care of her for me."
***
I 'm sure this isn't what Susan meant by take care of my daughter , but I doubt she'd object.
I find what I want quickly. It's not the most conventional wedding present, but I know Meg will love it.
"Excuse me." The voice that asks is shy. Barely a whisper. "Aren't you Miles Webb?"
Ah, a female fan in a sex toy shop. Two years ago, this night would have gone a different way.
I turn to face my fan. She's a pretty girl, and she's dressed to party—high heels, tight skirt, enough makeup to drown her features.
Two years ago, I'd have leaned in and whispered yes, but baby, you can call me Miles . Two years ago, I'd have gotten her panties to her knees by the time we were out the door.
I don't miss that guy. I don't even like that guy.
She's looking at me like she hopes I'm that guy. I'm not sure what to think. If she really is a fan, she should know I'm taken. My tattoo was big news. Women everywhere wept over the Smoking Hot Vocalist, Miles Webb, Off the Market headlines.
My temper flares. It's been a long time since I've hit anyone. Most of the time, I'm steady as a rock.
No wonder I denied the existence of love for so long. It breaks down your walls. Makes you vulnerable.
"Sorry, I'm not familiar with that name." I nod a goodbye and make my way to the register.
I can feel her gaze on me. There's a No Cameras sign posted on the wall. There are about twenty No Cameras signs posted on the walls. She doesn't look like the rule-breaking type. As far as I can tell, it took every ounce of courage for her to talk to me.
It’s been a long time since I've hit anyone. Don't want to start again.
I finish my purchase, step outside, and text Meg than I'm inbound. Usually, she replies right away. Nothing tonight.
Nothing when I'm back at the hotel.
Damn, the elevator is taking forever. I need to break out this gift and use it with her.
Finally, the damn thing arrives. I step into the elevator and lean against the mirrored wall. All the walls are mirrored. Gives me ideas. Fucking amazing ideas.
It takes the elevator an eternity to reach our floor. I walk quickly. My key is in my pocket. There. The door flashes green as it unlocks. I step inside.
The lights are off. Even in the bathroom.
Meg is lying on the bed, naked and fast asleep.
This isn't how I expected the night to end, but fuck, does she look cute in her sleep.
I've already got a plan figured out. I spend an hour squaring away the details, then I brush my teeth, strip to my boxers, and slide into bed behind her.
Her body stirs. She mumbles my name, nestles into my chest, and falls back to sleep.
Chapter Nine
––––––––
M egara
It's heaven waking up in Miles's arms.
Math is difficult at this time of the morning, but mine suggests I have another twenty-seven days in the same bed as him.
Most people don't get twenty-seven great days in a year. Some people don't get twenty-seven great days in their life.
I'm lucky, but still, I want more.
I get up, brush my teeth, and rifle though my attire options. Thankfully, Mom brought me a suitcase of clothes. I dress in jeans, a t-shirt, and a cozy cashmere sweater.
Miles rises and goes through his morning routine. He slides his arms around me and pulls me onto the couch with him. "That sweater is entrapment."
"Is that right?"
"Mhmm." He presses his lips to mine. "Can't do anything but hug you."
"Why is that a problem?"
"Because we have someplace to be." He releases me and brings his arms to the bed. "Our tour of the venue is in an hour."
"You should have woken me."
"You look too cute sleeping." He brushes my hair behind my ears. "I made reservations for dinner tonight. Private room at a Japanese place. It's not technically a rehearsal dinner-"
"You're that sure I'll love the venue?"
He nods.
"What if I don't like it?"
"Then we'll find another venue."
"And the money for the deposit?"
Miles laughs. "Princess, we're getting married. This is the one time where you don't
Michael Cunningham
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A. D. Elliott
Author's Note
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