When I kissed all the other girls, I felt pleasure. Thats why
people enjoy kissing, because it feels good.
But when you like to kiss someone because of who she is, the
difference isnt found in the pleasure.
The difference is found in the pain you feel when youre not
kissing her.
It doesnt hurt when Im not kissing any of the other girls Ive
kissed.
It only hurts when Im not kissing Rachel.
Maybe this explains why falling in love is so damn painful.
I like kissing you, Rachel.
Chapter fifteen
TATE
Miles: Are you busy?
Me: Always busy. Whats up?
Miles: I need your help. Wont take long.
Me: Be there in five.
I should have given myself ten minutes rather than five, because I havent had a shower today. After a ten-hour shift last night, Im sure I need one. If I knew he was home, a shower would have been my top priority, but I thought he wasnt due back until tomorrow.
I pull my hair up into a loose bun and change from my pajama bottoms into a pair of jeans. Its not quite noon yet, but Im embarrassed to admit I was still in bed.
He yells for me to come in after I knock on his door, so I push it open. Hes standing on a chair next to one of the living-room windows. He glances down at me, then nods his head toward a chair.
Grab that chair and push it right there, he says, pointing to a spot a few feet away from him. Im trying to measure these, but Ive never bought curtains before. I dont know if Im supposed to measure the outside frame or the actual window itself.
Well, Ill be damned. Hes buying curtains.
I scoot the chair to the other side of the window and climb up onto it. He hands me one end of the measuring tape and begins to pull.
It all depends on what kind of curtains you want, so Id get measurements for both, I suggest.
Hes dressed casually again in a pair of jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. Somehow the dark blue in his shirt make his eyes look less blue. It makes them look clear. See-through, almost, but I know thats impossible. His eyes are anything but see-through with that wall he keeps up behind them.
He enters the measurement into his phone, and then we take a second measurement. Once hes got both entered into his phone, we step down and push the chairs back under the table.
What about a rug? he asks, staring at the floor beneath the table. You think I should get a rug?
I shrug. Depends on what you like.
He nods his head slowly, still staring down at the bare floor.
I dont know what I like anymore, he says quietly. He tosses the tape measure onto the couch and looks at me. You want to come?
I refrain from immediately nodding. Where to?
He brushes his hair off his forehead and reaches for his jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Wherever people buy curtains.
I should say no. Picking out curtains is something couples do. Picking out curtains is something friends do. Picking out curtains is not something Miles and Tate should do if they want to stick to their rules, but I absolutely, positively, most definitely dont want to do anything else.
I shrug to make my answer appear much more casual than it is. Sure. Let me lock my door.
Whats your favorite color? I ask him once were on the elevator. Im trying to stay focused on the task at hand, but I cant deny the desire I have for him to reach out and touch me. A kiss, a hug … anything. Were standing on opposite sides of the elevator, though. We havent touched since the night we first had sex. We havent even spoken or texted since then, either.
Black? he says, unsure of his own answer. I like black.
I shake my head. You cant decorate with black curtains. You need color. Maybe something close to black but not black.
Navy? he asks. I notice his eyes arent focused on mine anymore. His eyes are scrolling slowly from my neck all the way down to my feet. Everywhere his eyes focus, I can feel it.
Navy might work, I say quietly. Im pretty sure this conversation is only taking place for the sake of having conversation. I can see by the way hes looking at me that neither of us is thinking about colors or curtains or rugs right now.
Do you have to work tonight, Tate?
I nod. I like that hes thinking about tonight, and I love how he ends most of his questions with my name. I love how he says my name. I should require him to say my name every time he speaks to me. I dont have to be in until ten.
The elevator reaches the bottom floor, and we both move to the doors at the same time. His hand connects with the small of my back, and the current that moves through me is undeniable. Ive had crushes on guys before, hell, Ive even been in love with guys before, but none of their touches have ever been able to make me respond the way his do.
As soon as I step off the elevator, his hand leaves my back. Im more aware of the absence of his touch now than before he even touched me. Each little bit I get, I crave it that much more.
Cap isnt in his usual spot. Thats not surprising, though, considering its only noon. Hes not much of a morning person. Maybe thats why we get along so well.
You feel like walking? Miles asks.
I tell him yes, despite the fact that its cold out. I prefer walking, and were near several stores that would work for what hes looking for. I suggest a store I passed a couple of weeks ago thats only two blocks from where we are.
After you, he says, holding the door open for me. I step outside and pull my coat a little tighter around me. I highly doubt Miles is the type of guy who holds hands in public, so I dont even worry about making my hands available to him. I hug myself to keep warm, and we begin walking side-by-side.