25. Way to Ruin a Guy’s Grand Gesture
25
Roxy
I’ve never been a good actor, but I think I’m doing a pretty good job of pretending I’m not miserable. I’m going through the motions, working and hanging out with my friends like Miles Blake didn’t come in like a hurricane and wreck my life.
Okay, he didn’t wreck my life. I did. I allowed myself to fall for him, then acted like an idiot trying to prove to myself that I hadn’t fallen. Now it’s over, thanks to my stupidity, and I’m in the exact spot I was trying to avoid with the whole “friends-with-benefits” agreement.
Miles is angry, I’m depressed, and we’re both alone.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“What?” I ask, my head snapping up to meet Skye’s gaze. “Sorry.”
“You’ve been zoning out all morning,” she says with sympathetic eyes.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Really. What were you saying?”
We’re having breakfast at a local diner we love, and my meat-lovers omelet has grown as cold as the coffee sitting beside my plate.
“I said I saw Miles riding around in Candi Chetworth’s car this morning.”
“What?!” I bark, then flinch when the group at a nearby table all turn to look at me. I mouth an apology, then return my attention to Skye and ask more quietly, “What?”
She rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you just admit you want to be with him? Everyone will be happier if you do.”
I shake my head. “We’re just––”
“Friends. I know,” she interrupts with a growl. “If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself, Roxy.”
I heave a sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. I want to be with him. But it changes nothing. I still can’t risk making Tessa and Riggs uncomfortable if things don’t work out.”
“Too fucking late.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means everyone knows you guys were together, despite your protests. It’s completely obvious both of you fell, hard. And now, you’re avoiding each other, and Tessa and Riggs are walking on eggshells around both of you.”
Shit. She’s right. I’ve noticed how cautious they’ve been around me since the blowup at the club, and I’m guessing they’re acting the same way around Miles.
I groan and drop my forehead to the table next to my plate. The dishes and silverware rattle as I bang my head against the wood.
“Stop,” Skye orders, grabbing my bird’s nest of a bun and lifting my head. When I meet her gaze, she says, “You should talk to Miles.”
Pulling free of her grasp, I sigh. “It’s too late. Especially if he’s dating Candi.”
“Ugh. Even if that’s true, it won’t last long. She’s fucking intolerable.”
I’m already shaking my head before she finishes speaking. “If he could move on this quickly, he never had feelings for me. Not real ones, anyway. Maybe he’s finally found what he’s been looking for, and he’ll be happier with her.”
“Jesus, when did you become such a God damn pushover? The Roxy I know goes after what she wants, balls to the wall. She’s not afraid of anything. And just because I saw him with that bleached, botoxed Barbie doesn’t mean they’re together-together.”
I blink a few times as she holds me in a firm gaze. Looking at myself through her eyes, I grind my molars together with irritation. What have I become? I’m not the type of woman who cuts her losses and hides the second things get hard.
And I’m not the type who’ll give up the best thing that ever happened to her out of fear.
“You know what? You’re right.”
My chair screeches across the linoleum flooring as I shoot up from my seat. Grabbing my wallet from my purse, I drop a twenty on the table to cover breakfast, then lean over to give Skye a tight hug.
“Thanks, Skye,” I whisper into her ear before straightening.
She gives me her brightest shit-eating grin. “Go get him, girl!”
Damn right, I am.
That confidence I felt with Skye fades a little with every second that passes. I’ve been waiting on his porch steps for at least an hour. I could’ve called him. Or at least texted. But in my infinite wisdom, I decided a surprise attack was best.
Better to get an unfiltered and unpracticed response to what I’m about to say. I need to tell my truth. And I need Miles to tell me his.
My heart starts to gallop as the grumble of an engine meets my ears. I push to my feet as his black Jeep pulls into the driveway. When it stops moving, I catch sight of Miles behind the wheel, his eyes wide as he watches me, in turn.
Slowly, he exits the vehicle, his gaze never straying as he walks around the hood and heads my way. He stops before me, and my position on the steps puts us eye-to-eye.
“Hi,” I say softly, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
I should’ve gone home to at least shower––and maybe run a brush through my hair––but I came here straight from the diner. Miles, on the other hand, looks like he’s fresh out of a photo shoot for a magazine cover.
“Hi,” he answers, his voice a bit stronger than mine.
“Can we talk?” I blurt before I lose my nerve.
He watches me for a few beats, then nods. “Sure. Come on inside.”
My heart pounds as he jogs up the steps, his cool, woodsy scent wafting up my nose as he passes. I shift my weight from foot to foot as I wait for him to unlock his door, then freeze when he pushes it open and turns to invite me inside with a small smile and a wave of his hand. I walk in, my pulse racing as memories of us together threaten to make my knees buckle.
