He nods, thumb digging into the side of his mug. “Yeah. First time no one’s asked me about him since he died last fall. They were all more interested in my chivalry.”
Miller looks up with a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
I roll mine, and he lets out a real laugh.
“My publicist thinks ...” he starts but his shoulders pull back with a jerk of his head. “Never mind.”
“What?” I ask.
“She wanted me to ... I don’t know. Talk to you. Take photos with you at the events.” He rushes to finish when my eyes sharpen. “I’m—I want—I asked for a trade, and, uh ... I’m not ... it doesn’t look good. Press only ask about him and it’s ... messy. She thought people might, uh, leave me alone about him if I gave them something else to talk about.”
I blink, another laugh that ends with a snort starts before I can stop it, and the embarrassment burns across my cheeks.
Miller’s eyes cut to my mouth, and the corner of his slants upwards, like he might actually enjoy the sound.
But I can hear another voice, see another pair of eyes that harden with that same embarrassment I feel on my skin at the exact same sound, and I start shaking my head. “Sorry. If that’s why you came here today, I’m not ... interested in some sort of staged ... whatever.”
And I’m not. It sounds like one of Imani’s romance novels. But more than that—I see those phantom eyes hardening, and I hear the voice that would drip with cruel amusement.
I hear what it would tell me all these years later. How even if I was playing pretend with someone, they’d learn the truth about me after all. I want too much and not enough at the same time, and I’m not the type of person you choose to be with, not really. I’m the person with no ambition and drive and only these silly little things I like as I play a caricature of myself. That it’s not the shining light of a personality, it’s all these insecurities I really need to set a dimmer on bleeding through.
I try so hard for those old words not to catch.
“No.” Miller takes his hat off, raking a hand through his hair. He tugs on the ends. “I wasn’t sure why I came but ... I meant it. The thank you. That’s all. No strings.”
“Okay.” I nod quietly.
“It was just ... like I said. Nice to be asked about something other than him.”
I don’t miss the way he’s stopped using Matt’s name. How he seems like he might suffocate on the word and the weight of all the water pressing down on him. Like he’ll do anything to avoid saying it, and cling to any piece of refuse or debris that floats on by.
It would be a shame. For someone with eyes like that to get pulled under by whatever lives behind them.
“But we could be friendly.” I offer with a small smile. “At the fundraising gala, and any other events. I don’t mind.”
“Friendly?” His mouth turns down, like he’s never heard of the concept.
“Friendly,” I tell him, leaning forward on a soft laugh. “Two people who are kind and cordial with one another. They say hello and talk about their days.” Wrinkling my nose, I throw out another lifeboat, so he doesn’t drown. “They don’t talk aboutthings that are off-limits and covered in strings. They’re just ... polite.”
This new sort of grin tips his full lips up, and something, maybe a star that lives in the sky but it’s so bright it reflects off the ocean, winks to life behind his eyes. “What kind of things do they talk about?”
“Whatever they want.” I lift a shoulder.
His voice drops, rough and dragging over my skin like worn, strong hands. “About ... adult things?”
I give him a flat look. “Adult things?”
“Yeah. Adult things.” He nods, the grin tugging to the left side now. The lines of his jaw sharpen; his eyes darken but that light still lives somewhere behind them, like it’s wide awake now and has no plans on going to sleep any time soon. “Like how dinosaurs and fossils aren’t just for kids.”
My head tips back in laughter, and I don’t even mind the snort. Especially not with his eyes roving across my face the way they do, settling on my mouth, when he hears it.
“Sure, then. Adult things.” I try to give him a serious look, even though a blush rises on my cheeks.
“Okay.” His eyes leave my bottom lip, and he smiles through a nod. “That sounds nice.”
He reaches his hand out, and I meet it with mine.
I don’t think I imagine it this time, the way his thumb whispers across my skin.
