22. We Should do It
22
Miles
It’s been a few days since I last saw Roxy, and I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. I’ve had way too much free time on my hands since the season ended, and even though I live next door to my best friend, Riggs has his own life with Tessa. I don’t want to intrude…too much.
What I really want to do is call Roxy. Make plans to get together to do something friends would do that will hopefully result in something decidedly not friend-like. But I’m trying to keep my distance. It’s getting harder and harder to hide my growing feelings, and I don’t want to scare her off before she realizes she cares about me, too. As more than a friend.
So, instead of doing what I really want, I pull on some athletic shorts, a t-shirt, and a hoodie before pushing my feet into my running shoes. It’s cold when I step outside onto my front porch, and I blow into my bare hands as I stretch out my calf muscles and back.
Jogging down the steps, I set off at a moderate pace, heading down the road toward downtown Sublime. I keep my breathing even as I clear my mind, focusing on my heartbeat and the thud of my shoes on the asphalt.
The crisp, fresh air fills my lungs on each inhale, invigorating me enough to pick up the pace. By the time I reach the heart of downtown, I’m sprinting, so I slow down and jog around the block a couple of times to bring my heart rate down. After the second revolution, I stop in front of Beans & Books and lift my arms as I pace back and forth to catch my breath.
A trio of women who appear to be in their early twenties cross the street to approach me, one of them asking for a selfie while the other two giggle excitedly. I take her phone and snap the picture quickly before handing it back. I’m pretty sure she sniffs my chest as she gives me a hug, then the three of them quickly scurry off.
My lips curve up at their excitement as I stretch out my leg muscles, then I turn and head inside the coffee shop. The warm scent of java fills my nostrils and guides me toward the counter. Tessa looks up and gives me a smile and wave as I stride toward her, and I return the gesture.
“Morning, Miles,” she says, shoving the rag in her hand into the pocket of her apron before approaching the tablet she takes orders on. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please,” I reply, my eyes scanning the menu for some food to go along with the coffee. “And a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel, please.”
“You got it,” she says, tapping at the screen.
I pull my phone from my pocket so she can scan the barcode from my digital wallet, then she moves away to get started on my white mocha latte. My eye catches something colorful in cellophane packaging on the counter, and I tilt my head to read the label.
“Moxy,” I mutter, picking up the small package.
Inside are two cookies. One is shaped like a cup––if viewed from above––and is iced with brown frosting complete with a foam design in the middle like a cup of cappuccino. The other looks like a mug with the words “More books, please” printed out on the side.
When Tessa approaches me with a steaming mug of coffee, I hold up the package. “Are these Roxy’s?”
Her grin widens as she nods excitedly.
“Yes. She said you encouraged her to open her own shop, and I offered up this as a trial run.” She points at the cookies in my hand. “That’s the last pack out of fifteen I displayed this morning. They’re selling like crazy, and everyone is raving over how delicious they are.”
Warmth spirals through my chest as I set the cookies back down. I’m tempted to buy them, myself, but decide to leave them for someone who might not know how good Roxy’s cookies are.
“She’s going to do it, isn’t she?” I ask, meeting Tessa’s gaze.
“I really hope so, Miles,” she replies.
I look down at the cookies again. “Moxy. I like it.”
“You should,” she says, and my gaze shoots back up to meet her pointed stare.
“What does that mean?”
“Moxy. Miles. Roxy. Get it?”
I stumble back a step as if a boulder hit me right in the gut. “She said that’s what it means?”
Tessa shrugs. “You encouraged her to chase her dream. Without your belief and support, she’d still be procrastinating and talking herself out of trying. She doesn’t take that for granted, and wanted to honor you in some way. Plus, it’s a super cute name, right?”
I nod as another barista delivers my bagel sandwich. Then, changing my mind, I pick up the cookies and tell Tessa I’d like to buy them, as well as Roxy’s drink of choice. She grins knowingly, rings me up, and takes my payment. Gathering up my items, I give her a little wave before leaving the shop.
I need to see Roxy.
Juggling my purchases, I tap my phone with one hand to order a car from a ride service. I could walk to Roxy’s from here, but I don’t want her coffee to get too cold. Luckily, Sublime is a small town, and two minutes later, I’m in the back of a sedan headed for Roxy’s apartment complex.
When I get to her door, I take a deep breath and knock. Plucking the pack of cookies from the drink tray I’m holding in my left hand, I hold it up so it’s the first thing Roxy sees when she opens the door. As soon as it swings inward, her mouth open to greet me, her eyes zero in on the cookies.
“Hey,” she says, stepping back with a slight blush on her cheeks. “Come on in.”
