Just One Kiss - J. Saman Page 0,8
inside of me begins to speed up. My heart goes into a flutter as my stomach dips with a sensation resembling anticipation.
But for what, I’m not entirely sure.
It’s the way he’s looking at me.
His smile is long gone, but it’s like there is something hidden behind his reformed, stoic mask. Silence collapses in on us, thick and heavy like the blanket still covering my lower half. I wonder if he’s thinking about the last time we saw each other.
About the bonfire.
I wonder if he’s remembering the art class I took when art was never my thing. I wonder if he’s remembering the hour and a half we had to spend together in the library every day because we both had a creative writing independent study and that’s where we were instructed to go to work on our projects. He barely ever spoke to me there, but I’d catch him looking at me more than I wouldn’t.
I doubt he has any idea as to how that daily library session forever changed the fabric of my life. Made me who I am. Created the world I now reside in.
I’ve thought about Miles Ford over the years. In many ways. The questions lingered if for no other reason than the mystery behind him.
He disappeared.
Graduated. Came to the party that night. Then gone. Poof.
I know because I went looking for him after that night.
After what happened between us.
His eyes slip down to my lips, holding on for a long beat before they slide effortlessly down the rest of me as I sit here like a wounded doll on his sofa with his dog’s head on my lap, my fingers still absently brushing at its fur. Finally, he clears his throat and whatever spell we’re momentarily lost in is gone.
“I brought your suitcases from your car and asked a buddy of mine to have it towed here. It’s in my garage already. Feel free to take a shower or change or whatever you need. There’s a guest room at the top of the stairs at the end of the hall. I changed the linens and it has its own bathroom.” He points to the stairs behind him. “The landline works the best when it’s snowing like this. There is one in that room, I think.”
I stare, stunned, only able to jerk out a small nod. He changed the sheets. Brought up my suitcases. Had my car towed here. He stopped to help when he saw my car and bandaged up my wound—Superhero Miles to the rescue.
“Thank you, Captain America. I know I’m saying thank you a lot, but I’m not even sure how else to express my gratitude.”
He belts out a startled laugh. “Captain America?”
I shrug. “Though I wish I were as fierce as the Black Widow in this moment, I think it’s safe to say you saved my damsel in distress from her sticky situation. And” —I tilt my head, smirking before I can stop the playful gesture— “you have blue eyes and brown hair. Same as him.”
“I thought he was blond?”
I grin. “Chris Evans? Nope.”
“You’d look weird with red hair,” he comments, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “Red hair and violet eyes?” He shakes his head, rubbing a hand at his jaw and I know it’s to hide his grin. I think he might even be blushing, and damn, he’s so cute. Such a rugged, burly man’s man, but still so nerdy in his glasses and dimples and smiles.
“How long is this storm supposed to last?” I ask, changing the subject and going back to safe, fact-based territory. The idea of staying here alone with Miles in his house doing things to me it shouldn’t.
“Not sure. A couple of days at the most. I have a generator, so even if we lose power, it won’t be an issue.”
A couple of days? Losing power?
I hadn’t even considered that. That the storm would last that long. That we could lose power. That I would be stuck here with the sexy mountain man who doesn’t seem all that jazzed about having me for a houseguest.
“Where were you headed?”
“Up near the Canadian border to Lake Champlain. My parents have a place there. Is there any way—”
“No. Not when it’s coming down like this. That’s still a ways from here, over an hour in good weather.”
“It’s almost Christmas,” I mumble dejectedly.
“I suppose it is. With any luck, the storm will clear out faster than expected and you can get back to whoever and wherever you were