Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  “To solidify our ‘relationship,’ of course,” he said.

  I supposed the air quotes and playful wink were meant to downplay the overzealous vibe, but it struck me as creepy instead. I checked my phone again to see if Miles had responded to my last text before stuffing it into my suit coat pocket.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I replied.

  “Hmm. How’s your roommate? Miles, right? I was surprised to hear you two were playing house.”

  “Excuse me?” I frowned, wishing my comeback game didn’t suck.

  “Chad told me. He heard it through our friend Jackie who I assume heard it from Miles himself. I guess Andy wasn’t too happy about it,” he said, lifting his brow meaningfully.

  “About what?”

  “His ex and the former underwear model living together. I doubt Chad and he will last long. The jealous ex game is a rough one. Trust me, I’ve got personal experience there,” he huffed derisively.

  He was throwing so much at me at once, I wasn’t sure where to safely begin. If he said another word about Miles, I might give into temptation and wrap my hands around his neck. So I settled for, “How?”

  “I got dumped for a younger model. Tale as old as time. I want to claim I’m over it, but it’s a hard pill to swallow some days. You’re good for my fragile ego, though I must say, I wish you’d have told me about the roommate situation sooner. It’s the kind of thing a prospective boyfriend should know,” Tom said.

  His mildly chastising tone set off every major warning bell and siren possible. I glared at him angrily and shook my head.

  “Get this straight, Tom. We aren’t and never will be boyfriends. I don’t owe you any explanations whatsoever. And as long as I am stuck with you, I’ll ask you to never mention Miles to me again. He’s not up for discussion.”

  Tom held my gaze for a long moment then inclined his head. “As you wish. But remember, it’s important to make our ‘arrangement’ believable.”

  I snorted. “Somehow I think this charade is more in your interest than mine. I wonder why that is.”

  Tom didn’t reply, and I didn’t press. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off my watch. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from him.

  * * *

  When Miles came home Sunday night and burrowed against my side, licking my neck and slowly making his way south, I forgot why I’d been so out of sorts. And when I was buried deep inside him with his hands in my hair and legs wrapped around my lower back, driving us both to oblivion, I forgot my damn name.

  We were back to normal and yet, not really anywhere new. It frustrated the hell out of me, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I was crazy about him, and it was making me crazy. I loved the way he smelled, smiled, and the throaty way he laughed at bawdy humor. And I loved the way he danced around the house and hummed to whatever was playing on his iPhone. He brought joy and color everywhere he went.

  I thought it was funny that he hadn’t followed through with his threat to add pops of pizzazz around my place after the new year. The holidays were long gone, and he didn’t seem in a hurry to move out, but he hadn’t thrown any bright floral or wild printed pillows on the sofa or bought the blue and white striped runner he’d said would be perfect for the kitchen floor. I mentioned it one morning over coffee.

  Miles wiped his hands on one of the black and white Tom of Finland dishtowels he’d given me for Christmas then topped off our coffee before skirting the island to join me. He shifted on his barstool and peered at me over his cup.

  “I was going for unobtrusive. It’s vaguely soul-sucking to live in a monochromatic world, but this is your place, not mine,” he said before taking a sip.

  “But if it was…what would you change?”

  “Nothing. I love the furniture and the overall aesthetic. It suits you.”

  “What about you?”

  “It needs a punch of fabulous.” He set his cup down and studied me for a moment before turning toward the adjoining great room. “For starters, I’d add those blue and white Itak pillows we saw at that cute home store in the Marina on our way to Eric and Zane’s last weekend.”

  I frowned. “But this is modern furniture. Those don’t really go.”

  “I think they’d look nice. Whatever. It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m temporary. I always am.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Miles cocked his head. “It means ‘for a limited time only.’ Like a terrific sale you should take advantage of while you have a chance.”

  He winked to take the sting from his words, but it didn’t work. I felt like I’d been slapped, though I quickly realized this wasn’t about me.

  “What does ‘I always am’ mean?”

