Chapter Nineteen No Doubts Allowed
That night I don’t sleep well at all. My mind is too busy replaying that spectacularly romantic moment when Miles told me he still meant that kiss.
And when he said he likes everything about me.
That was a romantic moment for the ages .
Better than any book or movie I’d seen. Who would have thought that Miles Desai would be the one to make my knees weak and my skin tingle more than anyone else?
Honestly, Miles might be the most genuinely romantic person I’ve been with.
The most earnest . I’d been obsessing over him for weeks, but the reality of being with Miles far outweighs my expectations.
I exhale. Usually hooking up with someone new clears my head and makes my mood even sunnier than normal.
But… something about this thing, whatever it is, between Miles and me, feels different.
Deeper. Maybe it’s because he frustrated me so much when we met, which was only a month ago.
Like, I have whiplash from how much my feelings changed.
Back then I thought he was an arrogant know-it-all who didn’t care about my community.
But Miles does care about my community. He wouldn’t be working so hard on the Love on Love Street Festival if he didn’t care.
And rather than being an arrogant know-it-all, he’s smart and interested in learning and willing to admit to his mistakes.
He’s pragmatic, but that doesn’t mean he’s not passionate.
At the festival meeting on Saturday, I’m way too distracted by Miles next to me to contribute anything useful.
The purpose of this meeting is pretty much only to approve the website before it goes live, and while April shows us the site, I look at Miles instead.
He’s so… cute. But also, hot. Sexy. I thought he was incredibly good-looking the very first time I saw him, but somehow he’s even better now.
Smooth skin in the perfect medium brown.
Full lips that I now know are incredibly kissable.
And those intelligent eyes. Intense and thoughtful.
He’s looking so intently at April’s screen and listening to her explain her navigation choices.
He always does that. Listens to everyone.
Learns from them. He gives everyone his complete attention.
But then he notices me looking at him, and he blushes a bit. I want to take out my phone and snap a picture, so he can see what his blush looks like. I smile small at him, as if to say “busted,” and he shakes his head, a soundless chuckle on his lips.
Later, after the meeting, I linger as usual, but this time Miles does too. And so does Cara. She looks at me, then at Miles.
“Can you explain to me why the two of you were making goo-goo eyes at each other while April was talking about HTML code?” she asks.
I raise a brow. “Because… HTML is boring?”
Miles looks like he’s holding in a laugh.
Cara shakes her head. “Okay, what happened? We all wanted you to talk out whatever you were fighting about, but I wasn’t thinking you were going to… What exactly are you two doing?”
I hesitate. Miles and I hadn’t talked about what we’re labeling this yet.
We’d kissed twice. Actually, more than that, but on two different occasions.
And he asked me on a date and I said yes.
Does that mean we’re dating? If I say we’re dating, would he freak out?
Would I freak out if he didn’t say we were dating?
Literally for the very first time in my life I have no idea what to say.
“We’re… getting to know each other,” Miles finally says. Which is true, at least.
“And kissing,” I add. Because I’m me, and sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut.
Miles laughs, and I grin at him. He laughs so much now, and it makes me feel all warm and gushy that it could be because of me.
Cara looks at me with an incredulous expression. “Getting to know each other by kissing.”
I nod.
“So… you’re giving up on matchmaking him with others and decided that only you can teach him the true meaning of romance?”
Miles laughs again.
This is awkward. “Enough about me,” I say. “What’s new with you, Cara?”
Now it’s Cara’s turn to look awkward. Like she doesn’t know what to say. Which I gather is because she doesn’t want to talk to me about Hannah.
Finally, Cara shakes her head. “Nothing interesting. Same old.”
Yeah, she’s definitely still drinking Hannah’s BS. I sigh. If never talking about her girlfriend is the way for me and Cara to stay friends, I can do that.
Cara suddenly stands and picks up her bag. “I need to head out. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids!” Cara waves and leaves the café.
“That was weird,” I say.
Miles also stands, taking my and his mugs to the counter. “What was weird?”
“Cara. I think she doesn’t want to mention Hannah to me.” I exhale, standing. “I hope she’s okay.”
Miles shrugs, coming back to me. “I think Cara is smart enough to know what’s best for herself in a relationship.”
