2.8 | Miles Away

08 | eight

My mouth fell open. "You must be joking!"

"Not at all. This way, he'll have his fake girlfriend, you'll safeguard Sereinn's interests, and everyone wins."

"That's just..." I flounded for an appropriate word. This was a clever strategy, of course, but it did seem so— "...diabolical," I declared at last. "It's terribly diabolical."

Her lips twitched. "Yeah? Did Miles teach you that word?"

"Yes, he did." I let out a slow, steady breath. "He also taught me not everyone in this town is wretched, or a bully, or out to take advantage of me. And the least I could do is to give him the benefit of the doubt right now."

I stood to clear our empty cartons. But before I could leave, Jessa stopped me. "You'll get your heart broken by him, Darce."

I nodded and squeezed her arm in silent gratitude for her warning. Her intentions were well-meaning, of course, but I was nothing if not determined to see my decision through.

"With him, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

*

If the prospect of meeting Miles again left me nervous, then I was downright scared shitless when the actual night came around.

I wasn't usually this afraid—hell, nothing much ever scared me. Except for ghosts, zombies and, sometimes, my mom when she found out that I'd borrowed and ruined one of her classic novels.

I bit my lip and stared into the mirror. How did post-breakups even go? I'd only ever had the one. The rest of the boys I'd ever been with were just that: Boys. Boys whom I'd had a date or two with, but wasn't actually dating. We'd have a kiss or two at the end of the night—which, if they were lucky, would turn into a heavy makeout session—followed by an amicable parting of ways after. They were jocks, class clowns, players. They fit into every cliché I could throw their way, and it was why I went out with them.

I knew exactly what to expect.

But Miles?

Once upon a time, he'd seemed like the stereotypical good boy. He was a victim of frat hazings, a future valedictorian, the dutiful son of an influential man. But I couldn't box him into a single mold. Even back then, I'd seen glimpses of his rebellion and stubbornness. He'd defied his dad to date me, after all. In spite of everyone's expectations, he'd left the path they thought he'd travel and forged a new one. He'd dropped out of college, traveled the world, and went on to form what was now Caverly's greatest threat.

I scowled at myself and huffed out a breath. "You're being stupid, Darcy Evers," I hissed at my reflection. "It's just dinner. It's not like he's going to expect something at the end of the night—"

—although if the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn't exactly say no...

"Hey, Darce!" Ean's holler broke me out of my thoughts. "I think Miles is here!"

I let out a horrified shriek and raced to the stairs. In the living room, Ean was sprawled out on the couch, immersed in one of his many video games. We'd both chosen to stay at our parents' for the evening while they went out, which was just as well. I didn't even want to know what sort of questions Dad would ask once he saw Miles again.

Not to mention all the gushing noises Mom would make.

"Answer the door!" I hissed down at Ean. "No—wait, don't answer it! I'm not ready!"

"Make up your mind, stupid. I'm about to level up here and you're wasting my time."

I glared at him. "Let him in. And I hope your avatar dies!"

He let out a dramatic gasp, which soon turned into a real one. "What the fuck?! I hope you're happy, Darcy, you ruined my life!" He let loose a series of swear words that would've made a sailor proud (and our parents disown him), and chucked the remote down before heading to the door.

I snorted in amusement and returned to my room. I slipped on my heels, smoothed back my curls and gave my reflection one more glance. "Deep breaths, Darcy," I whispered. "It'll be fine."

Low murmurs echoed from the living room when I stepped out. I shut the door and made my way down, only to stop at the sight in front of me.

For a moment, it felt like I'd been transported back into the past. The two boys—men, now—each had a console, and were in the midst of a new game. My brother laughed in obvious glee as his avatar gave Miles's a sound beating, but Miles simply shook his head, his lips lifting in faint a smile. In spite of his pressed suit and styled hair, he looked completely in his element and utterly at home.

It's like you never left.

I must've made a sound or something, because Miles glanced over his shoulder. His eyebrows rose, and he hit the pause button on the console. "What's wrong?"

"Ignore her," Ean said. "She cries all the time. Either that, or she's on her period."

"I'm not! Not for another two weeks!" Good going, Darcy. Tell him when you're ovulating, next. A brilliant flush rose to my cheeks, and I hastily brushed my tears away. "I just—it's nothing."

Miles didn't look convinced. His eyes roved my features and, finding nothing, he frowned. "We should get going," he said, and tossed Ean the extra console. "I'll have to kick your ass another day, kid."

"Kid?! I'm twenty-one—that's only six years younger than you are!"

"And don't you forget it." Miles's lips twitched into a brief smirk, before he turned back to me. "Come on."

"Use protection, kids," Ean called after us.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed my coat and followed Miles out. "Dinner starts at eight," he told me, as we headed down the porch.

I blinked. "You said seven-thirty."

"And you're late in getting ready, as always, so we'll get there right on time."

"Oh." I couldn't believe that he still remembered how fashionably (and notoriously) late I could be. For a second or two, I simply watched him as he pulled on his coat. How could so much time have passed when it all felt the same? The butterflies in my stomach, the tightening in my chest.

When I look at you, I still have to catch my breath.

Miles stopped when he realized that I wasn't beside him. "Evers, how late do you intend to be this time?"

"I—" Nerves threatened to get the better of me again, and I smoothed my palms on my dress. "—is this okay? I've never been to one of these dinners before. I'll fit right in, won't I?"

The front porch was bright enough for me to notice his eyes darken. He glanced down, briefly, and I felt my veins ignite with liquid fire. I'd taken Brielle's advice and worn one of my best black dresses—a halter neckline with a skirt that barely grazed my knees. And if the back was opened and dipped low enough to tease...

"You look fine," he said as he looked away, and gestured to the coat in my arms. "Put that on, it's freezing out here."

I stared after him as he headed to his car, then slowly pulled my coat on. "Deep breaths, Darcy," I whispered to myself. "It's just dinner."

Wasn't it?