Page 79 of Hidden

"Thresholds," I say. “Do you know about photography?”

“Not really, I like to know things. So, I read a book a few years ago about photography, I was bored.” He stops for a moment when I open my mouth to say something and then change my mind and close it. With a smile he says,” It’s the point where one thing becomes another. That's your concept."

I write it down before I can forget. Being this close to Miles even I know I can’t think straight. I look at the images again with the new frame and feel them all shift into something I can work with.

"What are you studying?" I ask.

"English."

I look at his two laptops. "That explains the two screens?"

"One's for the case…" He stops. "One's for the assignment. One's for reading."

I let the almost-slip go. "English explains a lot actually."

"Does it?" he asks.

I wasn’t meant to say that out loud.

"Yeah, it’s the way you talk. You say things in the exact right amount of words. Never more. Or it’s because you don’t like talking.”

The corner of his mouth curls into a smile. "Is that a compliment? I like to talk, but I think my mouth can do so many other things.” He winks, and I look away because I know I’m blushing.

I have nothing to say, mostly because I know the words won’t come out without me sounding weird.

He looks back at his screen, knowing his words have affected me. "Regionals are Saturday, right?"

"Yep, four days.” Thank God he’s changed the subject, because now I’m thinking about what he can do with his mouth.

"Floor piece ready?"

"Almost. I'm still deciding on the music. The piece I have works technically but it doesn't…" I pause, looking for the right words, and for a split second my eyes glance to his mouth. "It doesn't feel like me yet."

He's quiet for a moment. "Clair de Lune."

"The Debussy?"

"Slowed down arrangement. There's a version that runs around four minutes. The build up in the middle gives you time to breathe before the final pass." He doesn't look at me. "It would suit the way you move." I see the corner of his lips curl, even though he’s still not looking at me. “If you want to know what my mouth can do, just ask. It’s better than staring at my lips.”

"Shut up.” I playfully slap his arm. “You've watched me on the floor?"

"At the party," he says. "You were doing something in the pool area. Showing Juno a move."

I remember that, but I’m surprised he remembers it.

"I'll listen to it," I say, looking through my music and saving it. I know it’s a little late to be adding a new music piece to my routine, but the music I have at the moment just doesn't feel right, and I’m not sure why.

"Are we interrupting something interesting?" I look up from my phone and see Mason and Declan.

I still can’t believe how good looking this family is.

Miles doesn't look up from his screen. "Yes."

"Fantastic." Mason pulls a chair from the table behind us and drops into it backwards, his arms across the back. "Blake's tomorrow night. You're coming."

"I'm not."

"You are." Mason looks at me with the easy warmth he aims at everyone, yet you can see the crazy behind his eyes. This playfulness he has, I have a feeling is all show, there’s deeper something behind the look, I just can’t pinpoint it yet. "He's been in this library for approximately four hundred hours this week."