Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I will.”
I drop my hands from her, then look up at Miles. “Thanks for letting me steal your bed.”
“Any time.” He sets down his coffee and walks with me toward the door. “I should be home by dinner this evening, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Sounds good.” I stop and put on my coat, while asking, “How did things go last night?”
“We might have got a lead.”
“That’s good, right?”
“We’ll see.” He grabs my bag, then looks to where Winter is still shoveling pancakes into her mouth. “I’m going to walk Em downstairs, okay? I’ll be right back. When you finish eating, get dressed.”
“Okay, Dad,” she says.
“You don’t need to do that,” I tell him, but of course he ignores me and opens the door. “Miles.” I sigh.
“Come on. I need to get back up here so I can get dressed and get Win to school.”
“You do realize you could just go get dressed, right? You don’t need to walk me to my car.” I follow him out into the hall.
“Do you always need to argue with me?”
“Do you always have to be annoying?” I step onto the elevator when the doors open, then cross my arms over my chest and glare at him when he gets on with me.
“Em, cut the attitude. I wanted a minute so I could talk to you about what happened with Winter yesterday.”
“Oh.” My arms fall to my sides, my annoyance gone in an instant. I should have figured he’d want to know about that, since we didn’t get a chance to talk last night. “It was just little-girl drama. Nothing more than what I texted you,” I say quietly as the doors to the elevator open on the first floor, and we step out. “She was fine. It just hurt her feelings.”
“I appreciate you taking care of her. She doesn’t always talk to me about those kinds of things when they come up.”
“If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t want to talk to me about it either. But I could tell something was bothering her when I picked her up, so I kept prodding until she gave in. That’s when the tears started.”
“She has a soft heart.”
“Yeah,” I agree, taking a step back when he opens the door to my car. “She’s also a girl, and girls just tend to take everything personally, even when they shouldn’t.”
“So, you’re saying this isn’t going to get better?”
“It will.” I shrug. “In about twenty more years, when she stops caring what everyone else thinks.”
“Great,” he mutters.
“You’ll get used to it eventually.” I laugh and start to slide into my seat but stop when his hand wraps around my hip. He leans in, touching his mouth to the edge of mine. Not my cheek, but the very edge of my lips.
With my heart racing and insides twisted into a knot, I feel his hand around my hip fall away, and he leans back to look me in the eye. “Message me when you get home.”
Am I losing it? He doesn’t seem even a little fazed by the fact that he basically just kissed me on the lips. Okay, not really, but also… kind of.
“Sure.” I practically fall into my car and turn on the engine while he shuts my door. I lift my hand and wave, then take off down the street, waiting until I’m at the end of the block to touch my fingers to my mouth, where his lips were, wondering if I just imagined them being there.
“Oh, he’s handsome,” my boss Polly says, looking over my shoulder as I show her a photo of one of the guys who messaged me on the dating app I downloaded a few days ago. An app I finally opened this morning after I came to the realization that I’m reading way too much into every encounter I have with Miles.
We’re friends, just friends, and it’s important I remember that when my mind starts playing tricks on me like it did after his lips barely touched mine. I know it will be easier when I’m not spending every day with him and Winter, playing pretend-family and enjoying it like it’s a real thing. It will also be easier if I start dating and meeting men who are actually interested in me.
“What’s his name?” She takes my phone and begins swiping through the photos on his profile.
“Brad.” I look over at her. “He wants to meet tomorrow evening for a drink.”
“Are you going to?”
“I think so.” I chew the inside of my cheek. I need to—I know I do—but even thinking about dating again fills me with a sense of dread.
Her eyes roam over my face, and her expression gentles. “Have I told you how proud of you I am?”
“For what?”
“For being so strong and refusing to settle. A lot of women would have just accepted the way things were in their relationship and tucked in, hoping for the best. Not a lot of women are willing to suffer the loss of something good in hopes of gaining something better in the long run.”