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He's staring at me, through me. It's enough to tear me in half. I look to the ground so I don't crumble. Of course I know what he's asking. But I can't answer.
I meet his gaze. "You know enough about my feelings."
"Meg."
"I know where we stand. We're friends who have sex. Nothing more, nothing less."
He studies my expression. Finally, he releases my gaze and gets into the car.
I follow suit.
There's something different about his posture, something serious. I blink and it's gone. He's back to that old Miles, the playful one who lives to tease me.
"I'm falling behind on breaking my orgasm records," he says. "Want to change that this weekend?"
There. The Miles I understand. I nod. "My place or yours?"
"Malibu is too far. I'm taking you to Hollywood." He starts the car. "There are a few places I want to mark as ours."
* * *
Tom fixes his gaze on me, eyebrows raised. He's the picture of concern.
Miles pushes the door shut. Shoots a passive aggressive nod in Tom's direction. "What are you doing here?"
"Pete's visiting Cindy in New York. Mom has a date. Says she doesn't want me cunt-blocking her."
Miles chuckles. "Your mom is a bad ass."
Tom nods. "I'm heading back tomorrow morning." His eyes narrow. "We need to speak. Now."
"Later. I have to put Meg to bed. She's very tired."
"No. Now." He offers me an apologetic glance. "We need a little privacy."
"Don't ask my guest to acquiesce to your bullshit."
"You don't want to have this conversation in front of her," Tom says.
The smile drops off Miles's face. He's not having fun anymore, not playing around.
His voice drops. "Give us a minute."
Tom offers me an apologetic look. "We have cable. Any channel you want. Even the dirty ones."
"I'm good, thanks." The mental image of Tom watching porn on the couch is burned into my brain. Fantastic.
Miles avoids my gaze. His hands are clenched and his jaw is tight.
"My room or yours?" Tom asks.
"Yours."
They move up the stairs with heavy footsteps. Not a fun conversation, I take it. Probably about me. About that secret Tom wouldn't spill and how it spells trouble for my torrid relationship with Miles.
I bite my lip. How can this be so damn important? I take a seat on the couch, attempting to push their conversation out of mind.
It's impossible. I have to know what they're discussing.
