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His eyes were still closed as he rubbed his nose along my temple and cheek. “You smell like coffee,” he murmured.
“I have some, if you want.”
“I’m not ready to wake up.” He flopped on top of me, trapping me against him, and bunched the fabric of my sweatshirt in his fist. “What is this? Too many clothes.” Then he slipped his hand under my hoodie and cami to splay his fingers wide on my stomach. That elicited a contented sigh from him. He settled even more, the loose weight of his limbs trapping me. Not that I had any intention of leaving. I liked being wrapped up in his strong limbs too much to try.
“Miles?” I whispered.
“Mmm?”
“Have you spoken to your parents lately?”
One eyelid cracked halfway. “I allow my mom two texts a week and one twenty-minute phone call.”
I’d started to laugh but cut it off when I realized he was being serious. “How did you choose that number?”
“Therapist helped me. Never knew what boundaries were before.”
“Weston’s worried she’s going to manipulate you into telling her about their wedding.”
The thing about me was I was loyal. I wasn’t going to have conversations about Miles without telling him. I might’ve been not-so-truly his, but while we were doing this, I would be on his side.
His other eyelid cracked. “She’s asked. I shut her down every time.”
“That easy?”
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him. “You really want to hear what a mama’s boy I was?”
“If we were really dating?” I scrunched my nose. “Major red flag. But since we’re faking this thing, I’m all ears.”
“I’ve been overlooked a whole hell of a lot, but my mother doted on me like I was her favorite person in the world. When my dad was shit to her, she came to me—her kid. I’m talking being nine or ten and her crying to me when he cheated or another of his companies failed or he sold her jewelry. It took some serious introspection and guidance from a professional for me to understand how absolutely fucked up it all was. She knows her crying is a trigger for me and uses it to her advantage.”
“Miles…”
I shook my head. How could anyone not see this man? Sure, Weston was a super-genius, which was great and all, but Miles was no slouch. Ridiculously handsome, he could charm the pants off a chilly nun. He wouldn’t, though, because he was a good guy. I would never excuse bullying, but at least I understood why he might’ve been so angry back then.
“You limit contact with her so she doesn’t have a chance to do the crying thing?” I guessed.
“Mmmhmm. It’s been working well, but she never fails to let me know how utterly devastated she is at not being invited to the wedding. I don’t know why she wants to be somewhere she isn’t wanted.”
I thought I did. “There will be talk if your parents aren’t there. It’ll get around. Aldrich is too big a name for it to stay secret.”
He tapped my nose. “Exactly. She’s panicking. I’m not sure my dad even remembers he has sons, much less that one is getting married.”
“Just a couple more weeks and she’ll have to find something else to complain about.” I slid my hand up his chest to cup his cheek. The scar on his eyebrow caught my eye. “The scar…that was a truth, wasn’t it?”
His eyes darted between mine before he nodded once. “I’m far too strong and buff to be a wrestler. They’d never let me on the team for fear I’d destroy them all.”
I smiled but melancholy lodged in my chest. “Anyone who doesn’t see you is really missing out.”
He was quiet for a long beat, then he wrapped me in a bone-shattering hug. “Aw, Cupcake, if you have a crush on me, just say that.”
After a long day playing on the mountain, our group was hanging out by the fire in the expansive yet somehow cozy living room. Elise had the remote, searching for a movie to watch, while we ate pizza and the remaining cupcakes and charcuterie.
Weston groaned when she paused on Beetlejuice. “Not this one. We watched it enough when you were a kid.”
Kit perked up from her spot beside Elliot. “Oh my god, I love Beetlejuice. I always wanted Lydia’s wardrobe.”
Weston smirked. “Talk to Miles about Lydia. He could write a dissertation.”
