Ugly Love Page 44
Author: Colleen Hoover

Now he knows exactly how much I’m not Tate when I’m near him. I’m only liquid. Conforming. Doing what he asks, doing what I’m told, doing what he wants me to do.

“Oh,” I say quietly as I watch him ease away from me. “That makes a lot more sense.”

He’s still smiling, and I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing that smile. He should smile all the time. Forever. At me.

He walks out of the kitchen and heads back to the living room, so I go to my room and shower in record time.

I didn’t realize I was such a good actress.

I had practice, though. Five minutes of practice. I stood in my room, trying to think of the best, most casual line for when I walked into the living room to ask Miles for his key. I decided to wait until a particularly loud moment during the game, and then I burst out of the room and yelled at all of them.

“You guys either need to mute the damn TV or go watch it next door, because I’m trying to study!”

Miles looked at me and tried to hide his smile. Ian looked at me with suspicion, and Corbin rolled his eyes. “You go next door,” Corbin said. “We’re watching the game.” He looked at Miles. “She can use your place, right?”

Miles stood up immediately and said, “Sure. I’ll let her in.”

I grabbed my things, followed him out of my apartment, and now here we are.

Miles opens his apartment door for me, even though it isn’t locked. Corbin doesn’t know that, though. He walks inside, and I slip in behind him. He shuts the door, and we turn and face each other.

“I really do have homework,” I say. I don’t know what he’s expecting to happen right this second, but I feel like I need to let him know that just because he shows up after a few days away, that doesn’t mean he’s my number one priority.

Even though he pretty much is.

“I really do have a game to watch,” he says, pointing over his shoulder at my apartment but walking toward me at the same time. He takes my books out of my hands and walks with them to the table, where he sets them down. He starts walking back toward me and doesn’t stop until his lips are pressed to mine and we can’t walk any farther because my back is against the apartment door.

His hands are gripping my waist, and mine are gripping his shoulders. His tongue slides between my lips and into my mouth, and I take it, very willingly. He groans and presses himself against me as my hands slide up his neck and through his hair. He pulls away just as fast and steps back several feet.

He’s looking at me like it’s somehow my fault that he has to leave. He runs two frustrated palms down his face and releases a deep breath. “You didn’t get to eat earlier,” he says. “I’ll bring you some pizza.” He walks back toward me, and I step aside without responding. He opens the door and disappears.

He’s so weird.

I walk to the table and begin to lay everything out that I need in order to study. I’m pulling out my chair to sit when his apartment door flies open again. I turn around, and he’s walking toward the kitchen with a plate in his hands. He puts the pizza in his microwave, presses a few buttons and starts it, and then heads straight toward me. He’s doing that intimidating thing again that makes me naturally back away from him, but his table is behind me, and I can’t go anywhere.

He reaches me and quickly presses his lips to mine. “I have to go back over there,” he says. “You good?”

I nod.

“You need anything?”

I shake my head.

“There’s juice and bottled water in the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

He kisses me briefly again before he releases me and walks out the door.

I fall into my chair.

He’s so nice.

I could get used to this.

I pull my notebook in front of me and begin studying. About half an hour passes, and then I get a text from him.

Miles: How’s the homework going?

I’m reading the text on my phone, smiling like an idiot. He goes nine days without seeing or texting me, and now he’s texting me from twenty feet away.

Me: Good. How’s the game going?

Miles: Halftime. We’re losing.

Me: Bummer.

Miles: You knew I didn’t have cable.

Me: ???

Miles: Earlier, when you yelled at us. You told us to go to my place to watch the game, but you already knew I didn’t have cable. I think Ian’s suspicious now.

Me: Oh, no. I didn’t think about that.

Miles: It’s cool. He’s just giving me looks, like he knows something is up. Honestly, I don’t care if he knows. He knows everything else about me.

Me: I’m surprised you didn’t tell him already. Don’t all guys kiss and tell?

Miles: Not me, Tate.

Me: I guess you’re the exception. Now leave me alone, I have to study.

Miles: Don’t come back until I come tell you the game is over.

I lay my phone down on the table, unable to wipe the grin from my face.

An hour later, the door to his apartment opens. I look up, and he walks in, shuts the door, and casually falls against it. “Game’s over,” he says.

I drop my pen. “Perfect timing. I just finished my homework.”

His eyes fall to my books, spread out across the table. “Corbin’s probably expecting you.”

I don’t know if that’s his way of telling me I should leave or if he’s just making conversation. I stand up anyway and begin to gather my books, attempting to hide the disappointment on my face.

He walks straight to me and takes the books out of my hands, setting them back down. He gives them a shove, sliding them a foot away, and then he grabs my waist and pushes me onto the table.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to leave,” he says firmly, looking me hard in the eyes.

I don’t smile this time, because he just made me nervous again. Every time he looks at me with this much intensity, I get nervous.

He slides me to the very edge of the table and stands between my legs. His hands are still on my waist, but his lips are now on my jaw. “I was thinking,” he says softly, his breath caressing my neck, covering me in chills. “About tonight and how you’ve been in class all day.” He slides his hands beneath me, lifting me off the table. “And how you work all weekend, every weekend.” My legs are wrapped around him now. He’s carrying me to his bedroom.