The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 9

   Now full on cringing, I lowered the cup to his hand and forced him to grab it. "Take it. I'm going to slap myself."

   "Don't slap yourself." Still, I heaved in relief when he finally wrapped his fingers around the cup. "Thank you."

   His appreciation stopped me from abusing my face.

   I looked his way again and smiled. "No problem."

   Myles didn't take his eyes off me while he brought the cup to his mouth. The moment he took a sip, he jerked his head in surprise and lowered his head to the cup. He read the label with furrowed brows.

   "What..." He shook his head in disbelief before meeting my gaze. "How do you know my order?"

   "I, uh... remembered it? You know, after I found about about Remi, you went into a cafe and I heard you order a medium latte. You're don't seem like the type to impulsively order new drinks every time you go to a cafe, so I figured that's your regular order."

   He said nothing, but my heart thumped a little fast when I saw his expression sobering as his eyes slowly moved around me.

   We stood in silence until he took a long sip, his eyes never peeling off mine.

   "Are you sore?"

   Just like that, my cheeks burned with colour.

   Despite the initial embarrassment I felt from his question, there was a tingle of desire between my legs. I thought about what would happen if I said no, just to have sex again. To cross more things off my list.

   The idea must have made my body spiral in fear because when I shifted in my spot, I felt a sharp pain coming from my core. My grimace brought out a dark smirk from Myles. He was clearly pleased with himself.

   I opened my mouth to say... I didn't know what I was going to say. Most likely let my mouth run wild and change the topic. But I never got the chance to worsen my embarrassment because in the next second, my phone rang from my jacket pocket.

   Mumbling a quick apology, I fished out my phone and internally groaned when I read mom's contact ID. I was tempted to ignore her, but she rarely ever called, so I assumed it was something important.

   Smiling apologetically, I rushed out, "Give me a minute," before answering the call. "Hey, mom."

   Myles didn't seem impatient or annoyed. In fact, he twitched his head and kept his eyes on me, almost with curiosity. He took a long gulp of his coffee when I heard mom chirp, "Hi, sweetie. How are you doing?"

   "Good, how's your trip?"

   I fidgeted on my spot from the intensity of Myles' attention. He must have noticed by now, but he didn't shy away from watching me. Hell, he was probably hiding a satisfied smile behind the cup.

   "Good," she said almost breathlessly before swiftly adding, "I can't talk too long. Your father and I are just about to head for dinner, but I wanted to call you first to tell you we're coming back at the end of March."

   I tried to smile, but all I felt was sick. "Oh yeah?"

   "We're hoping you come by for dinner. To catch up. We actually have some exciting news to share with you!" She sounded to happy, but the idea of sitting with my parents, alone, made me want to crawl into a hole.

   Did they really want to eat dinner with me? Or did they feel like they had to, out of obligation?

   These depressive thoughts were shoved deep into my unconscious because I refused to think about how my parents might feel about me. But despite my best efforts, I knew my face expressed everything I was thinking. Myles' increasingly worrying expression confirmed that.