Page 89 of Miles Apart
A high-arched brow lifts. “Money is on the way.”
We clink glasses.
Do I like Madison? No.
Am I all femmes of the world securing the bag? Absolutely.
But that doesn’t absolve Madison of her behavior.
My smile fades. “No more games. Our paths might cross, but you have to make up for the harm you caused.”
“Yes, I do.” She swipes at a tear. “Can I ask you something?”
“You haven’t been quiet yet.” I put my glass on the bar and motion for her to get it over with, all while avoiding another look from the bartender.
“Are you okay?” She hesitates. “You don’t owe me anything—least of all an explanation—but I recognize it. The mask to make everything look like it’s fine when it’s not.” Her grip tightens around her champagne flute. “I wore it for many years. Still do.”
Melodies from the instrumental music piping through hidden speakers fill the silence. A large mirror spanning the length of the honey-wood bar reflects low-hung chandeliers, top-shelf bottles, and two women who might have more than their pasts in common.
“When is feeling ignored enough?” The question slips out before I can catch it and tuck it away.
“Let me know once you find out,” she says in a ragged whisper laced with tension.
“You know what? Fuck this.” I throw both hands up and earn the bartender’s attention once again. His eyebrows sharpen at my outburst. “I don’t want to feel this anymore.” My hands motion around my heart, which has caused more pain than pleasure.
Not true, and you know it.
“No more!” Madison jumps at the bass in my voice but nods with doe eyes and zero understanding.
The more I replay Miles’s leaving, the more pissed I am for caring. His dick is exceptional, but I lived without it before and I’ll do it again.
The TED Talk for my spirit, sponsored by the good people at vodka, is a masterclass on empowerment and not letting a penis of any kind fuck you over.
“No more tears.”
“No more!” Confidence trickles into Madison’s voice. “He left me for another work emergency, like I’m luggage he can put down and pick up whenever he wants. I’m sick of it.”
“That’s right!” Also, what? “Who—”
She lifts her chin and guzzles the rest of her champagne cocktail. “If he wanted me, he would come and get me, but I’m not waiting around to find out.”
Now I’m lost. All of that groveling tonight did not come with CliffsNotes about a man and work emergencies.
“Rewind,” I say. “What man are you talking about?” A lover, obviously, but I want details with no crumbs spared.
I’m so caught up trying to piece it together that I miss Madison’s parted lips and her brows reaching for her hairline.
“Miles,” Madison whispers.
My stomach drops and takes my jaw with it. Please God, no. “Miles?”
“Miles,” she repeats, her wide eyes locked over my shoulder.
A figure from behind casts a shadow over me. Musk invades my senses. I fight the attraction, but weeks apart will have you acting out of character.
I shut my eyes, unable to contend with the reality that the man I let insert himself into my life only to leave me in shambles is here. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as he leans over, his mouth an inch from my ear.
“Kitten.”
