Page 29 of Stuck-Up Big Shot
“Fine, I’m sorry. I take the words back. I didn’t mean them. I just don’t want either of you to do something that could get you hurt. Boys can be stupid and thoughtless. I only want to protect you, Meli.”
Using her nickname, and the way his voice softens, seems to do the same thing to Mel’s hard exterior. She melts into the hug he gives her as he wraps his long, brawny arms around her and holds her tight.
I swallow and look down at my feet, once again feeling like the invisible third wheel. Melodie and Miles have such a strong sibling connection, made even stronger because they’ve had only each other to rely on since their mother died.
Realizing they have left me out, Miles opens his arm to me and smiles, nudging his chin for me to join them.
When I do, my heart pounds out a wild beat inside my chest, my breathing turning erratic, as I feel for the first time what it might be like to be loved by Miles.
It’s more than comfort and brotherly protection that I want from Miles.
But at my age, I can’t possibly put into words just exactly what it is I want from him.
I only know my heart beats for something more.
16
Miles
“Morning, Ben.”
Ben Schilling looks up from his desk with a smile and a warm greeting. Our marketing manager at Morgan Financial is an upstanding guy, but one I haven’t had the time to get to know all that well.
“Hey, Miles. How’s it going?”
Now that I know he’s Sutton’s cousin, it gives me all the more reason to chat Ben up to find out more about her—covertly. The woman who has been on my mind for weeks. Who has burrowed under my skin and has me waking in the middle of the night from residual melancholy dreams about my late sister.
I don’t know why she evokes those memories.
“Come on in and have a seat. I’m glad you stopped by this morning because there’s an upcoming event I need you to attend in Graham’s absence.”
Inwardly groaning at having to do something social, I pull out the brown leather desk chair across from Ben and take a seat. I lift my foot and cross a relaxed leg over my knee, unbuttoning my suit jacket.
“What event are you talking about?”
One aspect of Ben’s job is to get us out into the community and volunteer to help those in need. The last charity event Ben arranged that I attended with Graham was a thousand-dollar-a-plate auction to raise money for low-income families in the projects.
Ben riffles through some papers on his desk, which looks like an explosion happened because of the mess of files dispersed everywhere. For all the good Ben does, he’s a disorganized mess. Definitely not at all how my office looks.
Some might call me a neat freak, but as I’ve learned, you can really control only a few things in life, and keeping my life organized is one of them.
The one thing I don’t mind a little messy and dirty now and again is my sex life. That’s when I enjoy letting go, rough and raw.
“Ah, here it is.” He hands me a brochure from across the desk, which I accept and give a cursory read through.
When I return my attention to Ben, he continues with a jovial grin.
“We’re hosting a volunteer event to help out a local outreach program for troubled youth. You know, kids and teens that have fallen into the cracks of society. Those who have run away from their homes due to abuse or neglect. Some kids have dabbled in drugs, or been sex trafficked, or caught up in gangs.”
He frowns in displeasure, and the moment he mentions abuse and drugs, my body stiffens and my pulse cranks up, my heart pounding like a jackhammer trying to beat out of my chest.
I swallow and nod, hoping to look calm, but Ben seems to notice my physiological change and tilts his head in question.
“Everything okay, Miles? Need some water or something?” He swivels in his chair, opening a mini fridge at the corner of his office to extract a small bottle, handing it to me with concern etched across his forehead.
I accept it gratefully, unscrewing the top and taking a swig, hoping it’ll rid me of the wave of dizzy lightheadedness thrumming through my head, a dull buzz in my ears swarms like bees.
This event hits too close to home.
