Chapter Thirty-One #2
The door chimed softly behind us as we stepped out of the coffee shop, fresh drinks in hand, the warmth of the cups sinking into my fingers against the morning chill. Sunny trotted ahead on her leash, tail wagging like she was leading the most important parade in the world.
Miles took a sip of his drink beside me—something caramel-y and sweet, I think. He licked his lips, made a little face.
I watched him and raised a brow. “Not good?”
He shrugged, holding it out toward me. “Too sweet for me. Here, try it, pretty boy. You’ll like this one. It screams you.”
I smirked but took the cup from him anyway, taking a cautious sip.
Oh.
He was right. Sweet, creamy, almost like dessert in a cup. Totally something I would have picked if I hadn’t been too busy panicking over which drink to order.
I gave him my own cup in exchange, watching as he tried it—a dark roast with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon. Something calmer. Less sugar.
He sipped. Blinked. Smiled.
“See?” he said, holding my cup up. “This tastes like you. Bitter and dramatic with a tiny hint of sweetness if you know where to find it.”
I gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you. I am all sweetness. Ask Sunny.”
Sunny wagged her tail at the sound of her name but was far too interested in sniffing every crack in the sidewalk to defend me.
Miles grinned. “You? Sweet? You’ve been grumbling all morning. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I rolled my eyes and took another sip of his drink—which was now totally mine, because I wasn’t giving it back. “Whatever. You’re the one who orders sad black coffee with oat milk like some brooding poet.”
He bumped my shoulder playfully. “You love it.”
“Maybe.”
We reached the little bookstore on the corner—quiet, cozy, old—one of those places that always smelled like paper and wood and time. My chest squeezed, but in the good way. I hadn’t been here in forever.
“Go on,” Miles said softly, handing me Sunny’s leash while holding the door open. “Go get your book fix, pretty boy.”
I blinked. “You sure? You’ll be bored.”
He grinned, taking Sunny’s leash back from me. “I’ve got her. You’ve got books. Win-win. Go. I like watching you nerd out anyway.”
I bit my lip to hide my smile. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm-hm. And you love it.”
I ducked into the shelves, running my fingers over the spines like old friends while Miles wandered behind with Sunny, letting her sniff gently at the corners and low shelves. She sat every time he paused, tail sweeping the floor like she was the world’s best-behaved shadow.
I peeked back at him once, watching him crouch beside her, scratching behind her ears.
“Julian,” he whispered with fake urgency, catching my eye, “I think Sunny just picked a cookbook. She’s making dinner tonight. Hope you like kibble and stolen socks.”
I laughed quietly, shaking my head. “Perfect. Finally—someone who cooks for me who isn’t you.”
He gasped dramatically, pressing his chest. “The betrayal. I slave over the stove—”
“Eggs and toast is not slaving, Miles.”
“It is when it’s for my emotionally complicated, coffee-thieving, book-hoarding boyfriend.”
I flushed hard at that word—boyfriend—but it felt right coming from him. Like slipping into soft, familiar clothes.
I turned back to the shelf, pretending to study a new romance release to hide my face.
“Hey,” Miles called gently.
I peeked over my shoulder.
“You’re cute when you blush.”
“Shut up and walk the dog, Bennett.”
He laughed—loud and bright—causing Sunny’s ears to perk.
God. My heart is stupidly full.
I let myself wander deeper into the aisles, breathing in the quiet, safe weight of books while his voice and Sunny’s happy tail thumps carried from the other side of the store.
For once...life felt normal.
And I wanted this moment to last forever.
I dragged Miles straight to the romance section. No hesitation. No shame.
Well... maybe a little shame. But only because his amused chuckle followed right behind me like Sunny’s clicking nails on the floor.
“You’re really gonna make me stand here while you look at covers of brooding men and half-naked dudes?” Miles teased softly behind me. His voice had that playful tilt—the one that made my chest feel too warm for this bookstore’s air conditioning.
I shot him a sideways glance. “I could leave you at the dog section, if you prefer. I think Sunny would appreciate it more than you.”
Miles only smiled—soft, patient—as I scanned the shelves like they were treasure chests. His fingers brushed against mine when I reached for a new release. It was stupid how much that tiny graze made my stomach flip.
“Go on. Pick your sappy book. I know you want to,” he teased.
I snorted, grabbing a thick paperback that promised angst, betrayal, and forbidden kisses. “Sappy books happen to be good for the soul. Some of us like emotions, Miles.”
“Tragic,” he murmured, plucking a book off the nearest shelf and flipping it toward me. I blinked at the title.
“Cooking for Dummies 101.”
“Thought this was more your speed.” His grin was downright sinful.
I gasped. “I start one small kitchen fire and suddenly I’m banned from using your stove forever?”
Miles didn’t miss a beat. “You tried to toast bread in a pan... without oil... or supervision. The smoke alarm cried before you did.”