“I hope so.” I look at Miles, smiling. “Want to walk me home?”
“Um, my bike’s there, so I was going to either way.”
I run my finger softly down his bare arm. It’s staying quite warm in the evening now, so he’s just in a T-shirt. He gasps softly at the touch. Huh. Interesting. I do it again with the other arm and watch goose bumps erupt on him. “How sensitive is your skin, anyway?” I ask.
He chuckles again. “Why do I feel like this summer just got a lot more fun?”
I laugh. “Down, boy. Mom’s home. C’mon, though, we can hang out on the balcony.”
Ten minutes later we’re sitting at the small table on my balcony, eating a bag of organic chips and drinking a pot of tea.
“Everything for the festival is coming together so well,” I say.
Miles nods. “Yeah, I keep waiting for a shoe to drop. It’s almost going too smoothly.”
I shake my head. “Nonsense. No shoe will drop. The festival is going to be perfect. This whole summer is going to be epic.” I beam at him. I completely agree with what he said earlier—thanks to Miles, I suspect this summer is going to be a lot of fun.
We talk a bit more about the festival while we drink our tea. He’s so easy to talk to, but it’s getting late. And I can see my mother looking at me through the window. “I should go,” I say. “Mom’s chill, but she’s still a Brown mom.”
He cringes, then stands to unlock his bike. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
I nod. “I get off at five.”
“Can you meet me inside Broadview subway station as soon as you’re done work?”
“Sure. Where are we going, anyway?” I ask. And why would we meet at Broadview —there are a few stations closer to Love Street, and his place.
“It’s a surprise. Just meet me there.” He pulls his bike off the bike rack and leans it against the railing at the top of the stairs.
“How should I dress? Will we be outside?”
He shakes his head. “Dress for public transportation and a fast-casual restaurant.”
Casual restaurant? I’m really curious… Is this date going to be something from his list of inexpensive things to do in Toronto?
He gives me one of his wide smiles. “Trust me, Sana.”
“Of course I trust you.” I take a step toward him.
Through the window on the door, I can see my mother in the kitchen. She waves at me. I roll my eyes, then turn back to Miles.
“Text me when you get home?” I ask.
He nods, then wraps his arms around me. I freaking adore how touchy-feely Miles already is. “I want to kiss you,” he says softly.
“What’s stopping you?” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck.
“Um… your mother is staring at us.”
I chuckle. “We should go to your place sometime.”
He shakes his head. “My place is disgusting . And we’d have even less privacy.” I frown, but it disappears when he gives me a quick peck on the lips, then a hug. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Bye, Miles.” I watch him carry his bike down the stairs and ride away before heading inside.
Mom is in the kitchen and has the food processor in front of her. She must have made hummus—she does that about every three days. “Did I see you kissing Miles?” she asks.
I nod, swiping a cherry tomato from a basket on the counter. “He’s adorable, right?”
Mom doesn’t answer that. “I asked around about his mother.”
“You did? Why?”
She shrugs, then scoops the hummus into a plastic container. “I was curious,” Mom says.
The hummus looks different—it’s reddish in color. I take another cherry tomato and dip into it. “This is good.”
Mom smiles. “Experimenting with a new recipe—it has roasted red pepper and pomegranate molasses in it.” She scrapes the last of the hummus into the container.
“The Ismaili Muslim community is small. I wondered if I knew his parents. I don’t think I do.
You could ask your stepmother… She’s from that area. ”
I freeze. My hand is holding another tomato, hovering over the hummus.
Does Noureen know Miles’s family? I suppose it’s possible.
That thought makes me feel a little off-kilter.
Like my worlds are colliding—and not in a good way.
But Miles and Sarina have become friends.
One of them would have told me if their mothers knew each other.
“He’s not very close with his parents,” I say. “They’re separating right now and fighting a lot. He moved to the city because there was too much tension at home.”
Mom tilts her head with sympathy. “Poor kid. I like him. I think he’s good for you.”
“I think so too.” I dip another cherry tomato into the hummus. There’s no reason to have any doubts about Miles—we’re still getting to know each other. This relationship is going to be great—the fortune told me it would be, and there’s no reason not to trust a fortune from a velvet jacket.