Chapter 6 #2
Tomorrow’s conversation is going to be pure chaos.
Mindy’s incapable of giving me a normal update.
It’ll start with “Okay, Viv, you’re not ready for this but I’m telling you anyway…
” and end with way too much information about Greg’s size and something completely unhinged involving whipped cream and a lasso.
We head down the hall, away from the crowd. It’s quieter here, cooler, the low bass of the music a dull thump behind us.
My heart’s still a little jumpy, though, and I know it’s not from the dancing.
“I really am sorry about your shirt,” I say, glancing sideways at him.
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Don’t worry about it. You gave me a reason to get off the dance floor.”
I smirk. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked like you were having a great time leaning on the wall pretending not to watch me.”
He tilts his head, grinning. “Wasn’t pretending.”
And just like that, the air shifts.
Something flutters in my chest, unexpected and unwanted, and I shut it down fast.
We reach the bathroom and I push the door open, grabbing a handful of paper towels before eyeing the sad little wall-mounted dryer like it’s about to save my life.
“You’ll need to take it off,” I say, holding my hand out. “Unless you’re planning to hover under the dryer.”
He raises a brow, clearly amused. “You’re awfully eager to get me shirtless, Viv.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m trying to be helpful here, so either give me the shirt or do it yourself.”
“Fine,” he responds, smirking as he pulls the shirt over his head, smooth and effortless, and hands it to me.
I feel another flutter.
I turn quickly, eyes locked on the fabric in my hands, trying very hard not to look. Not to acknowledge the way the air thickens between us or how aware I am of him just a few feet behind me.
Still. I see it in my periphery the sharp cut of his abs, the defined chest, but it’s enough to make something tighten low in my stomach.
I grip the shirt a little tighter.
Focus, Viv.
This doesn’t mean anything.
“You’re quiet,” Miles says from behind me, his voice low.
I keep my eyes on the dryer. “Just concentrating. I take my beer-stain-removal duties very seriously.”
He steps closer. Not enough to touch, but close enough that I feel the warmth radiating off his skin.
“Why do you do that?” he asks softly.
“Do what?”
“Pull away when I get near you.”
I freeze.
It’s not accusatory. Just curious. Observant in the way that makes it impossible to lie.
I swallow hard, still facing the dryer. “I think your shirt’s dry enough now.”
“Right,” he says, voice still gentle.
I hand it over without turning around. I hear the fabric slide back over his skin, the soft rustle of him adjusting it. When I finally glance back at him, he’s just watching me with a look that isn’t pushy or expectant, just patient.
Trying to figure me out.
I inhale slowly. “Let’s get back to those two lovebirds before things get out of hand.”
Miles chuckles as he holds the door open for me.
I walk past him, feeling his eyes on me. Still quiet. Still warm.
We bump into Min and Greg out on the main floor, holding hands together.
“Viv, can I talk to you for a second?” she asks, her voice low but with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
I already know exactly where this is going.
I stop her before she can say more.
“Yes, go home with Greg, I’ll just grab a taxi,” I say, offering a teasing smile.
She pulls me into a tight hug, her voice soft but serious. “Are you sure?”
I nod and laugh, because why wouldn’t I want her to go home with him? I trust Greg, and to be honest, he needs to get laid. And if there’s one thing I know about Mindy is that she has a crazy good sex life so they’re both going to have a great time tonight.
“I love you, please text me when you get home,” she says, her grip lingering for a moment. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow,” she whispers in my ear.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” I laugh, shooing her away. “Now go have fun.”
Greg must overhear, because his voice cuts in, low, firm, and leaving no room for argument.
“Whoa, no chance in hell. You’re not getting a taxi by yourself. It’s almost two in the morning, Vivian.”
I blink, turning toward him, surprised by the edge in his tone. His arms are crossed now, expression tight, brows pulled low like he’s already imagining the worst.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, sliding my phone back into my bag. “Seriously. I’ve done it before.”
He doesn’t look convinced. At all.
So I soften my voice, add a small smile. “But thank you. For caring.”
Greg’s jaw ticks, but he gives a quiet nod. Protective big-brother energy coming out strong even if he’s not technically mine.
“It’s sweet,” I add, bumping his arm with mine. “But I promise, I’m okay.”
Greg, however, doesn’t look convinced. He grabs Miles by the arm and pulls him into the conversation. “Can you take her home?”
My eyes go wide, a little caught off guard. “No, no, I don’t want to be any trouble. I don’t live far, it’s only twenty minutes.”
Miles looks at me with that ‘I’m not going to take no for an answer’ look. “Where do you live?” he asks, his voice firm.
“242 Meadowlark Road,” I answer, a little reluctantly.
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “I live fifteen minutes from there. I’m giving you a ride.”
Before I can protest, Min and Greg are already backing away, hands still intertwined.
I point at Greg, teasing. “Good luck.”
Both of them burst into laughter, and Greg raises his hands in mock surrender. I shake my head, rolling my eyes, before facing Miles again.
“But you’ve been drinking” I fold my arms, not backing down.
“Takes a lot more than two beers and a peach shot to get me drunk.” He smirks. “Minus the one you spilled on me.”
I laugh softly at what he says and take a moment to think about this because it could be a really bad idea. Although I don’t think Greg would let him take me home if he wasn’t capable of doing so.
“Okay, fine,” I mutter.
Miles flashes a satisfied grin. He places his hand on my lower back as he guides me through the crowd, the warmth of his touch sending a strange warm feeling through me.
We make our way to the exit, and I realize I’m going to be alone with him for the next twenty minutes.