Sure. Miller really did those things.
I scoffed, closing my eyes and turning my head toward his neck, where his scent was the strongest. His fingers trailed down my arms and wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. The anger I felt for his thoughtless comments fizzled to nothing as I breathed.
Regardless of the gaping chasm of unsaid things—he was here. The beat of his heart thumped along with mine as we stood there, suspended in time.
This meant something, right? Maybe he’d dazzle me throughout the night with his knowledge of wine, and Hopkirk would be so impressed he’d invite him to play a round of golfin the coming weeks while I played pickleball with some new girlfriend. Hopkirk would apologize for calling Miller an ingrate. I’d get my promotion, and then we’d ride off into the sunset together on matching unicorns with rainbow horns and hooves made of Skittles.
That was a completely logical line of thinking.
His arms left my waist and returned to my shoulders, nuzzling me until I removed my head from that spot it seemed to belong in, and met his eyes. They glinted like two coals, burning brighter the longer I looked.
“I couldn’t leave things the way they were, Em. So, why wouldn’t I be here? I had to sweet talk Mrs. Bella at the front desk, but once I promised her a delivery from that bakery she loves, she was more than happy to share the details of where you’d be tonight.”
He was here—showing methat my life mattered. That he understood the importance of getting that promotion—of course, that was before I ruined the opportunity.
“Um. As much as I’d love to stand here all night watching your eye twitch, you might want to dial down whatever you have going on up there before I formally meet your boss. You have to admit, I look pretty dapper tonight.”
He straightened his bowtie and then tapped my temple. I jerked away, shaking my head like I was surfacing after diving ten feet down into the bottom of a swimming pool. I couldn’t deal with this—couldn’t deal with him. Not now. Not when there were so many things left unsaid.
“Please, Emma.” There was a hand on my arm—gentler than I expected, but I tried to shrug it off and suppress a gasp at how good it felt to be touched. “Let me talk.”
“I can’t do this right now.” Turning, I stepped back inside the threshold of the ballroom, letting the air conditioning cool my overheated skin. The nearest exit loomed toward the left, and Istared at it like it was my salvation. Perhaps it was—an invitation to leave and start over tomorrow.
“No,” he said, the word harsh as I moved to an unoccupied space by the bar to avoid causing a scene. My gaze darted around us, and I let out a breath of relief when I saw no one had given us a second glance.
“No?” It was a question—a demand for explanation. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, and he tugged me toward the windows, partway behind another column. The exit sign disappeared from my line of sight, and I took two steps to the right, pressing my hand to my chest so I could see it again.
“No. I’m here because what’s important to you is important to me. I never should have—”
“Miss James? I was hoping we’d have the opportunity for a chat this evening. Especially after the way we left things this morning.”
Oh, no.
Miller gently dragged his thumb against my skin. Then he released my arm and shoved one hand in his pocket, spinning on his heel to face Headmaster John Hopkirk.
“John,” he said, extending his opposite hand and standing close enough for our shoulders to touch. “It’s good to see you again. We never had an official introduction the other night. Miller Hansen.”
I watched him from the corner of my eye, an insincere smile on my face as Hopkirk glanced between his hand and me before extending his own. They shook firmly and friendly—sort of. A vein throbbed in Miller’s forehead, and Hopkirk’s knuckles were white.
“Ah. Miller. Pleasure, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Of course,” he chuckled, letting the slight dig slide off his back. “That’s to be expected after my attire the other night. Butyou know how it is.” He leaned closer with Hopkirk’s hand still dwarfed in his and lowered his voice. “Once your priorities are sorted out, you realize being here when someone needs you is better than petty things like clothes. Right?”
Their handshake broke, and the headmaster took a step back, running one hand along his jaw and removing his pocket watch from his vest with the other. As he stared at the silver timepiece, I held my breath like I was awaiting my execution.
“Well said, Mr. Hansen. In fact, I was just mulling over the gumption our young Miss James has. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Perhaps. Passion is a better choice, sir. Or loyalty.”
“Spunk?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Miller said, leaning closer like he and Hopkirk were in on some big secret and not a pissing contest.
Miller would win that contest, hands down.
“I’m rather lucky, aren’t I?”
My gaze jerked to his, and one side of his mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. He winked at me, causing my teeth to dig painfully into my cheek as a blush crept across my chest and toward my neck.
