Chapter 32
Vivian
It’s Thursday after lunch and I’m at work with Greg, his voice filling the space as he catches me up on how things have been between him and Mindy.
So far, it’s been all sex, but there’s an easy kind of contentment there.
For now, it works. No strings, no expectations. At least, that’s what Greg tells me.
But I can see it, the slight softness in his voice when he talks about her, the way his eyes linger on his phone a little too long when her name pops up. So, yeah. It’s fine now, but it won’t be forever. Feelings always find a way to sneak in, even in the most casual situations.
Greg turns on the TV, and I glance up, not expecting much, but then I see the meeting on the screen.
And there he is, Miles. He’s sitting at one side of a long polished conference table, his jaw tight, his focus sharp, but there’s something in the way he carries himself, something grounded, calm, that makes him stand out from the rest.
Noah Montero is on the other side, his posture a little too confident for my liking.
Noah is an attractive guy—blond hair, sharp jaw, the kind of man women fawn over.
And he knows it. I mean, the guy’s got a personality that’s just as slick as his looks, which makes him as repulsive as he is charming.
And somehow, the women who fall for his bullshit end up with him in their beds, as if they’ve just ignored all the red flags.
But Miles? Miles doesn’t need to flaunt anything.
He doesn’t need to prove he’s got it. I’ve seen him with his guard down, talking to Riley, walking into my house soaked, wearing the oversized shirt I lent him, all to stay by my side for a little longer.
The memory of how he carried me up to my room after I fell asleep on the couch lingers, warm in my chest. I woke up the next morning to an empty bed, just the faint scent of him still on the pillow, and a text.
Miles: I didn’t want to wake you. I had a great time with you both, see you soon Bambi
A small smile plays on my lips as I finish cleaning the cups, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. But my attention snaps back to the TV when Greg turns the volume up, and I hear Miles’s voice clear through the speakers, calm and steady, answering question after question without hesitation.
He’s wearing a button-up shirt, well-fitted, showing off the muscles in his arms. His hair is just a bit unruly, falling into his eyes in that way that only adds to his appeal.
His broad shoulders fill the space of the room, but there’s a certain vulnerability in his posture, a kind of quiet power that demands respect without saying a word.
Miles is different, and I can’t help but notice how much more real he is compared to the slick corporate types across from him.
They’re grilling him now, questions about the business, the competition, the future, but he answers them all with a patient calm.
He takes his time, weighing his words, never rushing, and I can’t help but admire how effortlessly he commands respect in a room full of people trying to make him stumble.
I lean against the counter, focusing on him, my fingers moving absentmindedly as I clean, watching as his eyes flicker with concentration. There’s an intensity there, a quiet fire burning in his gaze when he talks about what he loves.
“Turn it up a bit more,” I say, my voice soft but insistent, almost like I can’t get enough of watching him.
Greg doesn’t hesitate. He knows I’m captivated.
As the questions continue, I watch Noah try to slip in with one of his signature lines, probably trying to challenge Miles, but he’s met with a subtle smile from Miles; a smile that says I see through you, before Miles answers, his voice smooth but firm.
There’s a coolness to him that Noah could never replicate, no matter how hard he tries.
Miles has this…honesty. Something real. Not that I know him well enough to fully trust it, but damn if it doesn’t make him stand out.
“Don’t get too cocky, man,” Greg mutters, obviously not too fond of Noah either, as he shifts in his chair.
I catch a glimpse of Greg’s attention now drifting back to the screen, his eyes fixed on the competition between the two men.
I can see the edge of his competitive nature flare up as he watches Miles, especially now that we both know the tension that’s been building between us.
The whole room feels heavier, charged with something unspoken as the camera zooms in on Miles’s face, and I swear my heart skips a beat. I can’t stop watching him. And the worst part? He’s still completely unaware of how much of an effect he’s having on me.
His answers continue, but the focus on him, the way his presence fills the room, hits me like a wave. I can almost feel the weight of his eyes on me even through the screen, and it makes my pulse quicken.
“So, you ready to tell me what’s going on with you both?” Greg asks, his voice calm but with that teasing edge he gets when he knows something I don’t. He’s handing me a drying towel, his expression light but his eyes sharp, as if he’s been watching me more closely than I’ve realized.
