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“How about one of those depressing, but meant to be inspiring movies where the dog dies?” The look of horror on his face is exactly what I was hoping for. “Whew, you passed that test.”
He leans towards me and snatches the remote from my hand. “Don’t worry, I’m nothing if not reasonable,” he mimics.
I can’t even be irritated, because I’m still a little starstruck at having him here. How many times while writing, or reading back my novel did I wish I could see him again? Creating Cam, the love interest, was only so much of an outlet. There are just some things, somepeopleyou can’t get out of your head that easily.
I blush just thinking about it, because of course my mind goes to the inappropriate scenes I wrote with him in mind. Not the thing to be doing when he’s sitting a couple feet away, watching a movie with me. If I would have guessed we’d be here, I would’ve based the character on someone much more unreachable. There are plenty of hot, famous men I never stand a chance of meeting. Why couldn’t my inspiration have been one of them?
If I’m being painfully honest, Miles is much better looking than any of the ones that come to mind.
I watch as his arm comes up to rest on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. He seems to zone out as he rubs the throw blanket that’s draped there beneath his fingers. Whatever thought was in his head takes a few seconds to pass and give him the freedom to turn and look at it. I’ve never seen anyone stare at a blanket for so long, and I’m confused at first.
Until I’m not. It has multiple holes in it by now, lots of them from Elaine. It’s yellow and knitted, and pillingsobadly, but I just keep throwing it in the wash.
It’shisblanket, or at least it used to be. He stuck it in a box for me on the day I officially moved out of his place. I’m embarrassed to still have it, especially given its current condition. It wouldn’t have been difficult to replace the damn thing, but it comforted me. I might as well have received it as a toddler, the way I grew attached to it. It had to be with me everywhere I went, and then it found a home on this couch in this apartment a few years ago.
“I’ve kind of missed this blanket,” he says quietly. “It’s still so soft.”
“Unfortunately for you, I am unwilling to part with it.”
He smiles, but doesn’t respond. I notice he doesn’t stop touching it, though.
The remote is finally in play, and Miles starts to search, scrolling through all of the genres until he lands on horror. I keep my mouth shut, just smiling to myself. He’s not an indecisive person, which I’m grateful for, and he lands on something pretty quickly. It looks like it’s about a haunted house, but before I can finish reading the blurb, he’s asking if I’m okay with it.
“One of our residents was watching this the other day. It didn’t look so bad.”
During one of our many phone calls, I learned that Miles manages a small retirement home, and he loves what he does. It’s sweet, and it makes all kinds of sense to me. He’s always been the type to take care of others.
“Looks decent enough.”
Deciding there’s enough here that I don't have to worry about eating it all in the first half of the movie, I investigate the snack situation. A box of microwaveable popcorn, a big bag of peanut M&M’s, a bag of pretzels, and some hard ciders. It’s a little random, but they’re all things I enjoy so I choose the bag of pretzels.
“Oh, hold on,” he orders as he grabs the bag from my hand. He grabs everything else too, and makes his way to my kitchen. I whine in protest, but he just smirks. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
I watch Miles make the popcorn in the microwave. He puts it on for too long, but I notice he’s listening for the moment the popping slows down. What a skill.
He looks around my kitchen without asking for direction until he finds another big bowl to throw it into, but he doesn't stop there. He throws in the candy and the pretzels too, using his hands to mix everything together. I’m definitely intrigued.
He lifts his hands to show me a colorful, buttery, chocolate mess coating them. “This was always my favorite part.”
I am not okay with how adorable that is.
I wonder how much this grown man would hate being called that to his face. Not that I’ll ever do that, but someonereallyshould, just to see.
Once he’s done washing his hands, he plops down next to me and sets the bowl between us. I look at it curiously, not usually one for mixing sweet and salty.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had this before?”
I look at him like he’s crazy. “Kind of a specific mixture for me to have tried before.”
I go in, grabbing one of each of the ingredients. He smirks at me as he watches me pick them out. “Smart. And it’s a family thing, I thought maybe Justin had shown you.”
I shove the snack in my mouth, hoping to mask how uncomfortable it makes me to hear his brother’s name. Thankfully he’s too busy filling his own face to notice. It is pretty good, actually. It doesn’t change my stance on sweet and salty, but he looks like it’s the best thing he’s ever had in his life.
“That’s amazing,” I exaggerate. “How did you keep this from me when we were younger?”
He shrugs, but it’s not genuine nonchalance. “I didn’t make it for a long time. My first date with Kara was at the movies, and she was miserable the whole time. Complaining that she couldn’t stand the smell. It was so bad we ended up leaving before the movie was over, so I just stopped buying it after that. I didn’t want her to think my apartment smelled bad.”
Seconds pass while I wrap my head around that.
