Page 12 of Miles Apart
“You know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that,” I force out. “There’s a poker game on one of the upper levels I want to check out.”
If I could kick my own ass, I would. Miles is still on my mind, and I’ll be damned if a man has me this ruffled. He’s loud, obnoxious, unfiltered, and enraging. He’s also a clit tingler and a panty soaker, with that hypnotic grin and the way he sinks those white teeth into his thick lower lip. I haven’t seen so much as a dick hair, and I still have his tip on my mind, wondering if Miles feels as good as he smells.
Lunch wasn’t a distraction. Neither was snowmobiling. Miles is everywhere—in my thoughts and wherever I turn. But I won’t fuck him, sofuck him.
I’m not on my way to poker, but I would clean house and take the deed if I were. I learned how to school my features at a young age, and that comes in handy with people who underestimate me. What little time I spent with my father growing up included his beloved card deck and his Congress buddies placing bets. I enjoy poker, but that’s not the game I want to play tonight.
My lie is believable enough for Justice not to look at me sideways. She doesn’t question my whereabouts. Another trip to Ravenous is how I’ll end my night.
It’s time I take my own advice.
The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one, right?
“This might be the best idea you’ve had in a long time,” I say to Justice through the hotel phone. Rising steam from the bubble bath creates a thin cloud of lavender from the tub.
Tonight was a complete bust that requires pampering.
I made it to Ravenous, fully prepared to enjoy all of its pleasures. The crowd was smaller than last night’s, but sex and kink reigned thick in the air, and I was ready for my high.
I looked flawless.
I felt amazing.
Even cloaked in layers of satin, eyes gravitated to me, hungry for the chance to see what was underneath my black robe and lace mask.
I didn’t need their lust to reaffirm what I already know: I’m fine as hell, and I could have any man I want on his knees at the tips of my open-toe heels.
If only they were the one whose desire mixed with pain at not touching me when I teased him within an inch of his life.
Every dark figure became an apparition of the man haunting me, the one I can’t escape. I saw Miles in the shadows at Ravenous, in the hooded gaze of masked figures who matched his build but lacked the fire in their eyes to incinerate me with a single look. Miles was everywhere and nowhere, with a hold on me as vivid as the memory of us in Justice and Terrence’s hallway that keeps seeping back into my mind.
“How’s your chocolate cake?” Justice asks.
“It would taste better if it could erase the memories of a certain dick,” I confess.
“A person or an organ?”
“Both.”
After Ravenous, I rushed back to my suite with my tail between my legs, unsure how to extract myself from the nightmare of the man I can’t stop thinking about. I opened Pandora’s Box, and wish I could close it again.
“I’m surprised I didn’t find you with your suitcases ready to go when I came back.”
Looks like I’m not the only one whose night went to shit. Justice freaked out after seeing Terrence with Madison at tonight’s whiskey tasting event. The details are blurry, like why he walked in with herandMiles, but Jay acted out of character. She saw West and pretended to flirt to guard her heart, which blew up in her face once Terrence followed them into a back room. The only thing he walked in on was Justice keeping West company while he retrieved wine bottles. But that didn’t stop an argument with years’ worth of heartbreak thrown at their feet.
“You should’ve seen how much I hurt him tonight,” Justice murmurs under a long breath. “Terrence was as mad as the night I left him.”
I was on a plane out to Austin the same night Justice called me to say her marriage was over. The swell of her pain was beyond tears when I finally reached her. She was numb, a fragment of her cheerful self, who was slipping away. I wanted to do something—feelsomething—for her to transfer the agony. Hurt lay naked in her eyes seven months ago, the same way they did tonight when she finally came back to the room.
We’re on the phone with each other from our bathrooms now, soaking in our freestanding tubs with dessert trays to comfort us. If only they worked.
“You two spent close to a year not talking,” I tell her. “It was only a matter of time before things erupted. You’re hurt. He’s hurt. You both lost so much, and you haven’t properly healed.” I don’t pray, but in this moment I do in hopes it will soothe her. Ican’t erase the fight Justice had with Terrence, but I can be here for her however she needs.
“You know, you have some pretty good instincts for someone who hates relationships.” The first glimpse of humor cracks through her voice.
“I’m not sure I’d know how to be in a relationship if I tried.” My words stun me to silence. I don’t know what possessed the admission. It’s nothing new, nor a secret. Casual sex guards your heart, to keep you from giving it away to the wrong person.
How’s that going?
