Ugly Love Page 59

My stomach is sick.

“Hello?” Miles says on the second ring. His voice sounds hesitant, like he’s unsure why I’m calling.

“Miles!” I say, both frantic and relieved. “Is he okay? Is Corbin okay?”

There’s a pause.

Why is there a pause?

“What do you mean?”

“A plane,” I say immediately. “My mom called. There was a plane crash. He’s not answering his phone.”

“Where are you?” he says quickly.

“The apartment.”

“Let me in.”

I walk to the door and unlock it. He pushes the door open and still has the phone to his ear. When he sees me, he pulls the phone away, immediately rushes to the couch, grabs the remote, and turns on the television.

He flips through the channels until he finds the TV news report. He dials numbers on his cell phone, then turns and rushes toward me. He takes my hand in his. “Come here,” he says, pulling me to him. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

I nod against his chest, but his reassurance is pointless.

“Gary?” he says when someone answers on the other end. “It’s Miles. Yeah. Yeah, I heard,” he says. “Who was the crew?”

There’s a long pause. I’m terrified to look at him. Terrified.

“Thank you.” He hangs up the phone. “He’s okay, Tate,” he says immediately. “Corbin’s fine. Ian, too.”

I break down into tears of relief.

Miles walks me to the couch and sits down, then pulls me to him. He takes my cell phone out of my hands and presses several buttons before putting the phone to his ear.

“Hey, it’s Miles. Corbin is fine.” He pauses for a few seconds. “Yeah, she’s fine. I’ll tell her to call you in the morning.” A few more seconds pass, and he says goodbye. He sets the phone on the couch beside him. “Your mom.”

I nod. I already knew.

And that simple gesture, him calling my mother, just made me fall for him even harder.

Now he’s kissing the top of my head, rubbing his hand up and down my arm reassuringly.

“Thank you, Miles,” I tell him.

He doesn’t say you’re welcome, because he doesn’t think he did anything that deserves thanking.

“Did you know them?” I ask. “The crew on board?”

“No. They were out of a different hub. The names didn’t sound familiar.”

My phone vibrates, so Miles hands it back to me. I look at it, and it’s a text from Corbin.

Corbin: In case you’ve heard about the plane, just want you to know I’m fine. I called headquarters, and Miles is, too. Please let Mom know if she hears about it. Love you.

Receiving his text fills me with even more relief, now that I know with one hundred percent certainty that he’s okay.

“It’s a text from Corbin,” I tell Miles. “He says you’re okay. In case you were worried.”

Miles laughs. “So he checked up on me?” he says with a grin. “I knew he couldn’t hate me forever.”

I smile. I love that Corbin wanted me to know that Miles was okay.

Miles continues to hold me, and I savor every second of it.

“When is he scheduled to come home?”

“Not for two more days,” I say. “How long have you been home?”

“About two minutes,” he says. “I had just plugged my phone in to charge when you called.”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t tell me he’s glad to be back. Instead of saying something that might give me false hope, he just kisses me.

“You know,” he says, pulling me onto his lap, “I hate the circumstances surrounding the reason you probably didn’t have time to put on pants, but I love that you don’t have on pants.” His hands slide up my thighs, and he pulls me closer until we’re flush together. He kisses the tip of my nose, then kisses my chin.

“Miles?” I run my hands through his hair and down his neck, then pause with them on his shoulders. “I was also scared it could have been you,” I whisper. “That’s why I’m glad you’re back.”

His eyes grow soft, and the worry lines between them disappear. I may not know anything about his past or his life, but I definitely notice that he hasn’t called anyone to let them know he’s okay. That makes me sad for him.

His eyes fall away from mine and land on my chest. He fingers the bottom edges of my shirt, then slowly pulls it over my head. I have nothing but a pair of panties on now.

He leans forward, wraps his arms around my back, and pulls me against his mouth. His lips close softly over my nipple, and my eyes shut involuntarily. Chills erupt over my skin as his hands begin to explore every bare part of my back and my thighs. His mouth works its way to my other breast, just as his hands slip inside my panties at my hips.

“I think I have to rip these off you, because I sure don’t want you to move off my lap,” he says.

I smile. “Fine with me. I have more where these came from.”

I can feel him grin against my skin as his hands pull at the elastic band of my underwear. He pulls on one side but fails to tear them. He tries ripping the other side to pull them off me, but nothing gives.

“You’re giving me a wedgie,” I say, laughing.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “It’s always so much sexier when they do this on TV.”

I readjust myself and sit up straighter. “Try it again,” I encourage. “You can do it, Miles.”

He grabs the left side of my panties and yanks them hard.

“Ouch!” I yell, scooting in the direction of his pull to lessen the pain of the elastic digging into my right side.

He laughs again and drops his face to my neck. “Sorry,” he says. “Got any scissors?”

I cringe at the thought of him coming at me with a pair of scissors. I scoot off of him and stand up, then pull my underwear down, kicking them off and away from me.

“Watching you do that was totally worth my failed attempt at being sexy,” he says.

I smile. “Your failed attempt at being sexy actually made you sexy.”

My comment makes him laugh again. I walk toward him and climb back onto his lap. He repositions me so that I’m straddling him again. “My failures are a turn-on for you?” he asks teasingly.