He looks set to implode, standing here in his hallway. Such an ordinary place for one of the most extraordinary moments of my life.
I feel it is . . .
“If you stay here, we’re likely to start a fire,” he rumbles, his hands curling around my jawline.
Fire sounds nice . . .
I could go out under the fire this man brings.
Dotting a kiss to my forehead, he drops his hands, sliding his fingers through mine. I’m led to the living room before Petal pushes her way between us.
I chuckle and bend down to love her up. Still dazed from the kiss that blew my mind, I’m at a loss for functional reasoning at the moment. I’m a whirring, idling mess of wanting to stay and knowing we should take this slow.
So, so slow.
“Let me take you home, beautiful.” I rise from showering my girl with love, and Miles wraps himself around me from behind.
“I can walk home,” I utter, laying my head back on his shoulder.
“I know, but humor me. I’m a selfish man when it comes to you, London Tennison.”
“It’s been like five minutes.” I huff a laugh, running my gaze over his neck and the angles of his jaw I want to explore...
“I intend on dragging this moment out as long as I can, so you’re riding with me.”
Riding? I swallow past the emotion closing my throat over.
“Miles, I—I need to take this slow.”
“Slow it is.”
Gathering our belongings, we step out into the corridor of the building, but instead of heading for the stairwell, we take the rarely used elevator to the basement.
“Okay, is this the part where you murder me in the dark?” I push out a nervous laugh.
Miles hits a switch by the steel door we walked through. The basement garage lights up, and a handful of cars sit parked in the claustrophobic space.
He takes my hand and leads me past them all. We reach the back of the space, and a black road bike stands leaning on the kickstand. Two helmets hang from the handlebars.
“Um, when you said ride, you actually meantride?” I say.
“Yeah.” He slides a helmet off the handlebar and passes it to me.
“Miles.”
“I got you, beautiful. Besides, it’s quicker than walking home, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” I whisper, rubbing my hands over my arms.
I’m torn between staying in this man’s orbit and not getting on the damn bike. Not going home and this evening being over before it’s only just begun.
“Good.” He swings a leg over and starts the bike. Reaching back, he flips the lid on a small compartment behind the seat and pulls out a black motorcycle jacket. “Here, so you don’t get cold.”
I shove the helmet on my head and tighten the chin strap before shrugging the jacket on. I have to roll up the sleeves to find my hands, it swims on me. He holds out a hand. “Come on, you can hold onto me. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
If anyone else had said that to me, I’d laugh in their face. Coming from Miles...
I swing my leg over and slide forward until my chest meets his back.
