Luke
"You didn't come home last night," I said to Miles as we walked through the commons area. I looked at him closer – he had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was definitely unwashed, and his clothes were wrinkled.
"I know," he said flatly.
"And you look like hammered shit," I offered, trying to make him laugh.
"Thanks brother. I really appreciate that," he replied, unamused.
"Dude, what's going on?" I demanded.
"I didn't sleep well last night. Just leave me alone, Luke. Please," he begged, his voice hard.
I stopped walking and let him go ahead of me. It had been a long time since Miles had spoken to me harshly.
He kept walking and didn't turn around.
I was about to pull out my phone to text Brooke when she appeared next to me. "Morning love," she said, kissing my cheek.
"Good morning," I said distractedly, watching Miles make his way toward the library.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Something's going on with Miles."
"I know. Rachel called me last night – apparently she went over to his house and he was rude to her – told her to leave and everything. For literally no reason."
I narrowed my eyes and looked at her. "It can't be for no reason. Miles loves Rachel more than life itself – truthfully. Something's wrong."
Brooke swallowed. "We gotta figure out what it is."
"I concur. But for now, we have math."
"Ugh!" Brooke exclaimed, sticking her tongue out in disgust.
I closed my mouth over hers and she giggled, kissing me back.
"Come on, Kane. We only have 11 more days."
"Damnit. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm sort of sad."
Nodding, I replied, "Me too."
Rachel
I got out of the Impala in the parking lot at 7:55, barely making it in the door and to the library on time. My hair was in a high ponytail on the top of my head, and I was wearing running shorts and Miles' baseball hoodie. I hadn't even showered; I pretty much just rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, and left the house.
When I walked into the library, I saw Miles sitting at the table across from our regular seat. My eyes ran over him, and I was just a little bit pleased to see that he looked as terrible as I did.
He looked up then, his tired eyes locking on mine. It took everything in me to not walk over to him. His eyes roamed over my outfit, and when he looked at my feet, a small grin appeared on his face.
I lowered my eyebrows and glanced down. Aw hell.
In my hurry to get out of the house this morning, I hadn't bothered to remove my socks... before I slid my feet into my Nike sandals.
I stomped my foot angrily and I heard Miles snort. I looked up and he was laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.
I glared at him, trying to ignore the butterflies I felt at seeing him laugh again. I went to our regular table and threw my backpack down on the table – too hard, I guess, because Ms. Dawson glared at me.
"Sorry," I whispered, sitting down and crossing my arms.
I felt my hoodie pocket buzz and I pulled out my phone, hiding it from Ms. Dawson.
It was Miles.
Hi baby.
I'm sorry, are you talking to me?
Rachel, I'm sorry about last night.
That's not enough, Miles. I need an explanation.
I'll explain later... right now I just need to know you still love me.
I looked up at him and he was watching me. I cocked my head to the side and whispered, "Of course I love you, you dumbass."
He grinned and typed another message.
Good.
But I should be asking you that, Miles, after the way you treated me last night.
I'll never stop loving you.
Tears filled my eyes and I looked up at him, glancing at Ms. Dawson, who wasn't paying any attention to us, I picked up my backpack and stood up, sinking into the chair next to him.
He turned toward me, relief flooding his handsome features. "I'm so sorry, baby. Forgive me?"
"Of course. But you have to tell me why."
He nodded. "I will. Just not right now."
"Fair enough," I whispered, and he closed his lips over mine, not even bothering to check to see if Dawson was looking.
I scooted my chair closer to his, silent over the carpeted floor. He deepened the kiss and then broke it. "In a minute, ask to go to the bathroom... then meet me in the alcove in the back hallway."
I felt heat travel all the way through my body. "Okay."
I watched as Miles got up and approached Ms. Dawson's desk. "Ms. Dawson?" he asked.
"Yes, Mr. Jefferson?"
"Coach Wilkins just texted me and asked me to come to the baseball field. There's a reporter who wants to do a story on the State Championship game," he lied smoothly.
I bit my lip and stifled a laugh.
"Sure, go ahead. Congrats, by the way," she said, smiling.
"Thanks, Ms. Dawson. I'll be back before class is over I'm sure."
I sat and waited for a moment, and when I thought it wouldn't look totally obvious, I got up and walked to the shelf where Ms. Dawson was shelving books. "Can I use the restroom?" I held my stomach. "I've been a little sick to my stomach this morning." I knew my appearance would definitely back that up.
"Sure, Ms. Cross. Go right ahead," she said, barely glancing up at me.
"Thank you," I murmured, rushing out the door and to the back hallway.
When I rounded the corner by the alcove, Miles grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him, backing us far into the corner.
I moaned as he kissed me, running my tongue along his lips.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," he groaned, kissing me deeper, pulling me off the ground and wrapping my legs around his waist. I ran my hands through his hair, messing it up even further than it already was.
"Shhh."
He moved his lips off of mine and ran them down my neck hungrily. I leaned my head back to allow him more space. I untangled my legs and stood flat on the floor, pulling the hoodie over my head and dropping it at our feet. I was wearing a black tank top underneath with no bra.
Miles looked down at me, his eyes ravenous. "You're not wearing a bra," he murmured.
I shrugged. "I basically rolled out of bed this morning. I don't ever sleep in a bra, silly."
He pulled me to him, our chests flush against each other. "Damn," he whispered. "Tell me it's not a good idea to make love to you right here."
I slid my hands down his chest slowly, not breaking eye contact, slipping my hand down the front of his shorts. His eyes closed in pleasure.
"It's not a good idea to make love to me right here," I breathed.
"Fuck good ideas," he growled, pushing me against the wall.