Myles lets out a little sigh, picking up his camera and flicking back through the photos. I gaze at him, marveling at how he’s gotten through to me, once again. How does he do this? How does he cut through everything I put up to keep the world out? How does he really, truly,knowme?
I step closer and press my lips to his cheek. He sets the camera down and turns to me, eyes roaming my face. Emotion rushes under my skin, too close to the surface. It feels like he can see everything and I want to turn away, to hide. But then, that’s never worked, has it? He’s always seen me anyway.
“My heart,” I murmur. “I want to listen to my heart.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll have to work at turning the volume down on the other one, but yeah. My heart.”
His eyes shimmer with relief. “Can I kiss you now?”
I open my mouth to sayGod, yes, but before I can even get the words out he tugs me into his arms, bringing his lips down onto mine in a warm, tender kiss. My hands ball into fists in the soft cotton of his shirt; his fingers clutch at my back.
When he finally pulls his mouth from mine, he buries his face in my hair and I nuzzle against his chest, breathing in great lungfuls of him. I try not to laugh at how delusional I was, telling myself I just wanted to spend a little time with him and see where things go. Because I don’t want just that, I want so much more. I want everything.Allof him. How could I not?
“Shit,” he says, stroking a thumb over my cheek. “I wasn’t sure I was going to win that one.”
I let out a soft giggle. “It’s a good thing you’re so patient. I never realized how stubborn I am.”
“Verystubborn.” He leans down to kiss my bare shoulder. “But you’re worth the wait.”
“So are you,” I breathe. And while I can’t say the exact words he wants to hear right now, I can say what I’ve been denying myself for some time. “I’m so crazy about you, Myles.”
He tries to curb the disbelieving smile pulling at his mouth. “Are you serious? Is this—I mean, is this really a thing, you and me?”
“I hope so?”
His grin grows wider. “Yes. Fuck yes.”
He presses his mouth to mine again, and I tingle all over with wanting. I let out a little moan, angling my head to deepen the kiss. His tongue slides over mine, and I sink my nails into his back as heat rushes up me.
“What time do you have to be at work?” I ask breathlessly.
A low, husky laugh rumbles from him. “Two hours. But if I get into bed with you now, I’ll never leave. Besides, if you’re going to be my girlfriend, I want to take you on a date. Can you leave Stevie with Hayley? Can I take you to dinner?”
I glance at my phone, checking the time. “It’s four o’clock. You want to eat dinner now?”
“Well… this isn’t exactly how I imagined it, but right now it’s all I can do. Do you mind having a super early dinner with me?”
My heart swoops at the sweet, hopeful expression on his face. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Good.” He gathers me into his arms and holds me against his chest, kissing me on the head. I can hear his heart beating rhythmically through his shirt, and that feeling of safety hums through me again—the one I felt when he held me last night. God, it’s amazing.
Why was I fighting him so hard?
29
Myles takes me to a tiny Japanese place a few blocks away. We find a table in the back corner and sit as close as we can, eating takoyaki and talking about his web design business, trying to keep our hands off each other. I changed out of the polka-dot dress—it was far too outrageous for an afternoon dinner date—into another design of mine; knee-length, emerald green, pretty. I keep catching Myles looking at me, smiling this secret smile to himself, and then he stops eating just to kiss me. And my knees go weak, every time.
By the time he has to go to work neither of us wants to part ways, but I promise I’ll come see him at the bar later. He walks me back to the store, and as I watch him head off to work with a big, goofy grin on his face, I’m overcome with inspiration to sew. I spend the next four hours making a new dress and thinking about Myles, about how I almost pushed him away again, and how glad I am that he didn’t let me this time.
When I finally look up from my sewing machine, I can’t believe it’s after ten. I’m itching to see him again, to go to Bounce and kiss him. But before I do that, I do something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. Myles pointed out at dinner that I need to stop putting it off, and he’s right.
I type out an email to Mark, telling him I’m leaving the store. I never did sign the new lease agreement he gave me and I’m not sure of the legal terms for me to leave, but I figure I’m still under my old lease. I tell him I’ll pay the last month of rent as he’s expecting, but after that I’m done.
When I finally hit send, I feel a massive, cool wave of relief wash over me. Finally, I’m taking my business into my own hands—into my own control. Soon I’ll have my online business, and we’ll have the booth, and Mark will havenothingto do with it.
And that feels amazing.
