“Yep.” He grinned. “And clearly I wasn’t spending that time refining a wine palate.”
“You don’t say,” I said, thinking about how the two of us hadn’t even come close to finishing the bottle at dinner. I wasn’t a big drinker anyway, but on the rare occasion that I did have something, I was definitely more of a fruity cocktailkind of girl.
Miles pulled up in front of my building a moment later, easing into the curb.
“Well,” he said softly, glancing over. “Here we are.”
“Home sweet home,” I said lightly, thinking the run-down Victorian home that Lucy and I split with a middle-aged couple was probably a far cry from the place Miles and his pro-football-playing money called home these days.
Miles walked me up the front porch, the night air still warm against my bare arms.
“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his voice easy and sincere.
“Me too,” I said. And I meant it.
“And I’m looking forward to Saturday,” he added.
“Same,” I said. Playing his fake girlfriend at Ian and Maddie’s wedding should be fun. Even if I hoped that after tonight there might be at least a small spark that wasn’t pretend.
“I’ll pick you up a little before five,” he said. “That should give us plenty of time.”
“I’ll be ready,” I promised.
Another pause settled between us, and for a second, I wondered if he might be thinking about kissing me.
But instead of doing what I was hoping for, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me.
And the hug was nice.
Not a kiss, but still. It had been so long since I’d been held by a man I was attracted to, that I’d almost forgotten what a simple embrace could do to my nervous system.
“Thanks again for coming out with me tonight,” he said, pulling away just enough to look me in the eyes.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said automatically.
And then immediately regretted it.
It sounded lame. Like I was sixteen and needed a lift home from my brother’s friend.
Which wasn’t entirely inaccurate, considering Miles had been one of Ky’s best friends since the time they attended Eden Falls Academy together.
His mouth curved into a half-smile, like he could tell I was internally cringing and found it more endearing than awkward.
But then, before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.
“Good night, Nora,” he murmured. “Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Miles.”
He held my gaze for a second longer than necessary, then turned and headed down the stairs with his hands in his pockets. I watched until he disappeared from view before unlocking my door.
Once inside, I closed the door softly behind me, leaning back against it and exhaling as my fingers brushed the warm spot on my cheek where he’d kissed me.
Miles Hawthorne kissed me.
Not on the lips like our quick peck on New Year’s—but still. He’d chosen to do it of his own free will and choice.
I smiled, my chest feeling light. Happy.