Page 14 of Tempting Miles
Longing.
That can’t be right.
I’ve never seen Easton as anything other than one of my best friends.
Am I imagining it?
Neither of us looks away, and the air between us turns heavy.
“Yeah, missing the family can be a real bitch,” I say lightly, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.
“No kidding. The older I get, the more I realize what actually matters.” His eyes stay on me for a beat longer, but whatever was there a second ago is gone, replaced by the easygoing Easton I know.
Phew. What a relief.
“What about you, Pens? Still working with that foreign billionaire?”
Even though he asks with a smile, a flicker of uneasiness settles in my chest.
“Yup, I love working with Gio. He’s an amazing guy. Funny how that doesn't change just because he's 'foreign,'” I say, my tone cold and sharp, my words short. If he thinks he can come and say Gio is less than because he’s from a different country, he can crawl his ass back to London. No one gets to talk bad about him. Not even Easton.
“I meant no offense, Pens. I apologize if it came out that way. I was just asking because I have a proposal for you.”
One of his brows arches as his charming smile widens, and my heart starts racing.
Oh God.
Is he talking about a relationship-type proposal?
Easton is objectively an attractive guy—tall, with a lean but muscular build, short sandy-blond hair, and dark blue eyes.
But he’s just not my type.
I’ve never felt anything other than brotherly love for him.
My phone lights up and starts vibrating on the bar, Carly’s face flashing across the screen.
I smile and lift my index finger, letting Easton know I’ll be back in a second.
“Hey, bitch. You can’t drop that bomb on us and then ignore us,” Carly says, and I laugh.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, moving away from the bar and toward the door.
“Un-fucking-believable.” She huffs. “You told us why you feel lonely, we all texted, and you never replied.”
Crap, that’s right. I completely forgot I was chatting with them before Easton showed up.
“I’m sorry. I just met a friend I haven’t seen in a long time and didn’t check my phone,” I say.
“Is this afriendfriend? Or a friend-with-benefits?”
“Mia? Is that you?” I ask, surprised.
“Yes! Carly, Daisy, and I are on our way to Charlotte,” she says, like it’s not a big deal.
But I’ve never really had this kind of friendship before. Real girlfriends. I’ve always felt more comfortable around men than women. Girls could be mean growing up, and I dealt with more bullying than any kid should have to. Somewhere along the way, becoming “one of the guys” felt safer than risking becoming the target again.
Having women who genuinely show up for me still feels a little surreal.
