orientation, whatever. To my parents, having money didn’t make them better than anyone else. It’s why when Miles said I was nice to everyone, I felt a surge of pride.
Which is why this year above all others is the hardest not to be with them.
So while many of my old friends are busy avoiding their families for the holidays, choosing to escape to Aspen or the Caribbean, I’m desperate to be with mine.
And I want Miles to be there with me.
Miles and I snuggled for the remainder of the film. He watched it with me, holding me close and tickling my bare skin throughout like he couldn’t stop touching me. Sort of like what he’s doing now as his fingers drag along the curve and dip from my ribs down to my hipbone.
He hasn’t spoken yet and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s got a lot on his mind.
The last thing in the world I want to do is guilt him. He needs to make this decision on his own. Telling him how badly I want him there will bring out the hero in him and I can’t have that. I have no idea what this is between us. It came on strong and fast, much like the storm that’s still whipping up a flurry of shit outside the window.
But that doesn’t make it any less real.
As I said, this was more a long time coming than anything else.
Finally, I feel his mouth meet the crook of my neck and I know, I just freaking know, that whatever all that’s sitting in his mind or on his shoulders is why it took him so long to do so.
But really, at the end of the day, what am I pushing for? Would I consider moving up here? Would he even want that? I mean, talk about moving quickly—pun intended. That’s lunacy.
Even if I can envision it.
“Are you hungry?” he grumbles against me, his scruffy beard the best tickle on the planet.
“Starving.”
“You never asked how I know how you take your coffee.”
My eyes pop open wide, staring unseeing before me. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
I feel his smile against me, the bridge of his nose rubbing against my shoulder. “I used to do my own grocery shopping. The place where I lived, well, it was more like a boarding house than a home. Each kid, and there were three others like me, all had to do their own cooking and things. Coffee has always been my vice and I couldn’t exactly afford eight dollars a day on Starbucks.”
“I hate Starbucks. I know that’s like sacrilegious and whatever, but it always tasted bitter to me.”
“Yeah, that is sacrilegious.”
I laugh, bumping my ass back into him and his smile grows, kissing my shoulder blade.
“Your family chef and the grounds guy…”
“Conrad,” I fill in for him.
“Conrad. Cool guy. Anyway, the two of them would hit the supermarket on Sundays and that was usually my day too. I saw them there once and overheard them mention your name. Not a lot of London’s out there, so I knew it was you. I stood in the aisle, like a weird creeper, reading the label of something I don’t remember and listening to your family chef laugh about how you like half and half and enough sugar to—”
“Give a walrus cavities,” I finish, and he chuckles.
“Yep. That’s what she said.”
I groan. “She’s been saying that since I started drinking coffee freshman year. I like it pale and sweet.”
“Like your skin,” he hums into me, kissing me some more.
“I can’t believe you remember that all these years later.”
“I remember everything about you, London. You were my obsession. My greatest desire. The queen of all my dreams and biggest fantasies.”
“That makes me angry.”
He nips at my shoulder. “Me too. But I was a scared kid and there was no getting around the differences between you and me back then.”
Maybe not. Still, I never saw those differences. Though that’s likely naïve on my part.
“I like that you know how I take my coffee.” My eyes close, cinching just a little tight. I’m not used to giving so much of myself up to a man and yet with Miles, I can’t seem to stop.
“I do too. But I don’t know how you got your name. Like I said, not a lot of London’s walking around.”
“You ready to be grossed out?”
“Um. I don’t know how to answer that.”
I smile. “I’m London. My sisters are Savannah and Charleston. Each named after