Page 67 of Miles Apart
I want to laugh my ass off. For once, Juliette Douglass is speechless, and it took Miles two sentences to do it.
“In the time we’ve shared, your daughter had her collection featured in fashion week, flew to Milan to meet with vendors, and is working hard to sustain her success.” Miles directs his words to my mother. “I’m not a parent, nor do I want to be, but Emma’s happiness should be your focus, not trying to contort her into a box or control her.”
My heart cracks open, flooding warmth into pieces of me that were frozen over but are now regaining circulation. I’m not an emotional person, but in this moment, I want to feel every single feeling. Mainly gratitude for my friend.
“You’re so unappreciative,” Blair stammers from next to my mother, whose gaze is lost in the distance. “Your parents give you everything, and you throw it in their faces to chase after lust and gold.”
Laughter tips my head back. This dinner might get me committed. “Says the person who followed me around work, begging to be part of one of my campaigns. Do us all a favor, Blair: stopchasingafter other people’s lives and live your own.” I push my water glass to the middle of the table. “I’m not that thirsty, and you clearly need this more than me.”
Miles’s lips twitch over his drink.
“Where did I go wrong with you?” My mother laces her voice with every ounce of disdain she can muster. Her ice-cold stare is as pale as her ivory skin. I’ve always questioned if part of her regrets me. Now I know. “First your embarrassment of a profession, and now bringing this hoodlum—”
Her rant ends prematurely to a wave of gasps. Conversations stop as our private area goes pitch-black. Servers scramble to figure out the source of the power outage and why it only affects our section and not the entire restaurant.
“Let’s go.” Miles pulls me up and guides us through the landmine of tables. We reach the front of the building, and he signals for the valet to get our cars.
“You deal with that shit on the regular?” He glowers and turns away.
“What?”
“Them speaking to you wild as fuck!” Maple eyes darken into thunderclouds. Miles steps back to check his temper and scrubs a hand over his face. “Shit isn’t cool, Em.”
You think I don’t know that?
My brows furrow. “I’ve dealt with that my whole life. It’s nothing new or anything I can’t handle—”
“Yourself.” He nods. “You always got it and don’t need anyone else.”
I hesitate, baffled, trying understand Miles’s reaction. The desire to protect me reflects in his eyes like a possession. “Why do you care so much?” My gaze flicks up to find him staring down at me.
The air shifts through a series of exploding currents prickling my skin. Miles is so close, I feel the heat of his body. Drops of moisture cling to his smooth mocha skin over brows once drawn downward and easing into the handsome face I’ve admired. My fingers yearn to touch him in a way I haven’t before.
“I should go.” The words release on their own, pulling me away from Miles, trying to understand the wedge I’m resecuring between us.
He searches my face in a fury of glances that land against my skin like forehead kisses. “Are you okay?” The rich timbre floats above a husky whisper.
My weak smile clings to the edges of my control. “I will be.” I can give him that. “I’ve had enough excitement for one night and want to clear my head.”
He unfastens his stare and releases a breath. “I understand. Just”—his gaze rakes over my face, pulling his brows back together—“text me at some point to let me know you’re okay. Please.”
“I can do that.”
The valet arrives with my car. I slip in and speed off.
Aged wood groans as my five-inch, patent leather pumps amble over its weathered surface. Neon lights shine over quiet ripples succumbing to the ebbs and flows of the ocean.
I drove around lost in city lights and thoughts that sped too fast to catch until I found parking near the last place my head was clear enough to revel in the moment. I never intended to come back to the Santa Monica Pier, but this stretch of boardwalk is helping me process. It’s close to ten, which means it’s almost midnight in Austin. Too late to call Justice with the time difference.
She doesn’t know about my arrangement with Miles that has him sleeping down the hall from me every night. I’m assuming he hasn’t told Terrence given Justice hasn’t flown over here to rip me a new one for keeping such a secret. I never meant to withhold it, but I also didn’t imagine the sequence of events from the singles’ retreat until now.
My feelings for Miles are changing. Every sense leaps to life in his presence—the way he cares for me as much as he brings my body pleasure. Miles stepped up for me tonight in a way no one ever has. I take care of myself, I always do, but a weight released when I wasn’t the only one defending myself at the table. Miles became my knight, protecting my peace not out of obligation, but because he cares for me.
Sex anchored us, but we’ve transcended that now. Roots grew, stretching below the safety of the surface, and that scares me. The more time I spend around Miles, the more I lose my touch. I’m revealing parts of myself I’ve kept hidden for so long I forgot they existed, and it’s all because of him.
My pointed-toe red bottoms stall at the figure down at the end of the pier double-fisting two hot dogs. Miles stops mid-bite when his eyes drift to me. That’s another thing about us we can’t seem to escape: chance run-ins.
“Are you stalking me?” Humor nestles itself in my voice.
