Chapter Eighteen Magic in the Book Room #2
“Stepsister.” I don’t break eye contact with him. His eyes are so beautiful. I could stare at them forever. “I don’t know if that kiss, like, really meant anything to you… I mean, you said you meant it, but it was just a kiss. And you said it was to make my prom more memorable.”
He smiles. “So you thought I was…”
“I thought you were a player. Kissing me and dating Sarina.”
He chuckles and steps even closer. I can feel his warmth. I can feel his breath. I want to close the gap between us, but I’m still not sure this is really happening.
“I don’t have the foggiest idea how to be a player,” he says softly. “I have no clue how to go after someone I’m into—which is why I can’t seem to do the right thing with you. But I definitely meant that kiss.” He’s still very close, but he’s not moving.
“Do you still mean it?” I ask, and he nods, his eyes watching my mouth. I decide to take matters into my own hands. “Show me,” I say. I put my hands behind his neck, pull him down to my level, and kiss him myself.
His arms immediately go around my waist to hold me close, and it’s just like Saturday night.
I go on my tippy-toes, feeling every nerve in my body singing for him.
Miles kisses me like he’s starving and I’m a rich slice of black forest cake.
It’s like there’s all this explosive passion beneath the surface of him that only erupts for the right person. Me.
We kiss like that for probably longer than we should.
He’s crowding me against the bookshelves, and I’m grateful to have something solid behind me holding me up because I doubt my wobbly knees could take my weight.
I can hear his heartbeat and feel his smooth skin on my cheek, and his hair feels soft and thick through my fingers.
It’s like he’s consuming me, and I never want him to stop.
But eventually he does let me go when his phone vibrates. He picks it up from the desk and smiles.
“Reggie’s heading out. He wants me to lock up when we’re done.”
I laugh, letting my head rest on his shoulder. “I still can’t believe your boss and my boss conspired to get us alone.”
Miles leans down to kiss my neck. “I’m not complaining,” he says, his voice on my skin sending a shiver down my spine. “Do you think I mean this now?”
“Yeah, I think that would be hard to fake.” I pause. “That was the stupidest misunderstanding. Next time let’s just talk to each other.”
He laughs, then pulls me down to the floor. We sit very close, leaning back against the desk. And we’re holding hands. I have no idea what any of this means. Maybe we’re going to talk. Maybe kiss again. I hope so.
He squeezes my hand, then lifts it like he’s going to kiss it gently, but then gives the back of my hand three loud sloppy smooches. I laugh because it tickles and he’s silly.
This is another surprising thing about getting to know Miles like this. He’s… playful. He’s not stuffy at all. I was so wrong about him.
“You are, like, easily the cutest person I’ve ever met,” I say.
He huffs and looks away. He’s clearly not used to compliments. I wish I could find that ex of his and tell her off for not showering Miles with praise.
“You’re blushing,” I add. “Now you’re even cuter.”
He looks at me. “Brown people don’t blush.”
“Sure we do. Our blood is red, isn’t it? Now be honest. How are you enjoying Pride and Prejudice ?”
“I’m loving it. I’m almost at the end, but I’m going to read it again when I’m done.”
I laugh. “Miles Desai loves a romance novel.”
He nods. “I do! It’s so… witty . And I love the exploration of class differences and how they can impact our first impressions of people.”
I smile. I don’t think I’d realized it, but Miles and I kind of did what Darcy and Elizabeth did.
I judged Miles before I really knew him.
I assumed that because he was an outsider—because he was new to Love Street and because he came from a suburban mansion—he and I would never have the same perspective.
And he clearly judged me, too. Based on my clothes and my personality, he thought I was naive and immature.
“Darcy and Elizabeth figured out that there’s a lot more to each other than what they originally saw,” I say.
Miles nods.
“When did you stop hating me, anyway?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I never hated you, Sana. I mean, I thought you were so pretty when I first saw you at LoveBug that I could barely speak to you.”
Amazing. I thought he was being so rude that day. “But then I started irritating you as much as you were irritating me.”
“I think challenging is a better word than irritating,” he says as he puts his hand on my waist.
I chuckle. “And I know you like to be challenged. Does the fact that you’re enjoying that book mean you want to read more romance?” I ask.
He nods. “Maybe. I definitely want to read more Austen. Maybe more classics like that. The Bronte sisters?”
My face scrunches as I shake my head. “There’s no joy in the Brontes. It’s just depressed people crying on the moors. You should read joyful romances. Because that’s what romance is supposed to be. Fun .”
He laughs and squeezes my hand. “I have a feeling that I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”
I turn to look at his face. “Is that what we’re doing? Romance… ing?”
His brows knit together. “Is that what you want?”
“What do you want, Miles?”
He turns his body so he can take my other hand in his. “Well, first I want to do this.” He kisses my lips again. “Then I want to ask if you’d let me take you out.”
“Like on a date?”
He nods. “I plan it this time.” At my surprised look, he continues. “I want to show you my skills.”
“Yes, please. I want to see all your skills.” I take the back of his head and pull him in for another kiss.
We break apart after I find myself fully on his lap. Reggie probably knows what we’re up to, but we shouldn’t get too carried away in his store. I lean my head on Miles’s shoulder.
“We have a festival meeting tomorrow night. How about Sunday?” he asks.
“I’m working at Cosmic… but after five?”
He smiles. “Perfect.”
“Hey, will this”—I squeeze his hand—“get in the way of us planning the festival together?”
“Maybe this means we won’t disagree on everything.”
I giggle. “I doubt that. We might disagree more. Maybe you’ll be comfortable enough to tell me all the things you dislike about me.”
He wraps his arms around my waist. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find anything. I think I like pretty much everything about you. A lot.”
I smile. “I like you a lot too, Miles.” I give him a kiss on the cheek. “I should have known this would happen the first time I saw you. I mean, we were both drinking pink tea. That was fate.”
“Or… a coincidence.” He smiles widely, then kisses my lips again.
And we don’t talk much after that for a while.