Ugly Love Page 20

Tears. Miles has tears he’s laughing so hard.

It’s beautiful.

I feel bad for Corbin. He’s kind of embarrassed. I do like how Miles thinks it’s funny, though. I like that it didn’t embarrass him.

“Three years?” my dad says, still stuck on the same thought I’m still kind of stuck on.

“That was three years ago,” Corbin says, finally laughing along with Miles. “It’s probably been six by now.”

The table slowly grows quiet. This embarrasses Miles.

I keep thinking about that kiss in the bathroom earlier and how I know for a fact it hasn’t been six years since he’s been with a girl. A guy with a mouth as possessive as that one knows how to use it, and I’m sure it gets used a lot.

I don’t want to think about it.

I don’t want my family thinking about it.

“You’re bleeding again,” I say, looking down at the blood-soaked gauze that’s still wrapped around his hand. I turn to my mother. “Do you have any liquid bandage?”

“No,” she says. “That stuff scares me.”

I look at Miles. “After we eat, I’ll check it,” I say.

Miles nods but never looks at me. My mother asks me about work, and Miles is no longer the center of attention. I think he’s relieved about that.

I turn off my light and crawl into bed, not sure what to make of today. We never spoke again after dinner, even though I spent a good ten minutes redressing his wound in the living room.

We didn’t speak through the entire process. Our legs didn’t touch. His finger didn’t touch my knee. He didn’t even look up at me. He just watched his hand the entire time, focused on it like it would fall off if he looked away.

I don’t know what to think about Miles or that kiss. He’s obviously attracted to me, or he wouldn’t have kissed me. Sadly, that’s enough for me. I don’t even care if he likes me. I just want him to be attracted to me, because the liking can come later.

I close my eyes and try to fall asleep for the fifth time, but it’s pointless. I roll onto my side and face the door just in time to see the shadow of someone’s feet approach it. I watch the door, waiting for it to open, but the shadows disappear, and footsteps continue down the hall. I’m almost positive that was Miles but only because he’s the only person on my mind right now. I release a few controlled breaths in order to calm myself down enough to decide whether I want to follow him. I’m only on the third breath when I hop out of bed.

I debate brushing my teeth again, but it’s only been twenty minutes since I last brushed them.

I check my hair in the mirror, then open my bedroom door and walk as quietly as I can into the kitchen.

When I round the corner, I see him. All of him. He’s leaning against the bar, facing me, almost like he was expecting me.

God, I hate that.

I pretend it’s just a coincidence that we ended up here at the same time, even though it’s midnight. “Can’t sleep?” I walk past him to the refrigerator and reach for the orange juice. I take it out, pour myself a glass, then lean against the counter across from him. He’s watching me, but he doesn’t answer my question.

“Are you sleepwalking?”

He smiles, soaking me up from head to toe with his eyes like a sponge. “You really love orange juice,” he says, amused.

I look down at my glass, then back up to him, and shrug. He takes a step toward me and motions for the glass. I hand it to him, and he brings it to his lips, takes a slow sip, and hands it back to me. All these movements are completed without his ever breaking eye contact with me.

Well, I definitely love orange juice now.

“I love it, too,” he says, even though I never answered him.

I set the glass down beside me, grip the edges of the counter, and push myself up until I’m seated on it. I pretend he isn’t invading my entire being, but he’s still everywhere. Filling the kitchen.

The entire house.

It’s way too quiet. I decide to make the first move.

“Has it really been six years since you’ve had a girlfriend?”

He nods without hesitation, and I’m both shocked and extremely pleased by that answer. I’m not sure why I like it. I guess it’s just so much better than what I was imagining his life was like.

“Wow. Have you at least …” I don’t know how to finish this sentence.

“Had sex?” he interjects.

I’m glad the only light on is the one over the kitchen stove, because I’m absolutely blushing right now.

“Not everyone wants the same things out of life,” he says. His voice is soft, like a down comforter. I want to roll around in it, wrap myself up in that voice.

“Everyone wants love,” I say. “Or at least sex. It’s human nature.”

I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

He folds his arms across his chest. His feet cross at the ankles. I’ve noticed this is his form of personal armor. He’s putting up his invisible shield again, guarding himself from giving too much away.

“Most people can’t have one without the other,” he says. “So I find it easier to just give up both.” He’s studying me, gauging my reaction to his words. I do my best not to give him one.

“So which of the two do you not want, Miles?” My voice is embarrassingly weak. “Love or sex?”

His eyes remain the same, but his mouth changes. His lips curl up into a barely there smile. “I think you already know the answer to that, Tate.”

Wow.

I blow out a controlled breath, not even caring if he knows those words affected me like they did. The way he says my name makes me feel just as flustered as his kiss did. I cross my legs at the knees, hoping he doesn’t notice it’s my own personal armor.

His eyes drop to my legs, and I watch him softly inhale.

Six years. Unbelievable.

I look down at my legs, too. I want to ask him another question, but I can’t look at him when I ask it. “How long has it been since you kissed a girl?”