  He held my gaze then shrugged and twisted his wrist to check his watch. “Nothing. It’s nine o’clock, and I’ve got people to see and malls to cruise. Aren’t you going to sell a few multimillion-dollar palaces today?”

  “I thought you were meeting your mom for a fabulous lunch in the city.” I camped up my delivery to make him smile. I could tell his mood was slipping precariously, and I had no idea why.

  “She got a better offer,” he said quickly. “Dear ol’ Dad is coming to town. You should get ready.”

  “I have time. Why don’t you meet up with them?”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  “Parents don’t issue special invites. They just expect you to show up,” I said with a huff.

  “Not everyone’s parents are like yours, Gio.”

  “True but—”

  “Stop!”

  His outburst was so unlike him, we were both shocked into silence. I went completely still then tentatively reached out to rub his shoulder when his lower lip trembled. I wanted to wrap him in a bear hug then soothe the creases in his forehead and promise to slay whatever dragon was bothering him. Instinctively, I knew the direct approach would backfire. If I wanted to help, I had to find another way.

  I stood abruptly, gathering our coffee cups before moving into the kitchen.

  “Hey, I just poured that and…” Miles joined me at the sink and leaned against the countertop. “I’m sorry I yelled, but I’ll keel over by noon if I’m not properly caffeinated. Someone will call you to rescue me from the dressing room floor at a terribly fashionable boutique when I pass out from exertion while trying to wiggle my ass into a pair of ultra skinny jeans. Can you just picture it? I could end up on the news with my own end on display. Actually, that’s a possibility even with coffee. I should plan my underwear selection carefully in case a hunky fireman comes to—”

  “Cool it.” I opened the dishwasher and deposited both cups on the top rack, drawing out the chore to use every second to consider my approach. When I came up empty, I decided to wing it. “Take a shower and get ready. You’re mine today.”

  “Yours? I don’t think—”

  “You don’t need to think. Just do as you’re told,” I replied.

  Miles eyed me suspiciously, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He was ready to go within half an hour and other than asking where we were heading, he was quiet. That was how I knew something was wrong. Miles was never quiet. I didn’t have a plan per se, but for the first time in years, I was going to wing it. I thought about calling Zane to see if they were going out sailing today. We’d gradually started spending more time with my friends over the past couple of months as an unofficial “couple.” If I needed a date, he was my “plus one.” We didn’t discuss his seamless transition from Eric’s secretary to being my roomie-slash-lover, but it wasn’t awkward at all. If anything, it felt natural. Like Miles was supposed to be part of the picture. Zane wouldn’t think twice about rigging his boat and taking us on an impromptu sail around the Bay. But I wanted Miles to myself. Besides, while it was a nice enough day for a walk, it would be fucking freezing on the water.

  I parked my car at a lot on 4th Street and led the way up the block to Market, casting my gaze skyward at the gathering clouds. When Miles turne
d left as if to go the mall, I grasped his hand and hurried to make the light at the crosswalk.

  “Where are we going?”

  I squeezed his fingers lightly and smiled. “Nowhere in particular. We can do whatever we want but I’m not going into the office, and you’re not going to the mall. It’s a nice day and—”

  “No, it’s cloudy, cold, and it looks like rain but go ahead…you were saying?” he snarked.

  “I was saying…we’re going to have fun.”

  “We could have had fun at home in bed, you know,” he pouted.

  “Later. I know this is an unconventional date but just…humor me.”

  Miles opened and closed his mouth twice. “Date?”

  “Yeah, a date, Ding Dong.”

  “But we don’t…we don’t date,” he said in a small voice I might not have heard if I wasn’t standing next to him.

  “Today we do.”

  There was no rhyme or rhythm to the day. We poked through vintage stores then wandered through Chinatown before eventually making our way to the Wharf. It was tourist central, even on a cool day in January. Pedestrians stopped at random intervals on crowded sidewalks to take photos of San Francisco’s impressive sights. I expected Miles to suggest we turn around when we neared the Bay, but he didn’t. He seemed content to meander with no real destination or purpose. His dark mood lifted as we continued to walk.

