Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

The door opens. Damn. That means we lose the game. It's Tom, and he's halfway undressed. Jeans. No t-shirt, no shoes. There's giggling in the background. Ah, there's a half-naked woman in the kitchen. His conquest of the day.

Or Miles's conquest of the day.

My heart thuds. If it keeps beating this fast and hard, it's going to burst right out of my chest.

"Jesus, what did he do now?" Tom asks.

Kara sticks her tongue out and steps inside.

"Come in, please." He rolls his eyes. "Should I call him? I don't even know where to start."

Kara rolls her eyes. "I'm more than happy to storm up to Miles's room and drag him down here."

"Give me a minute," Tom says. He makes some kind of signal to the half-naked woman then turns back to us. His lips purse and he exhales in a dramatic sigh. "He's fucking devastated, you know."

"Just get him," I say.

"You want to tell me what this is about?"

"Meg needs to speak with Miles. Get him or I will," Kara says.

"What do they need to speak about?" Tom folds his arms.

She glares at him like he's the source of all evil in the universe. "They're in love."

Tom raises an eyebrow. He looks at me as if to ask is this shit true?

I nod. As far as I know.

He finally drops the pout. "I hope you're right. But I'm going to do this the old-fashioned way." He pulls out his phone and dials Miles.

There's the faint sound of a ring. A door opens. Footsteps.

Miles appears at the top of the stairs. "You can't walk one fucking flight, Tom?" His eyes find mine, and the irritated scowl drops off his face.

He looks nervous. Miles, the rock star sex god, is nervous because of me.

"Meg. Hey." He clutches the banister on his way down the stairs. "Everything okay?"

I open my mouth, but no sounds come out. Deep breath. "I heard your song."

His lips curl into the tiniest smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I press my fingers against my hips. "That one about me, too?"

He reaches the bottom of the stairs. "I haven't fallen in love with any other girls this year."

My breath catches in my throat. He said… he must mean… he must…

I'm dizzy. My legs are wobbly. "You, um, did you mean what you said?"

"Every word." He takes a step towards me. "Though, technically, I sang them."

"Technically."

Miles sends Tom the evil eye. "A little privacy, maybe?"

"Hell no." He raises his voice. "Drew, Pete, you fuckers here to see this?"