Chapter 4: Mornings, Mishaps, and Miles

Seeing Miles Carter again after so long, I made a total fool of myself. As an introvert, I couldn’t sleep all night, replaying everything in my head. In the end, I could only sigh deeply, telling myself it was nothing. Anyway, I probably wouldn’t see Miles again.

I’m from Savannah, but I went to college up in Minnesota for four years, did grad school there, worked for two. Coming back this time was partly quitting my job to try my luck back South, and partly to attend my oldest cousin’s wedding.

The house was packed with relatives, the air thick with laughter and the smell of fried chicken. My Uncle Ben’s family from the next town all came over. Derek had his own place and usually didn’t stay at home. I’d been back a week and only seen him once. Today was a big family gathering, so he had to show up. No idea how late he was out last night—his phone was off. Dad was so mad, he told me to go fetch him.

Derek’s place wasn’t far, just a twenty-minute drive. I had his fingerprint, so I unlocked the door. The smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke hit me as soon as I walked in, empty bottles littering the coffee table. I frowned and headed for the master bedroom.

The bedroom door was ajar, blackout curtains drawn tight. It was pitch black inside. I yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with light. The person on the bed unconsciously pulled the covers higher, hiding his face. Such a heavy sleeper.

I marched over to the bed, annoyed. "Get up!" I pulled the covers off in one go.

A male body, all lean muscle and way too much raw morning energy for my fragile nerves, was exposed before my eyes. My heart nearly exploded when I saw Miles Carter’s face.

For a split second, my brain short-circuited. This was every worst-case scenario and every teenage fantasy rolled into one. This was absolutely not how I’d pictured waking up my brother—especially not with his best friend in the bed. Miles looked as startled as I felt, both of us blinking in the sudden sunlight.

Miles slowly opened his eyes after I yanked the covers away. Under his messy hair, his dazed gaze cleared in seconds. We stared at each other. I very clearly saw Miles’s morning reaction.

In a flash, my face turned bright red. Miles realized too, and quickly yanked the covers back up, hiding himself.

I panicked and turned to run! But in my fluster, I backed into the dresser, knocking over an empty Red Bull can. Of course. Classic.

The sudden pain made me cry out. I squatted down, hugging my leg, gasping for air.

Miles heard the noise and sat up in bed. “Are you okay?” His voice was still hoarse from sleep. The covers slipped, revealing his sculpted chest: broad shoulders, narrow waist, perfect muscle lines. His skin was so pale, tinged with a flush of red. With that flawless face, the visual impact was even stronger than when he was lying down.

I shut my eyes, more mortified than ever, wishing I could disappear. Somewhere in the house, a dog barked, breaking the spell for just a moment—and I finally remembered to breathe.