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I miss him and I hate that I do.
I hate that he’s not a total bastard after all.
I never told Kallie—and I won’t ever tell anyone—about the last night Miles and I had together. It was really special and I don’t care what anyone else says. It was the most unexplainable thing and some of the most intoxicating sex of my entire life.
Unable to think straight, I head for the bathroom and run myself a bath. Once I’m beneath the bubbles, I call him. He answers after two rings.
“Hi Mirabelle. Thanks for calling.”
“Hi. Thank you for the flowers,” I say, trying to ignore the fact his voice just made my nipples hard beneath the water.
“It’s nothing. Listen. How are you?”
“A bit tipsy. Me and a girlfriend had lunch. A long lunch.”
“Oh… a very long lunch, it sounds like.”
I giggle down the phone endlessly. “I’m in the bath.”
“Oh. Nice image.”
A silence.
“Don’t start with that again, Miles.”
“No, no, you’re right.”
“How’s everything with you, since…?”
“Don’t worry about me, all sorted.”
“Ah, good.” I suppose…
Another silence.
“I miss you,” he says.
“I miss you, too.”
He hangs up… but I understand.
I toss my phone onto the bathmat, thinking that’ll be it, when he texts after a few minutes. I have to dry my hands on the mat before picking my phone back up.
Did you mean it?he asks.
That I miss u?
Yeah.
Yeah!
I’m dealing with a lot,he says.Sorry if I abruptly rang off.
Sorry to hear that. It’s OK.
I just wanted to send you flowers, to let you know, I’m thinking of you today.
I’m thinking of u, too.
