I burst out laughing. “Come on.”
After the botanical gardens, we go home to cool off in my poor excuse of an AC for a while. The lemonade he’d bought is the ultimate refreshment after walking around in the sun.
We lie on the bed for a couple hours talking, tracing each other’s arms. Miles is definitely turned on, but he seems content just being together too. I’m glad. Because even though the will is there, the desire is not.
I kiss him. “We should probably get up. I owe you a date.”
Miles grins. “You don’toweme anything, but you are welcome to take me out and spoil me if you’d like.”
“Is that so?” I can’t help but snicker. “Like being spoiled, do you?”
“Maybe. Where are we going?”
“Oh, don’t you worry.” I pull him close and kiss him. “I have something in mind.” A very specific plan, actually. But pulling it off would be tricky. “If I asked you to stay in here for twenty minutes enjoying the cool air, would you do that for me?”
He looks at me comically. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.” He chuckles but doesn’t pull away, so I kiss him again. “Please?”
“Fine. But only if Clematis stays in here with me. We still have to bond and all that.”
I look at my cat. “She might murder you.”
“She won’t.”
“She might.”
“Leave her.”
“Okay. Your life.” I shrug, then roll out of bed. “Twenty minutes, tops.”
I close the door and get to work making us some cold cut sandwiches. It might be cheating, using the food Miles bought for me, but hey. He’ll forgive me once he sees what I have in mind.
My palms are sweaty as I close the cooler and take it to the car. I feel like I’m seventeen on prom night, which is silly. We’ve already had our hands all over each other.
Emotionally, though? This feels worse than being naked. I am completely exposed now after revealing my deepest secret, but not in a bad way. Miles had listened and accepted it. He’d held it close and still leaned in, when the truth is, I expected him to pull away. Or at the very least, I expected the sadness to linger after our conversation, but it hadn’t.
The moment we started walking again after that conversation, Miles changed the subject to something lighter and we slipped back into casual fun. By the time we reached the car, he had me laughing so hard my side hurt.
And he wasn’t even trying. That’s the thing. I know he’s not tiptoeing around me ortryingto lift me up. He’s just being himself.
Once everything is loaded, I return to the bedroom, pausing when I see Clematis at the edge of the bed, way out of Miles’ reach. He’s on his side, talking to her and tapping the comforter with his fingers.
It’s unbelievably cute.
“Ready?”
Clematis bolts as soon as she realizes the door is open.
“Ugh, I almost had her,” Miles says.
We change into jeans, much to Miles’ annoyance, then we each grab a sweatshirt. “Are you sure we’re going to need this? It’s eighty degrees out,” he mumbles.
Grabbing his hand, we head out the door.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
I look over at him. “Don’t you trust me?”
