“What?”
“Listen to this.” I search for the band we saw earlier and put the music on. Well, “music” is a bit of a stretch.
Myles listens, screwing up his face at the clashing notes. “What the fuck is this?”
“Right?!”
He raises his hands to his ears. “Please make it stop.”
I turn the cacophony off and we both sit for a moment, enjoying the sweet silence.
“Were you trying to punish me, or something?”
“No.” I lean back against the wall and place my feet up on the counter again. “Shane likes it.”
“Jesus Christ. That guy’s a nutjob.”
I take a long sip of my tea, setting the mug down with a sigh. I’m feeling much more relaxed, and now, I find myself wanting to talk about tonight, to get it off my chest. Maybe that will help me shake off this odd feeling. “You want to know what happened?”
Myles nods, kicking his feet up on the counter beside mine. His gaze rests on my bare legs before shifting to my face. “Sure, if you want to tell me.”
“He was annoyed that I wouldn’t sleep with him. He basically said that I owe him and he’d waited long enough, so I left.” I draw breath to tell him about the kiss, the one that made me panic in the backseat of the cab, then decide against it. It will only invite more questions—questions I don’t want to answer. I’ll have to explain that some guy tried to force himself on me in the back of a nightclub last year, and I don’t make a habit of telling people that because they freak out. I told Cory and now he watches me like a hawk. I told Geoff and he tried to get me to see a shrink. So I decided it was best to keep that little tidbit to myself.
Myles grimaces. “What an asshole. I’m sorry.”
I tilt my head, regarding him curiously. How funny that after everything, Myles is the one apologizing when it should be Shane.
“Yeah,” I murmur, smoothing my hands over my dress, running my finger along the hemline where it sits mid-thigh.
I glance up to find Myles watching my hands, then he lifts his gaze to mine, swallowing audibly. “You didn’t want to sleep with him?”
“I was probably going to, eventually. But I was trying to wait, see if it could be more than that—you know, not rush that stuff. But he couldn’t understand.” I sag, looking down at my lap. I seem to be having this conversation with a few people lately. It’s starting to feel like I’ve developed a complex about sex or something. “Maybe I should have just done it and gotten it over with,” I mumble.
“You’re kidding.”
“Well, you know, it’s been a while for me. It feels like it’s becoming this big thing. I kind of just want to do it now.” I give an awkward laugh, reaching for my tea again. “Look, it’s not like I don’t… I mean, I own battery-operated devices that, you know, make me—” I break off, cringing. God, what am I saying?
I sneak a glance at Myles and he’s staring down into his mug, eyebrows raised, cheeks pink.
“Sorry.” I feel my own face warm. “You don’t want to hear this.”
“Maybe I do,” he says, his voice a low rumble beside me. His eyes meet mine and I notice they’re darker than usual, his pupils dilated until they’re almost black.
We stare at each other. My pulse quickens, and for the briefest second I imagine what Myles might be like in bed. That feeling from earlier is stronger than ever now, telling me I shouldn’t have been out with Shane at all tonight.
Then a siren screeches past outside and I come to my senses, wrenching my gaze from his.
What the hell am I doing? He might be nice to look at, and very sweet for listening to me bleat on about my atrocious sex life, but the absolutelastperson I should be fantasizing about is Myles. Cory made it pretty clear what a mistake that would be—a mistake I’mnotgoing to make again.
I drain my tea and set the mug down, pulling my legs off the counter. Beside me, Myles clears his throat and stands, reaching for his camera.
“I should get back to this.”
“Sure,” I say, relieved to feel the electricity between us dissipate. I watch as he grabs a dress and hangs it on a hook against one of the walls, snapping a few photos. “Do you need any help?”
“Not right now, but…” He pauses, his eyes traveling over me. “I think these would look a lot better on a model.”
I glance at the dress, nodding. “Yeah, but I can’t afford a model. And—”
