At least, he would be until I ruined it.
And that would have to be enough.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Hendrix
I lostcount of how many times Miles texted me between Tuesday morning and Thursday night. It was a stark change from the silence of the weekend, and it was taking some getting used to. Miles was undoubtedly a complicated man with a lot more swirling in his mind than I’d initially given him credit for.
He’d stayed longer on Monday night than he had the last time we’d fucked, but he was up before dawn just the same. With a kiss against my temple and a soft hand through my hair, he’d slipped out of the house nearly unnoticed. He’d stopped in the kitchen to pre-fill my coffee pot with grounds and water, so all I had to do was press the start button when I woke up. It was a quiet afterthought that stirred up some very loud feelings in my chest.
I’d texted him to thank him and he’d answered back with a smiling emoji, asking how I’d slept, asking if the stripes on my ass had bruised, asking if I could still feel his cock inside of me. The last one elicited a shiver that wracked its way from my spine to my neck, and I told him the truth on all three accounts.
Good, until he’d left.
Not as much as I would have liked.
And, lastly, absolutely yes.
Even though he lived next door, and even though we texted with more frequency than before, I didn’t see him at all during the week. His roommate made some appearances in the driveway, but I got the distinct impression he had no real reason to be there. It felt like he was spying on me and that was fine. If I had a roommate, I would have expected them to do the same considering how fast things between Miles and I were moving.
We’d gone from enemies, well…not enemies, more like annoyances, to fuck buddies, to casually dating, to exclusively dating in less than a week. All the while never actually going on a date with the other person. Our relationship was built on sex, which wasn’t a horrible thing, but it didn’t always make for lasting foundations. It had worked with Rome, but he and I were both the same kind of lonely and had been able to cast shadows where the other needed the truth to stay hidden.
I loved Rome once, very much, and I know he loved me too, but the truth of our last in-person conversation remained. He was a good man, and so was I, but we were not good for each other. I wasn’t sure Miles was good for me either, but I found that when I was up late, past midnight or before sunrise, I wanted him to be. I wanted Miles to be what I needed, and he’d given me the impression he felt the same about me.
Miles, after all, was the one setting the pace and the rules. He was the one who came over to my house, frantic at the thought of either of us being with someone else. Which had been a relief, because knowing where he’d gone that night had just about driven me mad. His assurances, both verbal and non-verbal, were exactly what I needed to believe him…to believeinhim. That was scary and reassuring all at the same time.
But with all of that in mind, there were still a lot of unspoken things between us, and I’d learned my lesson about letting those kinds of things linger in the dark. So, when Miles came to pick me up for our very first date, I asked him what I needed to know.
“What’s your last name?” I blurted, pulling the front door open.
If my question had caught him off guard, he didn’t let on. He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, a pale gray button-up with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His hair fell into his face, as deep and dark as the black slacks that hugged his legs. His lips twitched into the tease of a smile before settling into the casual arrogance that had made me hate him on first meeting.
“Nice to see you too,” he said, letting his hand finish the slide down his chest. He tucked both hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Kirsh. Miles Montgomery Kirsh.”
That was…
Miles had quite a name, and it fit him as well as those slacks.
“What about you?”
“Sutton.”
“And middle?” he asked.
I chuckled, checking my pockets for my wallet, phone, and keys. “Hendrix Charles Sutton.”
“Now that’s out of the way, I feel much better about coming inside of you on Saturday night.” Miles stepped out of the way so I could join him on the porch. “Are you ready for dinner?”
Heat flooded my face, and I locked the door, doing my best to not look at Miles so he didn’t see my embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong, and coming inside of me was exactly what he was going to do as soon as our test results were in. Maybe sooner—I didn’t know if I could wait. Thinking about taking him bare was one of the only things I’d thought about over the week, and knowing there were still days left to go wasn’t the most appealing thought I’d ever had. But it was something for us to discuss at dinner.
I knew from living next to him for the past few months that Miles drove a relatively new Audi SUV and he took impeccable care of it. I could have afforded something just as nice, but my old Toyota was just fine for me. It had survived almost a decade of East Coast winters and I’d been happy to drive her until she gave up. Climbing up into the soft and clean leather of Miles’s SUV had me doubting my dedication, though. The car was nice, with gleaming surfaces and ergonomic seat adjustments. A travel mug sat in one of his cup holders, some spare change in the other. When he turned the car on, the radio started to play something acoustic and soulful that I didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t what I’d expected of Miles, but the longer I listened, the more perfect it felt.
He put the car into reverse, but didn’t take his foot off the brake.
“I know we haven’t really talked about when I get to make decisions and when I don’t beyond a general, in the bedroom.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m taking you on this date and I’d like to make these decisions.”
The arrogance had left him, replaced with a quiet kind of confidence that had the taste of uncertainty just below the surface. I didn’t think Miles was unsure about the content of the message, but maybe the idea of it.
