The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

He laughs loudly, and it’s a beautiful sound. It does things to my insides. “Does your mother know you’re a cannibal?” He kisses my cheek from behind.

I giggle as I stir the pot. “No, and don’t tell her.”

“You didn’t need to cook. I would have taken you out.” He pours himself a glass of wine.

“It’s Monday.” I frown.

“And?” He sips his wine.

“You don’t go out to dinner on a school night.”

“I go out every night.”

“What?” I frown. “You eat out every night?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

My mouth falls open, and I put my hand on my hip. “Jameson Miles, you have more money than sense. How do you relax if you go out to dinner every night?”

“I sit in a restaurant and eat.” He shrugs. “It’s really quite easy.”

I roll my eyes in disgust as I keep stirring. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” He takes me in his arms and stares down at me. “Did you really miss me over the weekend?”

I go up onto my toes and kiss his big beautiful lips. “I did, actually.”

He holds me tight.

“This is where you tell me that you missed me too,” I mutter dryly into his shoulder.

“I don’t miss people.”

“Ugh,” I huff as I pull out of his arms and go back to stirring the dinner. “Can you go out of the room so I can drug your food now?” I ask. “I plan on robbing your place.”

He chuckles. “Only if you promise to take advantage of my body while I’m sleeping.”

I giggle. “Deal.”

I dish up our dinner, and we take seats at the kitchen counter. I hold my breath as he takes his first bite. “Hmm, delicious,” he hums.

I smile proudly.

“A fuck bunny who cooks.” He smirks around a forkful of food.

“I love to cook. It’s my hobby.”

He frowns and watches me for a moment. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Emily.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. You’re very . . .” He pauses as he thinks of the right word. “Unaffected.”

“Unaffected by what?” I smirk as I eat.

He shrugs. “New York.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend who cooked for you before?”