conversation today. I dont want this day to become his defense
for what he did to my mother.
Its fine, Dad. Well discuss it another time.
He tells me no. He says he needs to discuss it with me now.
He tells me its important.
I want to tell him its not important.
I want to tell him Clayton is important.
I want to focus on Clayton and Rachel and forget all about the
fact that my father is human and makes awful choices like the
rest of us.
But I dont say any of that.
I listen.
Because hes my father.
Chapter twenty-nine
TATE
Miles: What are you doing?
Me: Homework.
Miles: Feel like taking a swim break?
Me: ??? Its February.
Miles: The rooftop pool is heated. It doesnt close for another hour.
I stare at the text, then immediately look up at Corbin. Theres a rooftop pool here?
Corbin nods his head but doesnt look away from the TV. Yep.
I sit up straight. Are you kidding me? Ive lived here this long, and you fail to tell me theres a heated rooftop pool?
He faces me now and shrugs. I hate pools.
Ugh. I could slap him.
Me: Corbin never mentioned there was a pool. Let me change, and Ill head over there.
Miles: ;)
I realize I forgot to knock as soon as I close the door to his apartment. I always knock. I guess my mentioning in a text that I was coming over after I changed seemed good enough to me, but the way Miles is staring at me from the doorway of his bedroom makes me think he doesnt like the fact that I didnt knock.
I pause in his living room and look at him, waiting to see what mood hes in today.
Youre in a bikini, he says pointedly.
I look down at my attire. And shorts, I say defensively. I look back up at him. What are people supposed to wear when they swim in February?
Hes still standing frozen in his doorway, staring at my attire. I fold my towel across my arms and over my stomach. I suddenly feel extremely awkward and underdressed.
He shakes his head and finally begins moving toward me. I just … Hes still staring at my bikini. I hope no one is up there, because if youre wearing that bikini, these swim shorts are going to be really embarrassing. He looks down at his shorts. At the obvious bulge in them.
I laugh. So he actually likes the bikini.
He takes another step forward and slides his hands around to the back of my shorts, then pulls me against him. I changed my mind, he says with a grin. I want to stay here.
I immediately shake my head. Im going swimming, I say. You can stay here if you want, but youll be alone.
He kisses me, then backs me toward his apartment door. Then I guess Im going swimming, he says.
Miles enters the passcode for rooftop access, then opens the door for me. Im relieved to see that no one else is out here, and I am taken by how breathtakingly beautiful it is. Its an infinity pool, overlooking the city, and its lined with patio chairs, all the way to the opposite end, where its capped off with an attached hot tub.
I cant believe neither of you thought to mention this before now, I say. All these months, and Ive been missing out.
Miles takes my towel and lays it on one of the tables surrounding the pool. He walks back over to me and drops his hands to the button on my shorts. This is actually the first time Ive ever been out here. He unzips my shorts and pushes them over my hips. His lips are close to mine, and his expression is playful. Come on, he whispers. Lets get wet.
I kick off the shorts at the same time as he takes off his shirt. The air is incredibly cold, but the steam rising from the water is promising. I walk to the shallow end to descend the steps, but Miles dives headfirst into the deep end of the pool. I step in, and my feet are swallowed up in the warmth of the water, so I quickly step in the rest of the way. I make my way toward the middle of the pool and walk to the edge, then rest my arms on the concrete ledge looking out over the city.
Miles swims up behind me and cages me in by pressing his chest against my back and placing his hands on either side of the ledge. He rests his head against mine as we both take in the view.
Its beautiful, I whisper.
Hes quiet.
We watch the city in silence for what seems like forever. Every now and then, hell cup his hands and bring water up to my shoulders to warm my chills away.
Have you always lived in San Francisco? I ask him. I turn so that my back is against the ledge now and Im facing him. He keeps his arms on either side of me and nods.
Close to it, he says, still looking at the city over my shoulder.
I want to ask him where, but I dont. I can tell by his body language that he doesnt want to talk about himself. He never wants to talk about himself.
Are you an only child? I ask, trying to see what I can get away with. Any brothers or sisters?
He looks me in the eyes now. His lips are pressed into a firm, agitated line. What are you doing, Tate? He doesnt ask it in a rude way, but theres no other way his question can come across.
Just making conversation, I say. My voice is soft and sounds offended.
I can think of a lot more things Id rather talk about than myself.
But thats all I want to know about, Miles.
I nod, understanding that although Im technically not breaking his rules, Im bending them. He doesnt feel comfortable with that.
I turn around and face the ledge again. Hes still in the same position, pressed against me, but its different now. Hes stiff. Guarded. Defensive.
I dont know anything about him. I dont know a single thing about his family, and hes already met mine. I dont know a single thing about his past, but hes slept in my childhood bed. I dont know what subjects I bring up or what actions I take that will cause him to close off, but Ive got nothing to hide from him.