  By the time we reached The Embarcadero, he was wide-eyed with silly excitement, and he spoke so fast it was hard to keep up with him.

  “Let’s see if the sea lions are there. I love the sea lions. They’re huge and smelly but they’re regal too, don’t you think? My dad brought me here once when I was little. We played tourist for a day. I’ll never forget it. We rode the cable car, took a ferry to Alcatraz, watched the sea lions, and went to the arcade. It might be my favorite kid memory,” he said, guiding us past the bevy of sailboats in the harbor.

  “Really?”

  He stopped when we reached the end of the pathway and moved to the far end of the railing. We were able to avoid the crowd and still watch the few dozen lazy sea lions lying on the docks below.

  “Sure! What’s not to love? This is the best city in the world. I always knew I wanted to live here.”

  “What took you so long to move?”

  “Life got in the way.” Miles leaned his elbows on the rail and stared at the turbulent gray water of the Bay before turning to face me with a radiant smile. “I didn’t want to leave my mom right away, even though Fresno wasn’t in my long-term. She needed me around, and then I met the ex when I moved to Silicon Valley and…well, you know the rest. Sometimes I wish I was more like my dad. Wouldn’t it be nice to just follow your heart and go? Having a conscience is no fun,” he lamented.

  I chuckled at his dramatic sigh and put my arm over his shoulders then kissed his cold cheek. “Are you saying your dad has no conscience?”

  “None whatsoever. My parents have the weirdest relationship. They’re not married, you know. Did I tell you that?”

  “They’re divorced?”

  “No. They never married at all. Surprised the hell out of me when I found out. I don’t know why it bothered me, but it did. I protested by changing my name to Buddy Chillman. That phase lasted about a year,” he said with a laugh. “I wrote it on all of my class assignments, much to my first grade teacher’s chagrin.”

  “Buddy Chillman?” I repeated with a half laugh.

  “Yeah. My mom asked that too. I told her that’s what Dad always said when I asked why they weren’t married and I didn’t have his name. ‘Hey buddy, chill man,’ ” he affected in a laid-back tone.

  I threw my head back and guffawed. “That’s kind of genius.”

  Miles snorted. “I know. He thought it was funny but…not funny enough to do anything about it.”

  “Lots of people don’t share their parents’ names, Mi.”

  “Maybe so. A name doesn’t make a family. I know that. But I hoped it would make me feel like I belonged to him. Our unit of three was more like separate twosomes.…Mom and Dad and Mom and me.”

  “Is it still that way?” I asked with a frown.

  “Yep. I haven’t seen my father in a while, and I honestly don’t care. Mom sees him. That’s what matters.” He pointed at a particularly large sea lion clearing space in the middle of the pack. “Don’t get me wrong. I like my dad. We just don’t have a real relationship. We’re strangers who see each other every other year and have to ask basic get-to-know-you questions to get reacquainted. If Mom wasn’t around, we wouldn’t bother.”

  “What’s their story? Why didn’t they marry?”

  Miles slipped his sunglasses down his nose, diva-style, and shot a crooked grin at me that went nowhere near his eyes. “He was already married. I’m a love child.”

  I don’t know why, but I was stunned. His dramatic delivery probably had something to do with my reaction. It took me a few seconds to respond. “Oh.”

  He huffed derisively and pushed his glasses on before turning back to gaze at the sea lions.

  “Yeah. Exactly. ‘Oh.’ He has a whole other family somewhere in Vermont. I didn’t find out about them until I was in high school and…it crushed me. I thought they were unconventional parents who loved each other but didn’t feel the need for marriage. I learned to accept it and eventually even admire that they did things their own way. That wasn’t the case at all.”

  I rubbed his back unconsciously and studied his profile. “How’d you find out?”