“I brought coffee,” I say, holding up the tray as I pass by. “And I’ll split my breakfast sandwich with you if you want some of it.”
She inhales deeply. “Bacon?”
“With egg and cheese on a bagel,” I say over my shoulder as she follows me into the kitchen. Setting the tray down, I turn toward her with the cookies. “And this was the only pack left.”
Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. You sold out completely.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathes, then louder, “Oh, my God!”
She leaps toward me, crashing into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her in a tight grip before leaning backward to lift her feet off the floor. I spin around once, then set her back on her feet before pressing my mouth to hers in a firm, chaste kiss. Releasing her, I take a step back and place the cookies on the counter.
“We should do it.”
One cinnamon brow arches at my words. “Do what, exactly?”
“Well, that, too,” I say in a deep, husky voice, then laugh. “But I’m talking about your shop. We could open Moxy in one of the open storefronts downtown. I could come up with a decent business plan while you experiment with different cookies so we have a larger variety to offer.”
Her expression dims, and some of the excitement drains out of me as she says, “I don’t have the capital to start a new business, Miles.”
“I have no problem loaning you the money, Roxy. I believe in you. I know you can make Moxy a success.”
She’s already shaking her head before I finish. “No. No, no, no. I can’t take a loan from you.”
“Why not? I want to be a part of this. I want to help you realize your dreams.”
“Because money ends friendships, and I couldn’t bear it if it destroyed what we have.”
I snap my mouth closed, any further argument dying on my tongue. How can I argue with that? She wants to protect our friendship. To make sure nothing comes between us. Besides, despite how close we’ve grown over the last few weeks, we’re still getting to know each other. It takes time to develop the kind of trust you need to go into business together, especially when the product is as dear to you as Roxy’s cookie business is to her.
But she named it Moxy. After the two of us.
And that fills me with pride. I’m fucking honored.
So, I’m going to honor her and her wishes by not pushing her too far, too fast. Cocking my head, I give her a smile.
“Okay, then. Let’s eat, and then we can make some more cookies for Tessa to sell out of tomorrow.”
“You want to help?” she asks, her earlier distress melting away in lieu of a bright smile.
“Only if I get to lick the bowl,” I say with a smirk.
Her brown eyes darken, sending a jolt straight to my crotch. My words echo back through my mind, and though I wasn’t trying to sound dirty, I realize they came out that way.
And Roxy liked it.
“On second thought,” I say, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around her to jerk her against me, “maybe I’ll have my dessert first, then breakfast.”
She melts against me as I nuzzle her neck, my hand sliding down to grab a handful of her ass. A moan of pleasure slips between her lips, and my free hand moves to her breast. My thumb brushes over her pebbled nipple, then I freeze.
“Shit. I forgot I went for a run this morning. Can I use your shower first?”
“Mm,” she hums, running her hand up beneath my hoodie and shirt to caress my bare chest. “Maybe we could shower together.”
She yelps as the hand on her breast snaps down to smack her ass. Gripping her luscious flesh with both hands, I lift her up until her legs curl around my waist, then carry her through the apartment into her en suite bathroom.
We laugh as we strip each other out of our clothes while the water warms, then I pull her under the spray. She quickly grabs the body wash and squirts some into her palm. Rubbing her hands together until it lathers, she soaps me up, making me turn so she can get my back before I spin back around. When her hands move toward my swollen erection, I catch her wrists just before she touches me.
“Not yet,” I say, pushing her back against the wall and pinning her hands over her head. “I need to eat first. I’m starving.”
I growl on that last bit, and her breath catches in her throat. Dipping my head, I pull the tip of one breast into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the nipple before giving it a hard suck. Roxy makes a mewling noise deep in her throat, encouraging me to repeat the same process to the other breast.
Releasing her hands, I angle the spray to the side before dropping to my knees before her. Picking up one of her legs, I drape it over my shoulder and dive in, devouring her with zero buildup. I need to taste her. Now.
“Miles,” she huffs out as I lash at her clit with my tongue. “Fuck. That feels so good.”
I drive a finger inside her, finding her inner walls pulsing and slick with need. Jesus.
She’s so fucking hot and ready for me every time I touch her. And I want to touch her every God damn day. I want to taste her, to feel her come undone on my mouth, my fingers, and my cock every time she gets that spark of lust in her eyes.
But that’s not all. I want to hear her laugh at my corny jokes. Be the target of her own sarcastic wit. Sit on the couch and watch mindless television with her hand in mine. Listen to her dreams and help them become a reality. Allow her to help me achieve mine, in return.
And as she gasps and comes undone, her entire body shivering through the aftershocks while I suck on her clit, I know I could do this every fucking day…
If only she’d let me.