Page 68 of Miles Apart
Miles hikes a brow. “Who was here first? One of the interns in Zo’s office mentioned a stand here with Japanese-inspired hot dogs. I was too busy to make it for lunch and figured now was good since we didn’t have dinner.” He chuckles to himself and looks away. “Can’t stop running into you.”
My smile spreads at his. “Guess not.”
When I reach him, Miles hands me a hot dog with fried onions, teriyaki sauce, and Japanese mayo, and I devour it. We exchange nods between chews and settle in at the end of the pier to watch the moon dance over the ocean.
“You good, Em?” Miles’s eyes drift to my profile from his perch against the railing. His forearms rest over the metal, placing his body at my eye level. Miles looks good in a suit, but his overcoat and beanie tipped to the side send me back to New York. Him waiting in the shadows, walking back to my suite, and thrusting us into an unforgettable affair.
Pleasure tightens my breath, and I release it with a sigh. “Yeah. Just embarrassed at this point.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“I feel too old to let them affect me the way they do. When do I allow anyone else to act like that? I’m over it.”
“So be done,” Miles says matter-of-factly. “Stop holding on to things that no longer serve you. If that includes your family, you have other people who care about you. Justice. Her parents. T. Me.”
I’m caught off guard by the vibrancy in his voice. “Me” is a velvet murmur that takes flight, set free from a place of longing.
Miles stands to his full height, the magnetic pull and lure of his musk moving me to him. His gaze travels over my face, searching for the mirror we hold for each other. When he finds it, he swallows, his gaze compelling me to hear his heart.
“You asked me earlier why I care,” he says. “You’re too incredible to deal with unnecessary bullshit from the people who should love you the most.” His words are a stroke to my cheek, with adoration lighting his eyes.
I’m clueless as to what this means for our arrangement, but we’ll worry about it tomorrow. I take Miles by the face and press my lips to his. “Thank you. Not because I need saving, but for showing up when it means the most.”
“I got you, kitten. Them lights aren’t coming back on until tomorrow.” He pulls me to the corded muscles of his chest and kisses the top of my hair.
I stare for a beat before it sets in. “Youdid that?” My eyes damn near bulge from their sockets.
“Damn straight,” he says with a grin. “Call me the hoodlum hacker. I’ll turn off every light in the city before they disrespect you again in my presence.”
We bust out laughing. I stumble back in my heels, grip my sides, and keel over with delayed snorts. It all makes sense why he was on his phone.
Pink stains my cheeks from my cackling. I blot the tears form the corners of my eyes and swallow. “Let’s go home.”
We hop in our cars and race off to Malibu.
Chapter 31
Miles
“This legislation tracker is legit. It paints a clear picture of all the states that need to step it up. Great job.”
Paco, one of Zo’s newest interns, shrugs off the compliments to dig his shoe into the carpet. “It was nothing.”
“Nah, don’t downplay what you did. Own that with your whole chest.”
The kid is a buck thirty wet in a department store suit two sizes too big. His confidence hasn’t hit its growth spurt yet, but we’re working on it.
“Sorry, Mr. Walker.”
And that.
“Do I look like Morgan Freeman? I told you to call me Miles.” I’m all for respect, but I don’t need to feel like a church elder whenever I step into the office. I’m old as fuck compared to the rest of Zo’s LA office staff. They’re all in their early twenties or thirties, except Paco, who’s eighteen.
“My bad, Miles,” he says under a crown of shaggy brown hair that needs a trim.
“I won’t hold you. We’ll go over regulations and areas to strengthen later. Take an early lunch if you want.” Or scratch your nuts—I don’t care.
“Okay, thanks.” Paco waves and exits the conference room.
