He slides his hand around to my jaw, and his thumb meets my lip. He pulls it away from my teeth. “What did I tell you about hiding that smile?” He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites it gently, then releases it.
It feels as if the temperature in the pool just shot up twenty degrees.
His mouth meets my throat, and he breathes out a heavy sigh against my skin. I tilt my head back and let it rest against the ledge of the pool as he kisses his way down my neck.
“I don’t want to swim any more,” he says, sliding his lips from the base of my throat all the way up to my mouth again.
“Well, then, what do you want to do?” I whisper weakly.
“You,” he says without hesitation. “In my shower. From behind.”
I swallow a huge gulp of air and feel it fall all the way to the pit of my stomach. “Wow. That’s very specific.”
“And also in my bed,” he whispers. “With you on top, still soaking wet from the shower.”
I inhale sharply, and we can both hear the tremble of my breath as I exhale. “Okay,” I try to say, but his mouth is on mine before the word is even all the way out.
And once again, what should have been an eye-opening conversation for me is shoved aside to make room for the only thing he’s willing to give me.
chapter thirty
MILES
Six years earlier
We quietly walk to an empty waiting area. My father sits first, and I reluctantly sit across from him.
I wait for his confession, but he doesn’t know I don’t need it. I know about his relationship with Lisa.
I know how long it’s been going on.
“Your mother and I . . .” He’s looking at the floor.
He can’t even make eye contact with me.
“We decided to separate when you were sixteen. However, with as much as I traveled, it made financial sense for us to wait until you graduated before filing for divorce, so that’s what we decided to do.”
Sixteen?
She got sick when I was sixteen.
“We had been split up for almost a year when I met Lisa.”
He’s looking at me now. He’s being honest.
“When she found out she was sick, it was the right thing to do, Miles. She was your mother, and I wasn’t going to leave her when she needed me the most.”
My chest hurts.
“I know you’ve put two and two together,” he says. “I know you’ve done the math. I know you’ve been hating me, thinking I was having an affair while she was sick, and I hated allowing you to think that.”
“Then why did you?” I ask him. “Why did you let me think that?”
He looks at the floor again. “I don’t know,” he says. “I thought maybe there was a chance that you didn’t realize I’d been dating Lisa for longer than I let on, so I thought bringing it up would do more harm than good. I didn’t like the thought of you knowing my marriage with your mother had failed. I didn’t want you to think she died unhappy.”
“She didn’t,” I reassure him. “You were there for her, Dad. We both were.”
He appreciates that I say this, because he knows it’s true.
My mother was happy with her life.
Happy with me.
It makes me wonder if she’d be disappointed now, seeing how things have turned out.
“She would be proud of you, Miles,” he says to me. “With how you’ve handled yourself.”
I hug him.
I needed to hear that more than I knew.
chapter thirty-one
TATE
I’m trying to listen to Corbin go on about his conversation with Mom, but all I can think about is the fact that Miles is due home any minute now. It’s been ten days since he’s been home, and that’s the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other since the weeks we spent not speaking.
“Have you told Miles yet?” Corbin asks.
“Told him what?”
Corbin faces me. “That you’re moving out.” He points at the potholder on the counter next to me.
I toss him the potholder and shake my head. “I haven’t talked to him since last week. I’ll probably tell him tonight.”
Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell him I found my own apartment all week, but that would involve either calling or texting him, two things we don’t do. The only times we text each other are when we’re both home. I think we do this because it helps us maintain our boundaries.
It’s not like the move is a big deal anyway. I’m only moving a few blocks away. I found an apartment that’s closer to both work and school. It’s definitely no downtown high-rise, but I love it.
I do wonder, though, how it will affect things between Miles and me. I think that’s one of the reasons I haven’t mentioned that I was even looking for my own place. There’s a fear in the back of my mind that not being right across the hall from him will become too inconvenient, and he’ll just call off whatever is going on between us.
Corbin and I both look up as soon as the apartment door opens and there’s a quick knock on it. I glance at Corbin, and he rolls his eyes.
He’s still adapting.
Miles walks into the kitchen, and I see the smile that wants to spread across his face when he sees me, but he keeps it in check when he sees Corbin.
“What are you cooking?” Miles asks him. He leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest, but his eyes are scrolling up my legs. They pause when he sees I’m wearing a skirt, and then he smiles in my direction. Luckily, Corbin is still facing the stove.
“Dinner,” Corbin says with a clipped voice.
He takes a while to adapt.
Miles looks at me again and stares for a few silent seconds. “Hey, Tate,” he says.
I grin. “Hey.”
“How were midterms?” His eyes are everywhere on me but my face.
“Good,” I say.
He mouths, You look pretty.
I smile and wish more than anything that Corbin wasn’t standing here right now, because it’s taking all I have not to throw my arms around Miles and kiss the hell out of him.
Corbin knows why Miles is here. Miles and I just try to respect the fact that Corbin still doesn’t like what’s going on between us, so we keep it behind closed doors.
Miles is chewing on the inside of his cheek, fidgeting with his shirtsleeve, watching me. It’s quiet in the kitchen, and Corbin still hasn’t turned around to acknowledge him. Miles looks like he’s about to burst at the seams.
“Fuck it,” he says, gliding across the kitchen toward me. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, hard, in front of Corbin.
He’s kissing me.
In front of Corbin.
Don’t analyze this, Tate.
He’s pulling my hands, dragging me out of the kitchen. As far as I know, Corbin is still facing the stove, trying his best to ignore us.
Still adapting.
We get to the living room, and Miles separates his mouth from mine. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else today,” he says. “At all.”
“Me, neither.”
He pulls me by the hand toward the front door. I follow. He opens it, walks to his apartment, and pulls his keys out of his pocket. His luggage is still outside in the hallway.
“Why is your luggage out here?”