Even after we’re back in the hotel room, sat on the couch watching New Girl re-runs, we don’t say much. When we get into the bed, practically meters separating us, our backs to each other, she finally breaks the silence.
“Do you think I’m insane?”
“What?” I ask.
“Do you think I’m insane for not believing in love? You always say that - that I’m insane. Don’t you think it’s weird that I’m scared?”
“No. I think it’s smart. Practical.”
CHAPTER 30
wren
“Surfing?” Miles asks when we’re on opposite ends of the huge couch in the hotel room. He's flicking through a list on his phone while I try to finish reading my book. Which I’ve been trying to do for the last two hours but he won’t stop bothering me.
“No,” I say again.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Maybe…?” he says, leaning over and pulling my book from my hands, grinning at me. “Come on. You’re only in Palm Springs once.”
“I could be here next week if I wanted to.”
“Right, I forgot. Scarlett said that you’ll sugar momma me if I’m good.”
“I never said I’d be bringing you along if I came back,” I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. “Do you really want to go surfing?”
He nods, suddenly excited like a puppy. “More than anything.”
“Fine but I want to be back here before lunch time.”
*
We don’t make it back before lunch time. In fact, we don’t make it back until the surf instructor has had enough of us and the sun starts to set. Miles somehow managed to rope me into surfing with him. We were both terrible at it and it only got worse when the instructor suggested we tried tandem surfing. I can't tell if I’m disgusted or impressed with Miles’ determination to actually catch a wave. We were out there for what felt like hours, sweaty, sticky, hot and every other disgusting feeling you get after being out in the sun all day.
Instead of going back to our room like I suggested so we could order room service, I’m being dragged down a street to a bar, still in my skirt cover up and bikini top while Miles is shirtless in his swim shorts.
“I need to shower properly. Please don’t tell me we’re about to eat here,” I groan, letting Miles pull my exhausted body into the near-empty bar. I take a look around and it’s a nearly deserted space with a few people scattered around and a karaoke machine in the corner. “No,” I breathe out.
“Oh yes, Wrenny,” Miles says, pulling me into the dance floor.
“Is it Opposite Day or something because it feels like you’ve been ignoring everything I’ve said no to all day,” I say and he pulls me into him. He doesn’t say anything as he winks over to someone at the bar. “Miles Middle-Name Davis, what are you doing?”
“Harlan,” he says, wrapping one arm around my waist and clasping his other hand in mine.
“What?”
“My middle name is Harlan,” he explains and I snort. “Don’t ask. I have no idea where my mom got that name from. I think she was expecting me to turn out to be some big CEO or something.”
I laugh, throwing my head back. “It’s cute. It’s giving hardcore grandpa vibes.”
“Glad to know it’s grandpa names that get you going,” he starts, spinning me out and then pulling me back into him. We’re not even dancing properly to the kind of fast paced music that is playing but it’s too fun to care. “And not my amazing looks.”
“You’re so full of yourself. You know that?” I say, laughing as he makes me spin again.
“You could be full of me too if you’re nicer to me,” he retorts and I gag. “I’m kidding. Rule number three and all that.”
