"So you can flirt with the employee?"
He trails his fingers over the edge of my cardigan than over my skin. "I only flirt with you." His hand slides to my lower back. "I just don't want to subject anyone else to your hunger-induced mood."
"Maybe my mood is bullshit induced."
"Only one way to find out." He steps up to the register. Plants his palms flat and leans in towards the employee like he's about to share a secret. "Black coffee for me. Large. And for my friend—" He motions to me.
"Large latte. Extra shot."
"And," Miles says.
"One of the egg sandwiches. The one with spinach."
The girl nods. She stares adoringly at Miles. "I love Sinful Serenade."
He winks at her. "Thanks, honey."
"Would you sign something?" Her eyes go wide. She reaches under the counter and hands him a marker.
He nods, signs a napkin, and hands it back to her.
I flop on one of the cushy armchairs and check my phone. Nothing but a text from my mom to drive safely. Everyone else is far, far away. Kara is in San Francisco. I text her Happy Thanksgiving.
Miles slides into the cushy chair next to mine. He hands me my drink and my egg sandwich.
His expression is attentive. What the hell do I do with that?
I get up for sugar and a wooden stir stick. I can feel his eyes on me as I fix my drink. It's good. Sweet and creamy and incredibly full of caffeine.
Deep breath. I return to my seat with grace. I'm calm. I'm going to make the most of things.
My eyes meet his. "Why did you really invite yourself home with me?"
"The answer to that question is self-evident."
"Jesus, I forgot you were going to be a lawyer." I take another sip. More sweet, sweet caffeine. How did people live before caffeine? It must've been hell.
"I want to help you. With your parents."
"Wouldn't you rather see your family?" I ask.
"Sinful Serenade is my family." His voice gets low. "I don't usually talk about my family."
"I'm not going to push you." It's clear that pushing him to talk to me fails. And it's not at all pushing someone who would rather stay closed off.
His eyes turn to the ground. "Here's the thing, Meg. I'm only telling you this so you understand why I'll never fall in love with you."
My breath catches in my throat. "I know. We're friends."
Miles stares through me. "And you're sure you're okay with that?"
"Absolutely." I press my hand into my jeans. "This relationship is just sex."
He nods. "My dad left when I was in middle school. Bored of the whole suburban thing. I was angry. I did nothing but play my guitar and get into trouble. But my mom… she fell apart. She couldn't get out of bed, couldn't even bother to get herself to the shower. It broke her heart. That's what love does, it breaks your heart."
Miles's eyes fill up with this mix of hatred and frustration. His dad leaving must have hurt so much. And then his mom… he's never talked about her before.
"But she… now…" I can't bring myself to ask the question. I already know it leads down some dark and stormy path. He has no family that matters. His mom must not be…