“He was born and raised here in Mount Pleasant, so he’s never in a rush—always arriving exactly when he means to. He takes his time and has this calm, even way of speaking. Not quite a Southern drawl, but more like he enjoys tasting each word in this gravelly, deep voice that makes my knees quake and my heart flutter.”
I rested my hand to my chest, focusing on the tips of my heels. “It’s a hundred little things that I love. The way he remembers to order extra green curry for me, even though he hates it, or how he always keeps a spare sweatshirt in his car because he knows I’m always cold. He always lets me shower first because I prefer the temperature to be somewhere around magma. It’d be impossible to pick one thing when so many come to mind.”
“Wow. That reminds me of my late husband, Walter,” Pepper said, pressing her hand to one flushed cheek. “I can see how in love you are. It’s written all over your face. Come on, ladies. Time to refresh our drinks.”
I nodded, turning to follow them toward the bar, utterly terrified. Terrified because I hadn’t been describing some random stranger.
I’d been describing Miller.
Chapter 14
Having a crushwas way better than this weird, comfortable friendship Emma and I had going on. That was all this was—a crush, and here, on Crush Island, I got to live in my delusional world where everything was fluffy orgasms with sides of blowjobs. A simplistic idea that came from endorphins flooding the body after sappy conversations and peach-scented kisses.
Nothing changes.Right. I rolled my eyes, scrubbing my hand down my face as I remembered Magnum’s words from the other day at TriVolt. Everything had changed. My worldview had gone from a thimble-sized variety of activities to an entire ocean full of possibilities.The possibility of more.My brain was flooded with fantasies of what could be. Of lazy afternoons in a shared space, with a large rock on her left hand—our fingers entwined as I fucked into her slowly like I had all the time in the world.
I had to ask her out.
There were other thoughts, too. So many others. Of shared smiles between us where the wrinkles around our eyes stood out. Of her face when I walked in the door after a long day, rushing over to the couch to help her stand because her protruding belly was in the way. It was all those late-night fantasies you dared not speak out loud unless you were prepared to put them out into the universe.
It was all the things I never knew I wanted.
After all, wasn’t it better to live a life of remorse than regret?
I watched Emma from my spot on her couch as she opened a bottle of wine in the kitchen and chuckled as she tugged the cork too hard, then swore under her breath when it broke in half.
“Need any help, babe?” I called, tearing a piece of bread from the small Italian loaf that came with our takeout. I dipped the slice into the olive oil and spices and took a bite before opening her container with the eggplant sans cheese. She cradled the bottle under her arm and the glasses in her hands, and I stood, grabbing the wine and pouring generous servings into the long-stemmed goblets.
She smiled, settling on the couch beside me and reaching closer to squeeze my arm. I leaned into her touch like a cat in heat, unashamed to admit I’d take any touch she was willing to give. The longer I was subjected to her openly searching for a man whowasn’t me, the more desperate I became to grab her,shake her shoulders harshly, and scream for her to open her eyes.
Open her eyes and seeme.
Not that we’d ever had an actual conversation aboutus,but it was glaringly obvious that the possessive, dominant part of me wanted more. Who knew if we were even compatible beyond friendship and a fuck—but I had to see.
“Try this gnocchi,” I said, balancing the to-go container on my lap as I held my fork out to Emma. “I can’t decide if I like it or not.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she plucked the pasta from my fork, making a noise that could only be described as a vocal shrug. She chewed for a moment, tilting her head and making a face. Even like this, with her curls wild and her mascara smeared underneath her eyes, I wanted to kiss her. Claim her. Mark her beautiful body so everyone within a fifty-mile radius knew she was mine.
Damn. Rein it in.
“Too much pepper.”
“Exactly. Too much pepper and it’s somehow still bland. Let’s try for a different country the next time we order takeout.”
“Hm. Have the last bruschetta and quit complaining.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I’m only here to drink wine and listen to you lament about yet another date.”
“You forgot the obligatory man candy,” she said, pinching my side.
I hissed, batting her hand away and then plopping the fork back into the container.
“How silly of me, dearest. I’ll always be your man candy.” I fluttered my eyes and put my hand on my chest before I grabbed hers, threading our fingers together and squeezing.
“Damn right.” She sighed, pulling away and taking the container from my lap. She tucked her feet under her on thecouch and buried her face in my chest. “I’m so tired of all this dating bullshit, Miller. Can’t I just be done with it and marry you?”
Yes, please.
What? Dial back the desperation, dude.
