“Nothing.”
“So . . .”
“Sowhat?” I snap again.
“Hen, I’m asking what happened with Story,” he replies, slowly and deliberately. “Are you two together now, or what?”
I shake my head because we’re not. Not even close. “It’s something we need to figure out.” I push my cap up and give my head a good scratch, which is followed by a yawn. “It’s hard, though.”
Maybe the reason I’m in such a bad mood is because I haven’t properly slept in days. Too many complications are going through my head at once. The exact reason I wanted to wait with Story. She deserves more than a half-present and distracted partner.
Miles stays silent, probably so I don’t snap at whatever he suggests. He waits for me to speak.
“As much as I wanted it, I thought it would be weird with Story and change our relationship so drastically. But it felt so normal, like it was always meant to be this way. However, I still need to take my time with her because of Max.”
Miles nods gravely, like he knows what it’s like to be in a relationship, the concept of which has me grinning.
“You don’t want to introduce Miss MacIntosh as Daddy’s new girlfriend just yet.”
“Exactly, he’s never seen me with anyone.”
“But. . . you still want the sex, and Story lives with her parents. You can’t have her sleep over at Burlington because of Max, so you’re a bit fucked. Or not—” He snorts.
I watch my brother and the gears turning in hishead. The moment sex is involved in any problem, he becomes a savant.
“It’s not solely about the sex, but also yes,” I admit, even if I’m loath to.
I haven’t had sex for months. I haven’t hadgoodsex for . . . well, compared to the experience with Story . . . maybe I’ve never had good sex. Mind-blowing, toe-curling sex. Something between us clicked that night, and ninety-five percent of my thoughts over the past two days have been about when we can do it again.
“What was it like?” Miles holds his hands up, right before I tell him to mind his own fucking business. “Actually, you know what? I don’t want to know.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you.”
His mouth drops, and his brows shoot up. “That good?” His hands wave again. “Nope. Please don’t answer.” He lets out an exaggerated shudder. “Bleugh.”
I amnotgoing to ask what that’s about.
“But”—he snaps his fingers—“you need a hookup venue.”
“Milo—”
“I’m serious. Otherwise, how are you going to get down to it? It’s not healthy to be celibate at our age, Hen. Sex adds years to your life, and I really don’t want you to die before me. No one else puts up with my crap like you do.”
Staring at Miles, at how serious he is, a smile stretches across my face, and then I burst out laughing. I don’t know why I find it funny because it’s not, but I can’t help it. I’m barreled over, wheezing so hard I can’t breathe. It’s the first time I’ve laughed all day. It’s the first time I’ve laughed likethisin weeks.
I wipe the moisture from my eyes. “So I’m doing this to live longer and to put up with your crap?”
“Yup.” He nods. “I have it. Use Bluebell.”
“What?”
“It’s empty. Holiday doesn’t live there anymore since she’s at Burlington. No one uses it.”
I clap a hand on Miles’s shoulder and pull him in for a hug. It’s rare, but sometimes my brother is a genius. “You’re right.”
“When it comes to sex, I’m never wrong.”
Opening the Land Rover boot, I toss in my bag. “D’you want a lift somewhere? I’m heading over to the stable yard.”
