Hate Me or Love Me - Ella Miles Page 0,161

the broth into her mouth. If she keeps doing that she won’t have any left to eat her noodles with.

“Fine.” She slams her spoon down.

“Yes, princess?”

She glares. “Will you please help me?”

“Of course, pretty girl.”

I reach across the table touching her hand lightly so that I can see the goosebumps on her arms. And then, I move her top chopstick slightly in her hand.

“That’s it?”

I nod. “Try now.”

She clasps a noodle and brings it to her mouth. She chews the noodle slowly with her eyes closed. When she swallows, she opens her eyes.

“I’ve changed my mind. Knight, you have just become my favorite person in the world.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind again soon enough. But I’ll take the compliment for now.”

We both eat more of the ramen, slowly enjoying the best food in Denver.

“Tell me something no one else knows,” Mila begs suddenly.

I think for a moment, trying to come up with something good.

“I pretend to hate my parents for leaving me, but I secretly wish they would come back every damn day. Even though I’m a grown man now, I still wish they would come back and be my parents.”

Noodles fall out of her gaping mouth.

“I also have only ever loved one woman. Only had one serious girlfriend who turned into my wife. One love and now I think love is overrated.”

She drops her chopsticks. She’s going to regret that because she’s not going to remember how to hold them correctly when she picks them back up again.

“Oh, and I’ve never been to a concert before.”

“You’ve never been to a concert before?”

“Nope, I’ve listened to bands play in bars, but never bought a ticket and gone to an actual concert before.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll leave disappointed when I realize the band isn’t as good as they are on the radio. That they are just normal guys playing instruments, and the only reason their voice sounds like that is autotune.”

She frowns. “I’m taking you to a concert.”

“What about you? Tell me something no one knows about you.”

Her eyes sear into mine. “My favorite movie is 10 Things I Hate About You, my favorite musician is Taylor Swift, and my favorite food is tacos.”

“Really? I poured my soul out, and you tell me your favorite food is tacos? That’s not telling me something no one else knows.”

She wipes her mouth on a napkin, her eyes not meeting mine. “Yes, it is.”

I tilt her chin to look at me. “No, it’s not.”

She sighs. “I don’t have many friends. My roommate is all I have, and we don’t have time to talk about our favorite anythings because we are always working and trying to scrape by with enough money to even feed ourselves. And my family…”

“What?”

“Well, they hate me.”

I narrow my eyes not understanding. “Your family can’t hate you.”

“They do. They put up with me, but they don’t like me. They only care about making sure I don’t put our name back in the newspaper again. They don’t care what I like.”

Our waiter returns, and I hold out my credit card, unable to take my eyes off Mila. I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know what pain she’s felt, but from the look in her eyes, it rivals my own.

She thinks we are polar opposites, but I think we are exactly the same.

I hold up my bowl and motion for her to do the same. Both bowls contain a few remnants of broth. We clink our bowls together and then drink until it’s gone.

We both smile at each other when we are finished. I no longer hear the music playing in the background, I no longer feel the heat of the other people in the room, I no longer smell the soup. All my senses feel is her.

The connection I feel to her is instant. And I regret saying I won’t fuck her. Because right now it’s all I can think about.

I hold my hand out to her, sure she’s going to brush me off and say she can walk without holding my hand, but to my surprise, she takes it.

I pull her to her feet and lead her out through the restaurant. The cool evening air hits us as we both reach outside, and I breathe in sharply like I haven’t taken a breath in hours.

She leans into my chest as I jerk her closer, needing to feel her body against mine until our lips are inches apart.

Her eyes are doe-eyed, her mouth parted, and

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