Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jif grinned at the bouquet of sunflowers in the center of her kitchen island.
As happy as the moment Miles gave them to her, their heads bobbled, all the brighter for the deep purple flowers nestled in among them.
Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it as she ran a tender finger along one of the yellow petals.
Still smiling, she drifted up the stairs to her room, then flopped back on the bed, enveloped in the euphoria of kissing Miles. And could he kiss!
She’d expected it to match his presence: warm, solid, safe.
Fireworks weren’t everything, and even if sexual tension could cover a multitude of other shortcomings, mutual attraction set a firm enough foundation, especially with the trust and vulnerability they’d already developed.
That Miles could kiss, too? She hadn’t dared hope for so much!
He wasn’t conventionally sexy. At least, not like the guys on the football team: lean and lithe and all corded muscle, or bulky but quick.
Bigger than a back but smaller than a D-man, he reminded her of a quarterback but filled out differently from years of hauling protective gear and air tanks rather than an oblong pigskin and pads.
Still, he didn’t lack in the sexiness department with those intense gray eyes, broad shoulders, and ooh, his growly voice rumbling up and down her spine.
And his whole consent thing? She didn’t think she’d find it attractive, but after the incident with Corey, she agreed with Miles. Consent was sexy! Instead of being objectified and her protests ignored, he’d asked her for permission and hadn’t made his move until she’d given it.
Her phone buzzed again and, without rising, she answered it. “What’s up?”
Colton’s voice, nearly drowned out by the raucous party around him, echoed and warped. “Where are you?”
She sat up, tucking the phone into her shoulder and unclipping the bracelet around her wrist. “I just got home. Why?”
“You already left?”
He must be at Julian’s fundraiser. She’d been invited but turned it down because she already had plans with Miles. “I didn’t go. I had a date tonight.”
“With who?”
Jif scowled. “None of your business.”
“Is it Denmark? He’s not here.”
As Colton started naming the players on his team who apparently weren’t at the event, Jif lost her patience. “Oh, my God, chill. I didn’t go out with one of your teammates.”
A cheer went up in the background, filling the silence until Colton finally replied, “You didn’t?”
“No.”
“You’re not with Blake Reynolds, are you? He’s in town for talks.”
“I’m a Raptors girl through and through. I wouldn’t date someone from a different team.” She tipped her head to the side. “Although I bet his butt would look amazing in silver instead of gold.”
“You may get your wish.” A thread of... something laced through Colton’s voice, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what. Anger, maybe?
“Did you actually need something?” She’d removed all her jewelry except her necklace, but unclasping it while on the phone wouldn’t end well.
Besides, she wanted an excuse to hang up on her brother before he brought her mood down any more.
She wanted to go to bed reliving the heated memory of Miles’s kiss.
“I need to talk to you, but if you’re not here, it’ll have to wait.”
“About what?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll call tomorrow. Maybe we can go over to Mom’s for brunch on Sunday.”
“Uh, no.” Jif shook her head. “I stopped by last week. I’m not doing brunch, no matter how strong she makes the Bloody Marys.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
The phone clicked dead, and the sudden silence after the noise of Julian’s event rang in her quiet bedroom.
She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t very late, and if the noise level gave any indication, no one would mind if she arrived fashionably tardy.
Maybe if she changed into her little navy-blue dress. ..
She shook her head. Nope. No way. She’d been on the most amazing first date, and yeah, it had its awkward moments, but they figured it out.
She and Miles didn’t always fit, not like the guys on the team, where she’d spent years learning to match them, in dress, in a perfect face and body, in conversation and expectations.
She couldn’t just turn off those tendencies, but she could be certain of one thing: you did not go out to a party after your date brought you home.
Besides, if she did, her memories of their first kiss might fade, and while she loved a good time, a quiet part of her wanted to savor the evening she’d had instead of rushing to fill the silence with the next thing, always chasing the next exciting event.
She unclasped her necklace and set it on the bedside table before closing her eyes and pressing her lips together.
There’d be other parties she could go to.
Other nights, when she and Miles wouldn’t have plans, or the charity meant something to her, or her friends wanted her to come out and have fun.
They weren’t going to disappear because she’d turned down one invitation.
And in the meantime, she’d go to bed to the phantom sensation of Miles’s lips on hers and dream about where their next kiss would take them.