The city isn’t as quiet as this town; it isn’t as cozy and slow-paced. Calvin will be ambushed at every crowded corner that they step out on, and they won’t have the garden to retreat to.
He glances at Calvin, who’s watching him back. He looks about one yawn away from passing out. Smiling, Miles touches his arm. “You’re too far. Come here.”
Calvin doesn’t protest when he pulls him close, and his eyes threaten to shut when Miles presses a kiss against his temple.
“So, you don’t like pet names?” Miles asks, absently playing with the strands of his hair.
“No.” Calvin scowls and grumbles something incoherent, then pushes his face against his shoulder. Miles realizes, with fascination, that his ears and neck are red.
And…oh.Miles gets it. “Rather… you likethem too much?”
Silence. Then Calvin grunts and punches him lightly on his side.
Fuck, he’scute.
Calvin’s going to be the end of him.
“You did good today,” Calvin murmurs.
Startled, Miles is about to respond, but Calvin’s breathing slowly evens out, and he falls asleep with his face pressed against Miles’s shoulder. Something warm flutters in Miles’s stomach, and he presses a light kiss against Calvin’s ear.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miles wakes up too early. The sun’s barely risen, and the clock says it’s half-past six. Next to him on the bed, Calvin’s still asleep. There are pink marks on his chest from where Miles sucked too hard—oops.
Slowly and quietly, Miles gets up and slips his boxers on. He freshens up in the bathroom and realizes he only has the inn’s uniform and nothing else, all crumpled up and tossed on the ground. After an internal debate, he grabs a shirt and jeans from Calvin’s closet. It should be okay. With what Calvin’s let him get away with, stealing his clothes doesn’t seem too bad.
He heads to the lobby and is just about to turn into the dining room when he spots a familiar face and takes a double take.
There, sitting in the lobby, is no other than Theo Reid. Theo’s attention snaps up at him from across the room and before he knows it, Theo’s walking over to him.
What the hell?
“Hey,” Theo greets. “Miles, right? Cal’s friend from the festival? He did mention you own this place.”
“Yeah.” Miles puts his hands to his sides, way too stiffly.
“Sorry for the trouble.” His gaze flickers at Miles, and he frowns at the shirt he’s wearing—Calvin’s shirt. He must recognize it. “I really, really need to get in touch with Cal. I’ve been trying to reach him since last night. He hasn’t been answering—it’s not like him, and I’m worried, is all. He always takes forever to text back, but he doesn’t… not. Your staff won’t give me anything. They won’t even call his room. What if he’s out cold?”
He’s not out cold, Miles wants to say. He’s actually pretty warm right now in the comfort of the bed they both fell asleep in. “We’re not allowed to, but you’re welcome to wait here. We’re serving breakfast, if you’d like some.”
“You know who I am. Can you tell me his room number, please?”
“It’s policy.”
“Fine. Okay. I get it. I’ll wait here.”
“Thanks,” he says, as politely as he can muster. “Excuse me.”
Instead of grabbing breakfast for him and Calvin, Miles turns around and heads back to Calvin’s room.
Predictably, he’s still sound asleep.
“Calvin.” He nudges Calvin’s shoulder. “Calvin… hey.”
The blanket drops lower to his waist when he stirs, and Miles is momentarily distracted by his toned torso. Calvin mutters something incoherent and slowly opens his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven. Wake up.”
