30
─── • ───
ISABELLA
Like every other time I spent the night at Miles' apartment, I wake and roll over, excited to see his sleeping face. But this morning, I end up frowning because the bed is empty.
I was hoping he was asleep so I could see his adorable face pressed against his pillow, as well as his nakedness. My smile which appeared from the thought of Miles fades fast as a shrieking alarm sounds through the apartment.
I jump out of bed and grab the first clothing item I see—Miles' t-shirt—and sprint out of the room.
"Miles?" I shout. The blaring stops when I reach the living room, and I see a cloud of smoke and Miles in boxers opening up all the deck doors. He is waving what looks to be a flimsy cutting board in the air, trying to clear out the smoke.
My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Miles, is everything okay?"
His head whirls over to me whilst he continues waving the cutting board. "Hey! I was trying to cook us breakfast." He worriedly looks back at the kitchen. "I don't know how this happened. I was trying to cook breakfast and the fire alarm went off!"
I try to contain my laughter, but my smile does that for me. "As long as you're alright, that's all that matters."
"I'm fine." He sets the board down and sits in a chair when the smoke disappears.
I saunter over to him and pull his head into my stomach, giggling. He wraps his arms around me, and I kiss his head. "What did you even do to cause all this smoke?"
"I don't even know, I just put the bacon in the oven and boom! I almost blew us up."
I pull away, walking over to the kitchen. I make sure I turn the oven off and then pour us each a cup of coffee. "Well, you didn't. Now let's go drink these on the deck because it stinks in here," I say, handing him his mug.
We both get up and walk out, perching ourselves on the couch. It's a beautiful morning, the sun has risen fully in the sky and it's a comfortable temperature.
"So how did you sleep?" he questions, rubbing my knee.
"Good." I smile. "How did you sleep?"
"Perfect." He smiles back. "Since neither of us has class today, I was thinking we could do something fun."
"Like what?"
"I may or may not have bought us tickets to the new art museum in the city," he says, and my eyes grow wide as he materializes two printed tickets. A tiny, excited gasp escapes my lips as I take them from his hand.
"You didn't! I've heard such amazing things about this place," I say, and then lean in to kiss him. "Thank you."
I dash downstairs to my apartment to change into something more presentable, and when Miles and I meet in the parking lot of the apartment complex, I smile. He is standing at the passenger side of his car. When he sees me, he bows his head slightly and opens the door. "Miss," he says, and I laugh.
"Thank you, sir. You look quite handsome," I reply.
"Are you hitting on your chauffeur?"
"No, that would be inappropriate."
"You're right, it would be," he says, climbing into the driver's seat. The moment he starts the car, his hand slowly trails up my knee and grips my thigh.
I bite the inside of my cheek. "Do you mind?"
He looks down at his hand placement and then moves further up my thigh, causing my breathing to hitch. I notice the corner of his mouth turn upward in triumph. His touch causes memories from the roof-top to flood back into my mind. I think of how gently Miles touched me, how every kiss he placed on my body was filled with love.
"I don't," he says, and I laugh.
After fifteen minutes of Miles teasing me and us singing, we pull into the parking lot of the museum. The building looks like a worn-down warehouse on the outside, but the second we step foot inside, my mouth falls in awe.
"This is insane," I say, observing the enormous sculptures. The ceiling light hits each piece of art perfectly as if it was a part of the exhibition too. The metal piece forms a flower, even though the closer you get, the more you see it's made of scraps.
"Each room has a different theme," Miles says. "We have to make our way through each. Some of the entrances are hidden."
"This doorway is pretty obvious." I point to the enormous archway that leads into the next exhibit. Miles laces his fingers with mine, and we enter. There aren't many people here, most likely because it's a weekday and they're at work. So, the building is oddly silent, and all you can hear is the clicking of Miles' and my footsteps.
In the center of the next room stands a large, sculpted tree, and projected on the surrounding walls is a sunset over vast grassy hills. The sound of cicadas and the rustling of leaves in the wind echoes throughout the room, and it sounds like summer.
"Oh, this is so beautiful," I say and close my eyes, pretending it is summer-time and I'm sitting under a tree with a book. I feel a hand brush my cheek, and I open my eyes to find Miles tucking my hair behind my ear. His hand lingers over my cheek, but he says nothing.
After walking through two more exhibits, we enter a pitch-black room. Miles pulls me closer to his body, which makes me laugh, and I squeeze his hand. As we continue further into the room, I feel something click beneath our feet. Suddenly, tiny blue, green, and white lights illuminate the room. The walls—which are made of mirrors and look to continue down a hall and form a maze—reflect the specks, and it looks as if we're standing in the center of a galaxy.
Laughter laced with awe bubbles out of me. "This is one hell of an art museum."
