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“Better start reading and find out, huh?”
We sit on opposite ends of the couch with our current reads, the only sound in the room is the rain hitting the windows. It’s coming down hard out there, and there’s no better weather than this to enjoy a good book. I try to let it soothe me, hoping I can distract myself from the inevitable discomfort coming our way.
The book I’m readingdoesmanage to distract me, to the point I’m forgetting to hide my smiles and laughter. Romance always does it to me, it’s a miracle I haven’t started squealing.
I’m biting my lip in anticipation of the love interest's next move when I feel a set of eyes on me. My face drops when I look up and lock onto Miles’ piercing stare.
I don’t want to ask. If he has something to say about the book, or a suspiciously familiar character, he’ll have to offer it up himself.
I just keep looking at him. Maybe he won’t say anything if he can read my face well enough, and then I can pretend he’s not judging me. I could live with pretending.
He finally speaks when I don’t. “I see why you didn’t want me to read it.”
“Oh.”
His mouth widens into a grin. “Oh?”
I resort to looking back down at the page I was reading.
I’m definitely not able to focus on any of these words now. I can’t tell if he’s gone back to his book or not, and I’m too nervous to check. Minutes pass and I turn pages before I’m ready to. I’ll just have to go back and find the last paragraph I can remember, because I’m determined to make it look like I’m not freaking out.
Miles makes things even more difficult on me when he turns in his seated position and puts his feet up on the couch. It’s not a very long one, so he’s close to me. If I need to stretch out my legs, we’ll be touching.
It is absolutely ridiculous how much I want to, even if all I’ll feel is his jeans on my knee.
I should have known better. They weren’t lying when they said you want something more when you know you can’t have it.
I wonder if reading my book, that’sclearlyinspired by him, is considered crossing our boundaries. I wish I’d had the foresight to use that on him before he picked it out, because it’s far too late now.
“Autumn?”
I still don’t think it’s safe for me to look at him, so I don’t.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t look like you’re reading.”
“What else would I be doing?”
“I don’t know. You haven’t turned the page in awhile. It’s kind of suspicious,” he points out.
“How would you know I haven’t turned the page if you were focused on your book?” I demand.
“Touché,” is all he says before his focus leaves me again.
Ugh.
“Miles?”
He slowly lifts his head again. He’s smirking, of course. “What’s up?”
“Is there something you want to say?”
“There’s plenty I want to say, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to.” His words feel heavy in the air, being the closest we’ve come to acknowledging our boundaries today.
I set my book down, completely giving up on it for the moment “That’s not fair.”
“Lots of things aren’t fair.”