Miles closes the door and walks into the kitchen, dropping a manila folder I didn’t realize he’d been holding onto the counter. I follow him, stopping on the opposite side of the island.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt without preamble.
Miles frowns. “About what happened at the club? There’s no need. I should be the one apologizing to you. I was out of line, and had no right to go all Neanderthal like I did. You can dance with whomever you want. We’re just––”
“I didn’t want to dance with him,” I cut in before he can finish that sentence. “I just did it because…”
The sentence trails off as I search for the right words to explain what I was feeling. What I am feeling. Miles cocks his head, then rounds the island to stand right in front of me.
“Because?” he offers, encouraging me to speak my mind.
I swallow thickly and steel my spine, meeting his gorgeous blue eyes. “Because I was trying to prove I don’t have feelings for you. But I was lying to myself as much as I was lying to you.” I huff a breath. “Because I do…have feelings, that is. For you. And it’s more than friendship. Much, much more.”
Miles drops his head. “God damn it, Roxy.”
Pain sears through me, then fades away when he lifts his head. A delighted grin curves his lips, making my heart stutter, and he shakes his head slowly.
“Way to ruin a guy’s grand gesture,” he says, reaching out to take my hands in both of his.
“Grand gesture?” I breathe as electric sparks rush up my arms from his touch.
He squeezes my hands, then releases me to reach behind him. Grabbing the folder he’d dropped on the counter, he hands it to me with a hopeful expression. I stare at him for a few seconds, then flip the folder open. I scan the pages quickly, my suspicion changing to confusion in an instant.
“What am I looking at?” I ask.
“A business plan to make Moxy a reality, a contract for me to become a silent investor if you’ll accept my help, and a loan application if you want to do it on your own.” He reaches out and flips the page over and taps his index finger against a real estate print out. “There are two listings here for spaces downtown that are available for lease. This one is right next door to Tessa’s shop and already has a full kitchen.”
My wide eyes burn with emotion as I lift my head to meet his gaze. “You put this together for me?”
“I wanted to show you how much I care about you. I want to support you however I can. To encourage you when you need it, and step back when you’re ready to shine on your own. I want to help you realize your dreams, Roxanne.”
I melt a little at his words, then gasp as a thought hits me. Tapping the real estate listings, I ask, “Is this why you were with Candi Chetworth this morning?” He arches a brow, and I quickly add, “Skye told me she saw you.”
He tilts his head to study me. “Were you jealous?”
I laugh as a tear spills over to track down my cheek. “About as jealous as you were when you saw me with Handsy McGee.”
He chuckles. “That’s good. Really good.”
“Why is that good?” I ask as he plucks the folder from my hand and tosses it back on the counter behind him.
“Because,” he says, reaching out to grab my hips and jerk me closer, “it means you like me as much as I like you.”
He presses a feather-light kiss to my lips, then uses his thumb to gently wipe the moisture from my cheek. I get lost in his gaze for a moment, my lips curving up into a bright smile.
“I guess I do.”
“And I guess that only leaves one last question,” he says.
“What’s that?”
He lowers his forehead to mine, his eyes still burning into me. “Roxanne Chamberlain, will you be my girlfriend?”
A laugh barks out of me, unbidden, and Miles presses his mouth to mine, his tongue diving in to taste me. I kiss him back as the emptiness I’ve been feeling the last few days fills up with joy and relief.
When he pulls back and looks at me with his question still burning in his gaze, I laugh again and nod my head.
“Yes. Definitely, yes.”
Miles whoops and picks me up, spinning me around in a circle before setting me back on my feet. Plucking the tie from my hair, he pushes his fingers into the strands and grips them tightly, tilting my head back so he can kiss me thoroughly.
My body is numb by the time he pulls back again and rubs the tip of his nose against mine. “I’ve fallen for you, Miss Chamberlain.”
Heat spreads through my chest as I stare into the blue depths of his eyes. “I’ve fallen for you, Mister Blake.”
With a soft smile, he swings me up into his arms and carries me from the kitchen toward his bedroom. I rest my cheek against his shoulder, my smile wide and my heart full.
I was wrong, locking Miles in the friend zone when we both obviously wanted so much more, but I don’t regret the decision. Not really.
The path we took led us to this moment, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing. We’re stronger for it, and I know this is the real deal. The kind that lasts.
“I like you so much,” I murmur as Miles lays me down on his bed.
“I like you, too,” he replies with a warm smile, then pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside.
No more bump and runs for us. We’ve dodged a few tackles and taken this ball to the end zone, and now it’s time to celebrate our victory.
In all my favorite ways.