"I'd say," Miles says.
We follow the mirrored maze, gazing as the lights shift around us until we hit a dead end. "Oh gosh, we must've made a wrong turn." I walk back from where we came from, but Miles gently grips my forearm.
I glance at him but refrain from speaking. His hand slides to the small of my back, where he pulls me tightly against his chest. My breathing hastens, and my back softly meets the wall. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and he quickly leans in to kiss it.
"We're going to get caught," I say under a hushed breath as he pulls away.
"I don't care," he says against my mouth. "Do you?"
I shake my head. He looks into my eyes before reconnecting our lips. It starts off slow, but it progressively gets quicker, most likely from how turned on I am. His free hand squeezes my side and slowly inches upward until he is at the side of my breast.
"Miles," I breathe, but instead of him replying, his tongue parts my lips to deepen our kiss. My stomach somersaults, and I fist my hand through his hair to relieve my eagerness. A groan slips from Miles' mouth into the quiet space and I chuckle.
"You really had to start this here, didn't you?" I say, and his beautiful smile appears.
He strokes the side of my cheek. "Sorry, beautiful."
I step away from the wall, out of his grasp, but keep our hands locked. "We still have a lot left to see."
"We should get a move on then."
The rest of the day goes faster than I'd like, but Miles and I had an amazing time. And by the time we sit down for dinner in his apartment, it is dark. "I can't wait for summer with you," I say, picking at my takeout French fries.
"I think you may get tired of me," he says.
"Tired of you? That's a new one. Usually, you're like 'who could ever get tired of me? I'm Miles Cunningham.'" I mock him and he tosses a fry at me, but I pick it up and eat it.
"Very funny, Isabella. There are a bunch of places we could visit."
I squeal in excitement. "Should we be cliché and make a bucket list?"
He smiles. "I don't see why not?"
I grab a piece of paper and a pencil from my backpack, and Miles turns down the music we were playing. He brings his chair closer to mine, so our shoulders press together, and rests his chin on my shoulder.
"Camping," he says first.
"Camping?" I write.
"Yes, you and me under the stars," he nestles his nose into my neck, "having sex," he whispers, and I burst out laughing. I turn my head and our noses brush past one another.
"Is that all you want from me?"
He narrows his eyes. "Definitely not. But for someone who just lost their virginity, you're a pro in bed."
My mouth falls open and I whack his arm playfully.
"It's true! I've never had that great of a blo—" he tries saying, but I don't let him finish. I shove the last couple of fries into his mouth and he wiggles his eyebrows.
"How about a vacation with just you and me?"
"Yes. Anywhere we want to go, we'll go," he adds. "Cookout with friends?"
"We'll need to learn how to barbecue first, but yes."
"What about the drive-in?"
"Oh yes, the perfect atmosphere for car sex."
My eyes widen. "Is something on your mind?"
"I have blue balls from the museum," he says as a matter of fact, and I bite my lip to stifle laughter. But I refrain from acknowledging his comment; instead, I trace my hand up his thigh, trying to tease him as much as possible.
"A baking day, we can make a homemade cheesecake!" I say, trailing further up his leg.
"That sounds delicious." He tries pulling my chair closer even though it is as close as it can go.
"Amusement park?"
"Yes." He slips his hands under my knees and attempts to lift me onto his lap. I can't stop the laughter from pouring out of me as his hands wrap around my body. "Continue, please."
"Bicycle ride?"
"My ass will hurt afterward, but yes." He kisses the back of my neck.
"Okay, your turn to think of something, mister."
He ponders for a moment while bouncing me a couple of times on his knee. "Just spending time with you."
I turn my head and smile. My heart races as his eyes search my face before leaning forward to connect our lips. I wiggle around until I'm in a better position with one leg on each side of his torso.
His hand strokes down my spine, and then he tenderly grips the back of my neck. Every feeling I have for Miles overwhelms and excites me. He is gentle, all while making me feel like I am on fire, in the most sensual way possible.
He stands up from the dining room chair, with me in his arms and walks toward the couch. My back meets the soft cushions, and he hovers over top of me. I'm expecting him to continue kissing me, but he says, "You'd let me know if I am overbearing, right?"
My brows furrow and I caress his face. "Of course, I would. Why? Do you feel you're overbearing?"
"I don't know, but I don't want you to think I'm with you for sex."
My expression softens and I can't prevent a lax smile from forming on my face. "Miles, I know you aren't with me for that," I say and notice his body relax. "I joke around with you just like you joke around with me. Now, kiss me."
His beautiful smile reappears, and he obliges my command.
━━━─── • ───━━━
QOTD: What would be number one on your bucketlist?
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
INSTAGRAM & TWITTER: annasteffeyy
vote • comment • follow
Thanks for reading ♡
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