I give the crowd a fake smile, trying to play it off as if my heart isn’t about to burst, my mind all confused, and…all I want is Miles. To figure out what the hell is going on with him…with us…and to make sure Tatum knows he’s mine.
The two of them have fucked before. Miles told me about it, and I’m not the jealous type, but no one has ever gotten to me the way Miles does. No one gets me all mixed up or rattles me because no one has ever mattered like him before.
“Dude! What the fuck was that?” Teddy asks me.
“Holy shit. Miles fucking Tanner just bid a thousand dollars to date you!” Andy adds.
Yes, yes he did.
“First the hooking up, now this. Is there something more going on with the two of you?” Leo asks, and backstage is starting to feel claustrophobic.
I shake off his question, hoping they’ll leave me alone and not push me on it. I have zero interest in standing here and discussing all this with them, so I keep trying to work my way through the group of people, the sound from Troy onstage muffled yet somehow too loud.
“What’s up with you and my stepbro?” Damien asks, and the question makes me stumble.
“Brady?” Nothing is up with us. I don’t even know him well. “Nothing. It’s an auction, and he bid, same as Miles. I need some air.”
That just leads to them questioning me about Miles again.
It makes me irate that Miles didn’t even start that fire, yet people will forever hold it against him. Even if they knew the truth, I’m not sure if that will ever change. It’s like all some people want is to punish others and not give them the space to grow and change. How can anything get better if we hold his mistakes against him forever?
Thankfully, they let me go, and I head to the back door leading outside. I don’t know if that’s where Miles went, but I’m assuming it is.
I shove open the back door and rush outside, pulling a deep breath into my lungs.
It only takes me about three point five seconds to spot them—Miles and Tatum over by the back edge of the parking lot, which abuts a wooded area. Miles is pacing, and this protective instinct fills me, propelling me toward them. Miles doesn’t need me to protect him, especially not from Tatum, who’s been a good friend to him despite all his troubles, but again, I want to be the one with him. I want…more, and that’s a whole-ass mindfuck I don’t have time or care to dissect right now.
Miles bends over, hands on his knees, clearly trying to catch his breath. Tatum is close but not touching him, seems unsure what to do. I had some experience, so it was easier for me.
As if feeling me there before he can see me, Miles turns toward me, eyes locking with mine. The panicked expression is still there, like he’s trying not to freak out, to hold it together for Tatum.
“Hey,” I say with a smile, trying not to sound like I’m freaking out too. “You know, if you wanted to take me on a date, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck you,” he manages to get out, not angrily, but not fully like he’s playing either. No, that’s not right. It’s clear he’s trying to be light and playful but having a hard time pulling it off.
“Breathe with me, Miles. Deep breath in.” I press my palm to his cheek to give him some skin-to-skin contact, then breathe with him. Miles obeys, pulling air into his lungs. “Now deep breath out.” We exhale together. “What do you see?”
“You,” he says, and damned if my heart doesn’t shoot to the fucking sky.
“What do you smell?”
“You.”
“What do you feel?” I brush my finger against his cheek, my other hand finding a home on his hip.
“You.”
Without turning away from Miles, I tell Tatum, “I have this under control.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“I know, but we’re good,” I tell him, then to Miles, “Breathe with me again. Focus on me.”
He nods, his features beginning to relax as I keep contact with him, the two of us breathing in sync.
Tatum stands there for a moment—surprised? Maybe protective of his friend?—but then I hear footsteps receding.
“That’s it. We got this.” I lead Miles to one of the curb stops at the head of a parking spot, and we sit down on it together.