I freeze for just a second. What are we exactly? How do I even begin to explain it? It’s not something I’ve figured out yet.
“Greg…” I start, but he cuts me off before I can say more, sensing the hesitation in my voice.
“Listen,” he says, sighing like he’s been holding something in for too long.
“At first, I thought he’d hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen, Viv.
” His words hang in the air, heavy with concern.
He’s always been like a big brother to me, protective in that way that sometimes makes me want to argue with him but also appreciate it at the same time.
“I thought he’d come in, mess things up, and leave, like he’s done before. ”
I feel a weight settle in my chest. He’s talking about Miles. And what Greg said, it resonates with me. That was my biggest fear too. That I’d let my guard down, get too attached, only for Miles to walk away when things got complicated.
I look down at the glass in my hand, my fingers tightening around it. I polish it a little more than necessary, stalling, trying to make sense of the pounding in my chest.
“But I was wrong.” Greg’s voice softens, and I glance up, meeting his gaze.
He’s looking at me like he means every word he’s about to say.
“I spoke to him after the lake,” he continues, his voice quieter now.
“Told him to stay away, to back off. I thought he was just going to mess around and leave you broken.”
He picks up another glass, his hands moving smoothly, but his eyes never leave me. I hold my breath, waiting for what comes next.
Greg scoffs, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “But…he told me everything. How he’s tried to stay away from you, but he just can’t.” He pauses, a sort of disbelief in his tone. “And the way he spoke about you, Viv…it was different. He told me what he loves about you. All of it.”
I feel my heart skip a beat. What’s he saying? What exactly did Miles say? I try to swallow, but my mouth feels dry, my pulse racing with every word Greg says.
“I’ve never heard him speak about any woman the way he speaks about you,” Greg adds, his voice sincere now. He grabs my arm gently, giving me a soft, almost reluctant look. “I’m trusting him, Viv. He’s changed. As crazy as it sounds.”
I don’t know if I can explain the wave of emotions that crashes over me. Part of me still feels like I’m dreaming, like this can’t be real. Miles—Miles, the guy who everyone knows as the town’s playboy, a bull rider with a reputation for breaking hearts—has actually changed? For me?
I smile and I can feel my cheeks warm. It’s silly, really. Why does this affect me so much? Why does hearing that Miles has talked about me like that make my stomach flip and my heart race?
Greg chuckles softly, clearly seeing my reaction. “I didn’t think it was possible for him to change, not like this…but he has.”
I let out a breath, trying to steady myself.
I think of the moments we’ve shared—his quiet glances, the way he’s held me, the way he’s been there, just there.
All of it. It feels so different than what I’d imagined.
The fear of getting hurt, of opening up too much, of losing control—it was all still there, but now it feels a little more manageable, a little less suffocating.
Greg’s gaze softens as he sees the smile on my face. “He really likes you,” he finishes off, his words landing heavy, yet comforting.
I close my eyes for a second, absorbing the weight of it all. I didn’t think I was ready to hear this, but hearing it from Greg, of all people, feels like a validation of what I’ve been avoiding.
“You’re good with him, Greg,” I finally whisper, my voice quieter than usual, unsure if I’m ready to admit how much his words mean, but knowing that this is one of those rare moments where everything feels right.
Greg nods, his smile warm and knowing.
And just like that, I realize something. For the first time in a long while, I’m not running from anything. Not the past. Not the fear of being hurt. Not Miles.
I’m standing here, in this moment, grounded in a way I never thought possible. And maybe, just maybe, for the first time, I’m ready to see where this goes.
* * *
“Girls?” I shout as I walk in the front door, my work shoes still on my feet, but I kick them off straight away once I enter the hallway. Mindy took over today to babysit Riley, so I’m curious what they’ve been up to while I’ve been at work.
“Mindy? Riley? Where are—” I’m cut off mid-sentence when I round the corner, and bam, I jump, startled by the sudden shout.
“Surprise!” they both yell in unison, Mindy holding a tray of cupcakes in her hands, the smell of vanilla and frosting wafting toward me.
I press my hand to my chest, laughing in surprise. “Oh my god!” I exclaim, still catching my breath. “You scared me!”