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“I wanted to.” He gets up and makes his way over to me, his eyes greedily roaming up and down my body. “You look good wearing my clothes,” he says with hooded eyes.
I make my way to the door before this goes somewhere I don’t need it to go. “Thanks for the shower. I feel much better.”
“Anytime,” he says, following right behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder to give him a smile, I find his eyes locked securely on my ass and I can’t help the wide smirk that settles across my lips. “You looking at my ass, hotshot?” I joke, throwing his earlier comments right back at him.
“Fuck, yeah,” he grunts, then looks up to find my eyes. “Are you going commando?”
I can’t help but laugh as his dark eyes dance with mirth. I ignore his question, knowing it must be driving him crazy, and hold up my wet clothes. “Do you have a bag I could throw these in till I get home?”
“Yeah,” he laughs, stepping closer and placing his hand on my lower back as he leads me down the stairs. My skin burns from his touch, and I wish things could be different. That maybe I could be ready for someone like him. That maybe he wasn’t such a playboy and that maybe he wouldn’t break my heart if I gave him the chance.
Miller leads me back into the kitchen and pulls a bag out from under the sink. “Here you go,” he says, opening up the bag so I can dump the clothes in. “Do you want another drink?” he asks with a hopeful smile.
“No, thanks,” I say, taking the bag from him. “I think I’ll find Sophie and get home. I’m not really dressed for a party anymore.”
“Okay, but you’re not going to find Sophie anytime soon,” he tells me.
My brows furrow and I glance around at the guests flooding the living room. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
Miller smirks. “I saw her sneak upstairs with Tank not long ago. She’s most likely impaled on his cock right about now.”
“God, I can’t trust that girl to keep her legs closed,” I laugh as I make my way to the door.
Miller hurries behind me and catches my elbow. “Hey, where are you going?” he asks, stepping out the door with me.
I nod out toward the street. “I’m ordering an Uber.”
He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “You can stay here,” he suggests.
“Nice try, but no,” I laugh, pulling out my phone to search for the Uber app.
He pinches my phone from my fingers. “If you insist on leaving, then let me walk you home.”
“I don’t know,” I say watching him, looking for any clue that this is just another trick to get in my pants.
Miller holds up both hands in a show of innocence. “I swear, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
I narrow my eyes in suspicion. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
I watch him a moment longer before finally giving in, despite my better judgment. “Okay.”
A beaming smile crosses his face, and he instantly leads me down the path. When he doesn’t return my phone and begins playing around on it, my suspicion only grows. “What are you doing?” I ask as I attempt to grab it from his hands.
“Putting my number in your phone, so you can’t pretend you lost it,” he tells me. “And I’m sending myself a message so I’ve got your number too. You know, just in case you accidentally delete your whole contact list.”
I laugh as he passes my phone back to me. “I swear, you’ve got to be both the most confident and relentless guy I know.”
He looks down at me, his eyes softening with something I can’t quite place. “Is that a good thing?”
I study him for a moment, watching how he waits intently for my response. “Yeah, I think it is,” I tell him as the corners of his lips lift into a small, satisfied smile.
“Tell me about yourself,” he says, placing his fingers on my elbow and slowly sliding his hand down, sending goosebumps all over my skin. He laces his fingers through mine and continues walking as if he hadn’t just made a move on me.
Real smooth, Miller Cain. Real fucking smooth.
“There’s really not much to know,” I say, skipping right over the hand-holding thing because let’s face it, not only does it feel so damn good, it also feels right.
“Bullshit,” he argues. “I’ve known you less than a week and you’re already the most interesting chick I’ve met.”
“No, really. I’m an only child. I grew up in a super small town that I’m sure you’ve never heard of. I came here, fell in love with the wrong guy, and here I am now. The story of my life.”
“Tell me more about the guy. What happened to him?” I cringe away from his question and go quiet, suddenly not sure what to say. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”
