The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

And her heartbreak stemmed from the fact that she knew that the loss was permanent.

Everybody was having a marvelous time at Charity’s impromptu farewell. Laughter, drinking, fucking merriment. How could everybody be so happy about someone’s imminent departure?

Miles was trying his best to put up a merry front. He wanted Charity to understand that while he was mourning her loss in his life, he wanted her to be happy.

But it was so fucking hard when all he wanted to do was howl like a wounded beast.

He was being a selfish prick. He knew it. But he felt cheated out of days—weeks—more.

“You’d better stop this hulking and sulking in the corner, my boy. This petulance is not a good look on you.” His mother invaded the gloriously isolated corner which he had claimed for his—as she had so aptly put it—hulking and sulking. She handed him a beer, and he wrinkled his nose. He had never been much of a beer drinker. His mother, however, loved the stuff. Preferably a draught, but a bottle would do in a pinch.

She took a pull from hers, before turning her full attention on him. “The way I see it, you have two choices. Tell her how you feel about her, and let the chips fall where they may. Or let her go gracefully and be happy for her. I can’t believe she has been housekeeping for the last three years, when she’s a qualified chiropractor. It’s good that she’s finally going to answer that calling.”

“You don’t know how I feel about her. Or how I feel about this situation.”

“Please. I birthed you. And I may not have been entirely present during your childhood, but I know you. A lot better than you think I do, and it’s as clear as that oversized nose on your face. You’re so in love with that woman, you can barely see straight. And you’re miserable at the thought of losing her. What I don’t understand is why my ambitious, go-getter of a son, doesn’t…well go get her?”

“It’s complicated and messy.”

“Well, uncomplicate it, Miles. If you love the woman, figure it out. I’ve never seen you look at anybody the way you look at her. To be honest I’ve despaired of ever seeing you look at someone like that…and now that you’ve found her, you’re just letting her go?”

“She’s not mine to keep. She never has been. The best thing I can do for her is let her go.”

“Like this? With so much reluctance and surliness and moodiness? What kind of message does that send? She’s surrounded by all these people who care about her, who will miss her when she leaves. Who want her to succeed in the future, and all she can do is stare at you with her shattered heart in her eyes.”

Her words jerked Miles’s head up and he unerringly sought and found Charity. True to his mother’s words, she was watching him. Her eyes widened when he caught her staring, and she hastily looked away.

“She shattered my heart first,” he said, sounding like the petulant boy she had called him earlier. He shut his eyes and shook his head, irritated with himself for being this way.

“I’m being a prick.” It was a statement of fact, an acknowledgment of his ridiculous behavior. Not too long ago, he had promised to be her friend above all else.

And he was being a terrible fucking friend.

“Excuse me, Mum. I have to—”

“No need to explain, my boy,” his mother interrupted cheerfully, taking another swig from her beer. “Go talk to her.”

He was coming over.

Charity’s breath hitched, and her heart, which had been glumly lurking close to the vicinity of her feet all evening long, leaped back into her chest and tattooed a frantically happy beat against her ribcage. She watched him approach, unable to take her eyes off him.

He moved like a panther, sinuously, gracefully, purposefully…

Would she ever stop loving him?

He glided to a stop in front of her. His eyes boring intently into hers. With his dark brows furrowed into a glower, and his hair untamed, there was a familiar hint of wildness about him. And she found it utterly irresistible.

He held out a hand, palm up. “Dance with me?”

Her tongue was glued to the roof of her dry mouth, and she struggled to formulate her response.

It took so long, his hand started to shake, and the spark in his eyes dimmed.

“There’s no music,” she eventually managed to croak out, and his eyebrows lowered even more.

“There isn’t?” He looked confused by her statement for a moment. But then he smiled. And his face transformed from savage to drop dead gorgeous in seconds. “I always hear music when I’m with you, Charity.”

The words were cringingly sweet; but her knees went weak, and her legs turned to gelatin.