I pressed the book to his chest, glaring. “You are never going to let that go, are you?”
“Not a chance, pretty boy.” He leaned closer, eyes sparkling, grin wide. “It was the most exciting breakfast of my life though.”
Despite myself, I laughed—soft but real. He beamed like he’d won some prize, and maybe he had, because the tight coil in my chest loosened just a little.
He watched me carefully as I flipped through the pages of the actual romance book I wanted, his hand sliding down to Sunny’s leash but his attention still fixed on me. Like I mattered. Like this was normal.
And for a moment... maybe it was.
“I still think you should get the dummy book,” he added with a wink. “Could save our future kitchen from disaster.”
I rolled my eyes, holding up the romance novel instead. “I’ll take my happy ending here, thanks.”
His smile softened—fond and warm in that way that always made my chest squeeze. “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.”
God help me, he means it.
Miles stood behind me in line, arms full of my books like it was nothing—like carrying six paperbacks was completely normal for a casual coffee date. His smile never wavered, not even when the stack leaned awkwardly against his chest.
“Hey,” I murmured, pretending to adjust Sunny’s leash while she sniffed curiously at a nearby basket filled with dog toys. “You know you don’t have to pay for all those, right?”
“I want to,” he replied simply, his voice low and warm by my ear. “Let me spoil you, pretty boy. You deserve it.”
I felt my face heat instantly.
Sunny nosed at a little stuffed bear—gnawed-looking, squishy, and ridiculous. Without thinking, I plucked it from the bin and added it to Miles’s pile.
“For her,” I said as casually as I could. “You were gonna buy her something anyway.”
Miles huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re probably right. She runs the house, not me.”
I smiled—real and soft. He made it so easy.
A few minutes later, we left the shop, books bagged, Sunny happily trotting along beside us with her new bear in her mouth, squeaking proudly every few steps.
The coffee shop next door had outside tables—small iron ones warmed by the sun—and Miles steered us to one tucked in the corner, away from the passing foot traffic.
He set the books on the table, pulled out my chair for me like the absolute gentleman he insisted on being, then sat beside me, shoulder brushing mine.
For a while, neither of us said anything. The day was calm, the breeze soft. Sunny settled under the table with her bear between her paws.
I fiddled with the rim of my coffee cup, staring at the slow swirl of foam inside.
“Thank you,” I said, breaking the quiet. “For today. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
Miles glanced at me, eyes warm as ever. “You deserve days like this, Jules. Days where no one’s telling you who to be. Where you get to just... be you.”
The words filled the space between us like sunlight. Gentle and safe.
I hesitated, then—quiet, almost afraid to hope—asked, “Do you think... we could have more days like this?”
His hand slid over mine on the table. His thumb traced soft circles against my knuckles, grounding and steady.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do. As many as you want. Coffee, bookstores, dog parks, road trips to nowhere. Whatever makes you smile.”
My heart squeezed, and something in my chest fluttered—hope, or maybe fear. I didn’t know which. “Even when this whole thing with Victor’s done? Even when I’m not some big-name model anymore and I’m... just me?”
Miles squeezed my hand gently. “Especially then.” His voice was firm. Sure. “I like you, Julian Vale. Not the face on the covers. Not the ‘America’s Sweetheart’ crap they make you wear. Just... you. The one who burns toast and steals my hoodies and reads romance novels like they’re oxygen.”
I let out a small, real laugh. “And you? You’re not gonna get tired of dealing with me?”
He grinned, wide and warm. “Never. You’re stuck with me, pretty boy. I hope you know that.”
I bit my lip, smile growing, heart feeling weirdly light for the first time in forever.
“Do you ever think about the future?” I asked quietly. “Like... what happens after all this is over?”
His thumb paused on my hand, then resumed its gentle circles.
“All the time,” he admitted. “I think about you waking up in my bed because you want to—not because you need to hide. I think about making breakfast for you without you burning the kitchen down.” He smirked, teasing, but then softened again.
“I think about walking Sunny with you. Maybe going on real vacations. Normal stuff. Stuff that feels like living.”
The breath caught in my throat. “That sounds... nice.”
He nudged my shoulder with his. “What about you?”
I hesitated. Then...
“I think about that, too. About not being afraid to open my phone. About not flinching every time Victor calls. About getting to hold your hand in public without worrying who sees. About being with you... like this. Every day.”
Miles was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady, warm.
“That’s not some impossible dream, Julian. We’ll get there. One day at a time. And when you get there... I’ll still be right here. With you.”
My throat tightened, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was something better. Brighter.
“Okay,” I whispered, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips. “One day at a time.”
Miles grinned. “Starting with today. Now drink your coffee, Vale, or I’m stealing it.”
I huffed a laugh and took a sip—too bitter, exactly how I liked it. Across the table, Miles was still watching me, like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
And for the first time in a long time... I believed it.