“Are you okay?” He rubs his hands up and down my arms. “You’re freezing. Come here.” He pulls me into his arms, wrapping me up completely.
My cheek rests against his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into mine until I start to thaw.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, emotion thick in his voice as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
It’s only then that I realize I’m crying—silent tears soaking through his white dress shirt. I pull away. “I’m so sorry.” I swipe at my face. “Your shirt?—”
He cups my arms, leaning close until we’re eye to eye. “I couldn’t care less about my shirt. Are you okay?”
My body trembles as the adrenaline drains. “I’m fine.”
But I’m not. Not even close.
My biggest fear came true tonight. My past caught up with me. While LA is huge, the elite circles are small, and I’ve been running for over a decade—believing if I moved fast enough, it would all stay buried. Foolish. This moment was inevitable.
My brain is spinning. What does this mean? What will Tracey do? I would’ve hoped she’d grown empathy since she was fifteen. Clearly, I was wrong.
I need Anna—but I can’t darken her night with my drama. She deserves every ounce of her happiness. She’s the only one who’d understand, the one person who could pull me out of this spiral. But not tonight. Tonight, I have Miles—and thoughI know he’d love me anyway, I can’t tell him the truth. Some secrets are meant to stay buried.
Miles is still holding my arms. “Miranda,” he says, like it’s not the first time he’s tried to reach me.
I blink, his voice pulling me back into focus.
“Miranda,” he repeats, desperation in his tone. “Come back to me. Talk to me.”
The air feels heavy, muffled, like we’re underwater. My head throbs. My mouth won’t work. I’m trapped between thought and sound.
“I’m going to get Anna,” Miles says.
That jolts me out of the fog. “No.” My voice cracks. “No,” I repeat, stronger this time.
“Miranda,” he sighs, worry darkening his features. “What’s going on? Whowasthat bitch? What does she have on you? I’m so worried about you.”
I inhale slowly through my nose. “I’m fine.”
He studies me, eyes narrowing. Before he can argue, I continue, “I will be fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Please don’t say anything to Anna. I don’t want to ruin her big night.”
“Okay, but—” He glances over his shoulder toward the bar. Tracey is gone.
“Miles, can you do me a favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Don’t bring this up again. Don’t ask questions. And please—don’t ever search my name on the internet.”
His brows knit together.
“Please,” I whisper. “Just promise me.”
He clears his throat. “Okay. I promise.”
“We’ll never talk about tonight again?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“You swear you’ll never google me?”
“I promise.” He tucks a loose strand of hair that’s fallen from my updo behind my ear. “Everyone has a past, Sunshine. I hope you know I’d never judge you.”
