“I’m sure you don’t want to deal with this. It’s probably bringing up bad memories for you. I don’t want to fuck with your mental health. I should go. I just came here to tell you that it’s fine if you don’t want to hook up anymore. You don’t have to skip class to avoid me.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. What the hell is he talking about? “You think I don’t want to hook up with you anymore? Because believe me, I fucking do. It was hot, and I’ve done nothing but think about it ever since.”
He still looks skeptical. “Then where were you today?”
“I had an appointment for my physical. I had to go in for STI screenings and shit like that. You thought I didn’t go because Idon’t want you?” Jesus, this poor guy. Maybe I should still look at what’s happened since we’ve met as a red flag, but it’s fading, getting lighter by the moment. All I can think about is what must be going on inside him, what he’s been through to make him feel so bad about himself. “I want you,” I confirm. “I don’t play games like that. I’m honest with people. I would never bail on you without telling you how I feel. That’s not me.”
He looks almost…fuck, almost bashful. Or…insecure? Unsure? With some cockiness mixed in. He closes his eyes for a moment, then says, “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind? Because it’s probably better for you.”
“Pretty sure that’s up to me.” I smile, hoping it softens the words. “I mean, have you looked in the mirror? You’re really fucking hot, and I haven’t gotten the chance to try out your mouth yet. I’m looking forward to that.”
My body relaxes when Miles offers an unexpected chuckle. “It’s a good mouth.”
“I’m sure.” I grin.
I feel lucky to get to see this side of him, wonder how many people have seen it before. I don’t think many have, and that makes my whole body heavy with sadness.
“Your frat…?” he asks.
“Will get over it.”
We sit in silence, and I just let him sort out whatever’s going on inside his head. I think there’s a lot to untangle there, and maybe he’s right and I should run far away from that, but I don’t want to.
“Sorry for this, for losing it like that.”
“You don’t have to apologize…though you might have to help me fix the porch.”
He chuckles again, and damn do I like the sound of it. “I can handle that.”
I smile.
“What are you smiling at?”
Honestly? I don’t know. Clearly, I’ve been intrigued by him, and though I don’t have more answers yet, I like what I’m uncovering more and more. “You.”
“Have you met me?” He cracks a rare joke.
“Yes. I kinda like you.”
He sighs, and for a moment I wonder if I said something wrong, before Miles says the last thing I expect from him. “My mom died too.” My eyes widen. “I should have led into that better. I just wanted to say it before I talked myself out of it.”
It’s something we share, then—the pain of losing a mother, something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I realize how big this moment is, Miles sharing something so devastating with me, and I don’t want to say anything that might put him in even more pain.
“I’m sorry, Miles. Do you want to talk about it? Or about her?”
“Not right now. I just felt you should know that. That it might make you feel less alone. I appreciate your staying with me, talking me down, not making me feel like a total asshole for…well, being me.”
“You’re not an asshole.”
“Most people would disagree.”
“Most people are wrong,” I counter.
We sit there for a minute, on the bench together, just being.
A million questions batter me, particularly about how he lost his mom, but he’s already given me a lot today.
“You should stay tonight—for TaskFrat Challenge.”