  “I Googled him,” he said matter-of-factly. “The trucker with an inconvenient route story seemed a little stale. But kids tend to hold on to their heroes for as long as possible, so I set aside my angst. I had enough going on anyway. I was blossoming into a unicorn at warp speed and navigating my rainbow self was alternately fascinating and challenging. I had no time to worry about an absentee parent. But one day, my curiosity got the better of me.

  “Mom told me she was meeting Dad in the city and though I really didn’t care, I asked why he wasn’t coming to see me too. She made up an excuse about Fresno being outside of his route. I’ll never forget the weird-ass staring contest we had after that. She wanted me to believe her, and I wanted her to know I didn’t. The second that door slammed shut, I closed my porn browser and Googled Jason Mulroney and within fifteen minutes, I’d discovered Dad was married and get this—he had three other kids.” Miles gave me an incredulous look. “I have a half brother and two sisters out there. And they’re my age!”

  “That…sucks,” I said lamely. “What did you do?”

  “I cried. I stared at that screen in disbelief with tears streaming down my cheeks like a heroine in a love story gone astray. I was devastated. Everything I craved and couldn’t put a name on was right there…taunting me from cyberspace. Or an idyllic version anyway. Two parents, brother, sisters. A real family.”

  “Did you confront her?”

  “Hell, yes! I couldn’t wait for her to get home. I went from sad and despondent to pissed off and back again at least four times before her car rolled into the driveway. At least she didn’t lie,” he sighed. “That would have really crushed me. She told me everything. They met at a honky-tonk trucker bar and started an affair that’s still going on. The thing is…I tried to hate him, but I couldn’t make it stick. She loves him so much that she’s willing to settle for whatever he says he can give. No questions. The judgy part of me finds it very…yucky.”

  “Yucky?”

  “I can’t think of a better adjective. What do you say when you love someone, but you hate their choices? And worse yet, you’re afraid of accidentally following in their footsteps?”

  “That’s not you, Mi.”

  “No, but it almost was,” he scoffed. “I loved Andy for so long that I willfully overlooked the glaring signs that something was wrong. I got comfortable and complacent and when I felt it slipping, I clung like crazy. He was my ticket to creating a real family…two dads, kids, the works. I though
t he was my superhero, but he turned out to be a lover I outgrew. It freaks me out to think I settled for ‘just okay’ for as long as I did.”

  I hugged him to my side when he shuddered theatrically. “You’re your own superhero now, Mi.”

  He beamed at me then laid his head on my shoulder. “You know what I think is funny?”

  “What?” I asked, absently pressing a kiss to his temple.

  “You and I are opposites. You like quiet and order, and I thrive on chaos. I want everything you have and more. The boisterous family with the ancient traditions and food for days. I can’t even watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding without getting jealous. And that’s your real life.”

  “Times ten,” I agreed with a half laugh.

  Miles chuckled. “Humans are a mystery. Why are we never happy with what we have?”

  I lowered my hand to his waist and hooked my fingers through his belt loop. “We don’t see well. We don’t know when to speak and when to listen. We don’t understand the nuances in taste and touch. Take your pick.”

  “Mmm. Personally, I think we rely too heavily on looks. Physical appearances and perceived appearances. It takes patience and effort to really see the person under skin and bones. The scars and insecurities. To sift through their baggage while they do the same to you and cross your fingers, hoping like mad that you pass the test. It’s so…hard.”

  “I’ve heard if you find the right partner it’s worth it,” I said softly.

  Miles sighed and leaned heavily against my side. We fell silent for a moment, letting the squawk of seagulls and the medley of tourists’ voices mix with the occasional bark of a sea lion. We were part of a crowd and yet separate enough to hear our own thoughts.

  “Thank you for today,” he said after awhile.

  “I didn’t do anything special.”

  “Sure you did. You took me on a date.”

  “It wasn’t a real date. I can do better,” I assured him with a wry grin.

  “No complaints here. Oh, except you made me walk three miles and—”

  “Hey, at least I avoided the steeper streets.”