Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
ANNIE
“Have you been here before?” Miles flips the menu over without an ounce of enthusiasm, his eyes barely skimming the French dish names.
“Once.” With Cameron who never made the mistake of bringing me here for a date again. Half of the French isn’t even accurate. There’s a reason this place serves designer-sounding dishes to wealthy people in casual clothes. Plus, a French restaurant this close to campus is just an avenue for the underage rich kids to come to drink wine without being carded.
Miles puts his menu down on the table and studies me across the table. “The food any good?”
“You’ve never been here?” I’m surprised he suggested the place then. Even if Miles has money, we’re both out of place here. His posture looks as stiff as mine must be.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I just figured enough of our peers would be here taking selfies that we’d be seen coming here.”
“Makes sense.” I’m glad he doesn’t push the question about the food. I don’t want to admit the food isn’t great while wait staff are floating around and could hear me; I don’t want to have to lie either.
Miles leans back in his chair and blows out a long breath. He scans the restaurant with its strange mix of industrial and French bistro decor. White doilies decorate the center of wrought iron tables. Lamps that look like a single light bulb pointing upright rest on the doilies in the center of each table.
The effect is jarring.
“Fuck this plan.” Miles shoves his chair back from the table and stands. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We haven’t even ordered drinks yet. From the corner of my eye, I can see a confused waiter pause en route to our table. We’ve only been seated for a couple of minutes.
“Okay.” I can feel heat rise to my cheeks as I hurriedly stand and push my chair politely under the table. As I follow Miles toward the front entrance, I mumble, “I’m sorry,” to the waiter as we pass him.
Not that I expected our attempt at a date to be flawless, but I thought Miles would at least go through with things after insisting I agree to give the date a try. I mentally run over the short events of the evening so far, desperately seeking an explanation for the sudden change of mind.
Once we’re outside, I cross my arms over my chest and ask, “Do you want me to get another ride home?”
“Huh?” Miles stops short of the parking lot and turns to look questioningly over at me.
I hurriedly add, “I don’t mind getting my mom to pick me up so you don’t have to drive me all the way back home. She really won’t mind. Or I have like three different apps I could use to get a car service. I could do that.”
“Fucking hell, Blue. Can you relax for like five seconds?”
“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” I don’t feel confident in my ability to relax at pretty much any given moment ever, but this feels like a moment where I need to lie. For both of our sakes.
Miles closes in on me and shocks me by putting his hand on my lower back, dangerously close to his fingers grazing my butt. “You’re not going home, Blue. I haven’t given up on you yet.”
“You can’t be serious.” I shuffle closer to Miles’ side as we stride through rows of cars in the parking lot of the football stadium.
“Why not? If we’re going to go somewhere neither of us feels comfortable, we might as well be seen by the most people possible and also eat food we can actually enjoy.” He shrugs like this is a completely reasonable idea.
I startle as a chant starts up a row over from us. I can’t even make out what they’re saying, but a whole group of co-eds joins in and then collectively chugs from red cups.
Tailgating is not my idea of a good first date.
“Isn’t this the kind of thing you do with friends?” I point out as we continue making our way closer to the stadium. The very crowded, very loud stadium.
Based on the intermittent cheering coming from inside the stadium, the football game has already started. From what little I know about the premise of football tailgating, everyone still outside is just here for the party.
Miles grins over at me. “Don’t worry, Blue. We have an invite.”
Before I can question him further, he reaches out to clasp his hand around mine and tugs me even closer. Having someone new hold my hand feels weird but it’s also comforting as we forge our way through the unfamiliarity together.
“Miles!” A curly-haired guy steps out from a group of people with a slack-jawed stare of disbelief. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead at this kind of thing.” He laughs nervously as Miles and I slow beside the black pickup truck hosting the group’s tailgating.
Miles places two fingers across his wrist. “Weird, still have a pulse.” He shrugs with a smirk. “Seth, this is my girlfriend, Blue. Blue, this is Seth.”
Seth turns his disbelief towards me. He can join the shock club. I wasn’t prepared for Miles to introduce me as a girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you, Blue.” Seth stumbles over his own feet to get close enough to shake my hand.
“You can call me Annie,” I say.
“Oh, sure. Annie then.” Seth smiles warmly. He seems pretty normal in a nerdy way. I can’t fathom how he managed to wind up friends with someone as grumpy and standoffish as Miles.
Miles snakes his arm around my waist and tugs me against his side. My cheeks heat as a few people gathered around the truck catch sight of us and stare openly. We aren’t even wearing the school colors. I can only hope we aren’t wearing the opposing team's colors by accident instead.
At least I don’t see anyone I recognize from Cameron’s group of friends. We can totally pull off looking like we’re in a relationship in front of people who don’t know any better.
I lean into Miles more, tipping my head back to look up at him with what I hope is a convincing smile. “We hope you don’t mind us joining you late.” I let my gaze linger on Miles before looking at Seth with a more sheepish, demure smile. “We were doing dinner for date night but we made a mistake trying to go to that French place down the road. We left before we even ordered.”
