I lean over the bar, pressing my mouth to his ear. “Let’s go. Now.”
18
The door to Myles’s apartment clicks shut behind us and he flicks the lights on.
I stand rooted to the spot, clutching my purse to my chest. We took a cab here, which I was hoping would be quick, but even the five minute drive was enough to break the spell from the bar. Now here, in the quiet, well-lit space of his tiny basement apartment, everything feels strange. What on earth was I thinking?
Myles turns to me, grinning as he steps closer. He reaches out to touch me and I take a step back, colliding with the closed door.
His forehead creases. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” A nervous laugh sneaks out of me. “It’s just hitting me what we are about to do.”
“Yeah.” He laughs too, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Look, we don’t have to do anything. I’m surprised you even mentioned it again. I never thought you’d take me up on it.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were kidding or not.” Another awkward squeak from me. “You’re always joking about that sort of thing.”
He gives a slow shake of his head. “I wasn’t. And for the record, any time I’ve suggested that I want to have sex with you, I wasn’t kidding.” His eyes track over my face, dark and intense. It makes my blood heat and I flush all over.
“Well…” I lift my chin. “If you still want to, then I do too.”
He bites his lip, taking another step toward me.
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “I just, um, need a moment to get ready.”
“Oh, yeah.” He steps back with a self-conscious laugh. “Totally. Me too.”
I lower my gaze to the unmistakable bulge in his pants and smile teasingly. “You appear to be ready.”
He reaches a hand down to adjust himself, color painting his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles, turning away. I’m not used to seeing him embarrassed like this, but strangely, it makes me more attracted to him.
“No,” I say in a low voice, a satisfied smile pushing at my lips. “I like it.”
He turns back to me, breathing hard. I expect him to step toward me again but he just stands there, arms hanging by his sides, waiting for me to make the first move.
I stare back at him, wide-eyed. I can’t make the first move. This isMyles, for crying out loud. He’s the guy who works for my brother, who’s helping me build my new business. He’s my friend.
“Should we have a drink?” he asks.
“Yes.” I pounce on the suggestion. Anything to break this tension.
He heads into the kitchen then hesitates, turning back to me. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not drunk; I switched to water a while ago. But… it might help us to relax a little?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and pours two glasses, handing one to me before clinking his glass against mine.
We drink in silence, refusing to glance at each other. A car alarm sounds on the street while we both stand there woodenly, sipping whiskey and pretending we aren’t about to have sex.
“Maybe some music?” Myles suggests after a while.
“Sure.”
He pulls a Bluetooth speaker out and grabs his phone. A moment later I hear an awful, strangled screeching sound from the speaker and I glance at him in confusion.
“What do you think?” He raises a hand to cover his smile. “It’s a new genre I’ve just discovered; experimental jazz.”
I throw my head back as a laugh rushes up my body and bursts out.
