"You're so cute," he leaves a soft kiss on my shoulder, "and beautiful," he buries his nose in my hair, planting another kiss against my neck, "and incredibly smart," he smiles against my skin, moving slightly to tilt my head, "and finally mine."
A...
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A R I A
At the moment, Miles looks scarier than any killer could be.
My first instinct should be to run, but that's not what happens. Instead, I give him a cheeky smile and stop the video. "Man, where did your shoes go?"
His eye twitches.
I try to mimick him, but I end up winking.
"Don't play dumb with me, Shortcake. I have to be out tonight and you leave me with my cleats? Do you have any idea how expensive this pair is? It's reserved for soccer, only."
Oh, those are cleats? No wonder they look sick.
"Not my problem," I shrug, sticking my tongue out at him.
Miles shoots me a glare and I return it.
"Where are the rest of my shoes, Aria?" He lifts a brow.
I shrug again and slowly make my way to the door, getting ready to bolt out of the room if I need to.
"You shouldn't have done that, Shortcake." Miles says, his voice suspiciously calm.
"You shouldn't have messed with my art, asshole." I scowl, narrowing my eyes at him.
He throws his hands up in surrender, sighing. "Fine, I admit it. It was pretty stupid, and I'm sorry. Okay?"
He doesn't sound sorry.
I shake my head at him and turn around, walking out of the room. But I still throw a few words over my shoulder, "Have fun losing your mind in the basement, Miles!"
Maybe I'll lock him in there for fun, too.
A muffled "What?!" comes from his room. I snicker and travel down the stairs in search of something to eat, but then an arm slithers around my waist and my face is pressed against a rock hard chest.
I wince and rub my nose. Gosh, what is hell is his chest made of?
"You're coming with me to get my shoes, Shortcake." He says.
I pout at him mockingly. "Aw, but why do I have to come? Is someone scared of the dark?"
Miles' eyebrows shoot up and he huffs. "No! I'm not scared of the dark, it's the gho—"
He cuts himself off when he realizes what he was just about to say. That makes me laugh and while he's distracted, I wriggle out of his grip.
"What was that, Miles? It's the what?" I smirk, having way too much fun.
He scowls and grabs my hand, forcefully taking me with him to the door of the basement. He stops in front of the door, his hand still wrapped tightly around mine. Miles gulps. I almost laugh again at seeing him in such a state. He really hates basements.
