17 of Tourist Trap

He blinks at me a few times before responding curiously.

“You have a hedgehog?”

I shake my head and smile. “No, but if I did, it would be pretty lonely.” I shift on the bed, curling my leg under myself and putting a fist to my chin like I’m a student paying attention to the teacher. “What other rules do you have?”

“No overnight guests. June or Lainey are fine. No…no guys.”

My eyes go wide with fake shock because I wouldn’t have even considered bringing home someone to Miles’s house.

“What about daytime guests?” I tip my head to the side, my hair tumbling over my shoulder, and I use a finger to twirl a lock of it around. “Like, if they just come for a quickie. Is that allowed?”

“No,” he says bluntly and quickly, and I fight a small laugh before giving him a salute.

“Got it. Take it to their place.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Curfew is eleven.”

“Curfew?” I ask with a laugh. “I haven’t had a curfew since I was seventeen.”

“Well, then we’re going to pretend you’re seventeen.”

“That would make things very awkward between us,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows, and as expected and hoped, a blush spreads across his cheeks.

His jaw tightens, and he points an accusing finger at me. “That. We’re not doing that.”

“Doing what?” I ask, innocently.

“That’s my next rule. No flirting.”

I cringe. “Ooh, that’s gonna be a hard pass. Physically impossible for me.”

He sighs and runs a hand over his face like he’s questioning all of his life’s choices, specifically agreeing to have me stay here. After a moment, he seems to have found whatever inner strength he was looking for and locks his eyes with mine, shoulder straightening.

“You can’t flirt with me, Claire.”

“Why not? I love flirting. It’s basically one of my three personality traits. Hot, funny, a flirt.” I tick them off on my fingers with a grin, and he opens and closes his mouth like he wants to argue before shaking his head.

“Because you’re my renter, and I’m your landlord. And you’re my brother’s ex.”

I roll my eyes at that.

“That means nothing to Paul, and I’m sure even you know that.”

His head tips just a bit, and then his mouth opens like he’s about to argue before he thinks better of it. “Regardless, no flirting. Pretend I’m your brother. Or your dad.”

“That would make thinking about you very uncomfortable, Miles,” I say in an exaggerated whisper. His eyes go comically wide before he stutters out an answer.

“No,” he says. “None of that. End of discussion.”

“But it’s so cute when you blush and get all weird about me,” I say with a smile.

He lets out a deep sigh, and god, it’s like when I first came here when I was nineteen, when every time I was down the shore with June, I would purposely flirt with him, and he’d instantly get all red and nervous.

It’s like a jolt of nostalgia hits me, aching because I truly did miss this.

“We’re not doing that. No flirting.”

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