Seth raises his hands and nods thoughtfully. “Say no more. Let’s get you both some real food.”
By real food, he means slightly burnt hotdogs and lukewarm soda.
“Is that nacho cheese?” I ask, leaning around Miles to see the crockpot full of thick orange sludge. Jarred cheese is one of life’s best guilty pleasures. Ballpark cheese is practically its own culture for my mom and me.
Miles snorts a laugh. “Don’t run anyone down, Blue. I’m sure there’s plenty of shitty cheese to go around.”
A cheap hotdog is a thousand times better once it’s drowning in nacho cheese sauce. I groan as I take my first bite, standing off to one side of the tailgating while Seth gives Miles a rundown of how the football game has gone so far.
At the sound of my moan, Miles’ gaze flicks to me. His dark eyes narrow as if I made the sound on purpose just to get to him.
“Sorry.” I shrug halfheartedly. “My mom and I used to go to our neighbor’s son’s little league baseball games just for an excuse to eat ballpark food. This is my idea of the perfect date meal.”
“I guess I nailed it then, huh?” He winks at me before turning back to his conversation with Seth, and I nearly melt.
Miles has no business looking that good winking at me when this is only a mutually beneficial arrangement and not a real date.
He’s just so… attractive.
I tried not to pay attention to that detail when I needed him to tutor me. Now that he’s not interested in playing that role anyway, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to tune out the part of my brain encouraging me to admire his soft-looking hair and sharp jawline.
I finish scarfing my cheesy hotdog. Luckily, Miles is too busy taking far more reasonable bites of his hotdog in between talking with Seth to notice that I eat like a gremlin when I’m really hungry.
Seth excuses himself when Miles is washing down his last bite of hotdog, and then Miles turns toward me with a sheepish apology. “I didn’t mean to leave you out of the conversation.”
“I didn’t mind. I felt like I was starving so thanks for letting me have a chance to eat without any manners and you having to bear witness to me at my worst.”
I’m rewarded with a deep, rumbling laugh from Miles.
He tosses his empty drink cup in the trash then takes my empty cup and tosses that one for me too. When he’s done, I feel like his full attention gets focused squarely on me. He barely seems aware of the party happening around us until a group groan goes up around us.
“Oof. The enemy scored again!” one of Seth’s tailgating pals calls out, his eyes glued to his phone as he watches a stream of the game.
“Not the enemy ,” Miles mocks under his breath. I’m the only one who hears him now that no one is looking at us like zoo animals on display for their entertainment.
I laugh lightly. “American football is basically the equivalent of modern-day gladiator fights.”
“No kidding.” Miles’ lips tip up at one side. “Maybe hanging out with you isn’t as bad as I expected, Blue.”
“Of course not; I’m a delight. You’re the surly jerk that no one should want to hang out with.” I keep my voice light and teasing. The reality is that I am a little hurt by the idea that he thought spending time with me would be abysmal. He thinks very little of me.
Miles places his hands on my shoulders. “What’s that frown for?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head as I make sure to smile again.
“Oh, c’mon. We’re having a nice time, right? And we’re on the same team now, Annie. So tell me what’s going on.” His forehead crinkles with concern that seems genuine.
After a deep breath, I admit, “You don’t have to point out how awful you expected this to be. We both know what we’re doing here, you don’t have to point out the obvious.”
Miles gapes speechlessly at me.
I can’t shake the sense that someone is watching our little exchange. I look around curiously for the source of the feeling. In less than sixty seconds, I find Cameron like he’s the easiest Where’s Waldo? I’ve ever seen. He glares over at us from the back of a group of his friends who seem to be departing from the game ahead of the crowd.
“Crap.” I shift my body so that I’m facing Miles more, trying to hide my face from Cameron as if he hasn’t already noticed me.
Miles’ gaze follows the line of sight from where I was just looking and a scowl sets in as he sees the same thing I noticed. “I guess we have an audience.” Miles inches closer to me. “Hey, Blue?”
“Yes, Miles?” My breath catches on his name.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers.
Miles cups his hand around the back of my head and drags my face to his, his lips parted slightly as his mouth captures mine in a steamy kiss. He doesn’t just peck my lips and part ways, he tangles his fingers into my hair and tugs to position my head exactly how he wants me. He peppers kisses at the corner of my mouth on either side, teasing me before he kisses me directly again.
I part my lips and let him nibble at my bottom lip a moment. This kiss is even more intense than our first. A soft whimper escapes me, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the crowd around us.
He hears me, though. A low grumble tears from his throat as he tightens his grip on my hair and kisses me more firmly. Almost bruising in intensity.
By the time Miles pulls away, there’s no chance Cameron is still watching. Neither of us even bother looking around for him as we stare panting at each other, both struggling to catch our breath.
Miles manages to speak first. “Blue… I don’t think we know anything. I have no idea anymore what it is we’re doing here.”