Miles High, page 7
part #4 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
He pushed off the door, opened it, and strode out, leaving me alone.
“He’s not a kid,” I mumbled behind his back. I knew that much about Miles that he hated when people called him that.
If Miles was in trouble, why hadn’t told me? He’d acted shifty when I was at his house, his eyes darting around as if he expected someone to be watching him. But what kind of trouble could someone like Miles be in?
“Rubble?”
I glanced up at Cass. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t bring Miles here with us. I thought he was having a good time, but evidently not. Maybe that man running into him was just an excuse for him to leave us. You said he was like this with you too, right? Hot and cold?”
“Maybe. This guy, who bumped into him, what’d he look like?”
Cass shrugged. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to him. We were concerned about how Miles took it.”
“So he was really upset.”
“Yeah, I liked Miles, by the way. He didn’t say too much, but I think he’d be perfect for us.”
“You’re not shopping for a tank top, Cass.”
He flushed. “I know, but still, what are you going to do?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Booker was right that the club had been butting heads with too many people of late. The last thing I wanted was to be the one to drag them into danger. Cass and Mort were supposed to get married. This was about them and their wedding. Not me and not Miles.
But what if he was in serious trouble and needed me? I couldn’t abandon him.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
If only he would give me any indication that he welcomed my attention. Something to let me know it was worth chasing him. Something I had never done before. Years of rejection made me stay in my lane.
But for the first time, someone was out there I wanted badly enough to take a detour for.
“Well, if you need any help, I’m all for doing what it takes to push you two together.”
“Good, because I may need it.”
Chapter 8
Miles
“Dad? Dad, are you here?”
Frowning at the lack of response, I marched to the kitchen, which was a mess. The stench that had to be coming from the pile of dishes in the sink had me gagging. Flies circled above a half-eaten sandwich on the kitchen table.
I held my breath, then went in.
I put the two bags of groceries I’d brought with me on the counter, shoving a pizza box out of the way. Gross. As if a filthy pig lived here. The last time I’d been here, I’d cleaned up, sat him down, and talked to him about where his life was going. It was bad enough he’d risked both our lives, but it was even worse that he couldn’t take pleasure in the deal he’d struck with the devil by living a happy life. At least then, it would have all been worth it.
Teeth clenched, I set to work. I shoved all the food, takeout boxes, and wrappers into a trash bag. Emptied the fridge of stuff I didn’t want to look too closely at and dumped it into the bag as well. When I was done, I threw everything into the trash can, then washed the dishes and wiped down the counters.
When I’d finished scrubbing, the kitchen gleamed. Too bad that in the next couple of days, it would be in the same condition I’d found it in. If I had any common sense at all, I wouldn’t have cleaned up after him. I wasn’t doing him any favors by taking on tasks that were his responsibilities, but once again, I was the dutiful son. Even though I wasn’t the one who’d gotten us into this mess in the first place, I had to fix it.
With the kitchen taken care of, I cleared up the living room, then moved on to Dad’s bedroom. A rancid odor mixed with alcohol slapped me in the face.
Grimacing, I stepped over a pair of underwear and strode to the double windows. As I opened the blinds, a flood of sunlight poured in, illuminating a pile of clothes, which I was pretty sure were the same clothes I’d laundered not a week ago. I pushed the window open to let in fresh air and gulped some into my lungs.
A moan came from the bed. I turned toward Dad, who lay curled up into a fetal position in the middle of the bed, and a mixture of emotions ran through me—pity, love, and hate all in one. This man had saved me and destroyed my life at the same time.
I should stop visiting him, stop protecting him, but as much as I would have liked to, I couldn’t. Images of what he’d been like before he got in too deep in the game flooded my mind. His drinking aside, he’d been a good dad, taking me on camping trips and treating me with ice cream. But he’d ended in a rut and was now unable to get out.
He’d made the deal with the devil, but I was the one left to face the consequences.
Like me, my father was a slender man, but the past two years of existing on booze and impending dread had turned him into a shadow of his former self. He’d lost muscle mass, his collarbones were protruding from his chest, and when he blinked at me, his bloodshot eyes were unclear and unfocused.
“Dad, what did you take?” I walked over to the bed.
He groaned and rolled over onto his back, an arm thrown over his face to shield him from the light.
“What are you doing here, Miles?”
“Making sure you’re still alive.”
He lowered his arm. “Your life would be better if I was dead.”
“I used to think so, but I doubt it. I’d be left to feel the misery of your decisions for both of us.”
“Aren’t you doing that now?”
“You need to get out of bed.”
“What for?”
“Because you stink.” I wrinkled my nose. “When was the last time you took a shower?”
“Depends. What day is it?”
The thin thread I was hanging by snapped hard. “You know what? You can stay here and have your little pity party while I am trying to work things out to keep us both alive for one more day. That’s the hardest part of all this, Dad. That you got us into this mess, and then you gave up. Do you think you have more to lose here than me? You don’t, so think about that the next time you take up a bottle and decide that you’ll waste the rest of your life away.”
I stalked toward the door, my head and heart heavy. Every time I visited him, it was the same damn thing. He made it seem like our situation was hopeless, and I couldn’t think that way. If I did…what was the whole point of waking up in the morning? I had to believe that somehow and someday I would be rid of this debt and walk away a free man. Maybe I would walk away being a little less me, but I could bounce back.
I just needed to remain positive that somehow everything would work out.
My optimism lasted until I was home. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I sagged against it and cried. I was scared, and I had no one to talk to about what was happening in my life. Cass had called a few times since our shopping trip two days ago, but I had ignored him. What would I say to him about why I’d acted so strange that day? They couldn’t still want to hang out with me after I’d left them stranded. I wouldn’t want to talk to me in that situation.
How could life be so cruel? I’d finally found not one but three nice boys who wanted to be friends. Something I’d never had before, forced into isolation because of who my father worked for. Now I had to turn those boys down when I longed to do the opposite. I’d never thought of getting a tattoo before, but I would have been too happy to be included in their friendship tattoo.
Not anymore. They must truly hate me now.
Someone knocked on the door, and I scrambled to my feet. My heart pounded in my chest as the banging grew louder.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and dragged deep breaths into my lungs to calm my racing heart. The last thing I needed was to have an asthma attack. I opened the door slowly and peered out, my shoulders dropping with relief. It wasn’t Hook as I’d feared, but Rubble. I groaned. He shouldn’t be here, not after the last time we’d seen each other.
“Miles.”
The words stuck in my throat to tell him to leave. Instead, I opened the door wide. “Come in.”
He ambled inside, and I peeked out again—thank god no one was watching— and closed the door.
“You’ve been crying,” he said.
My face burned. “No, I got soap in my eyes.” I hated lying, but I didn’t want Rubble to ask questions I couldn’t give answers to.
He frowned at me, took me by the chin, and tilted my face. I couldn’t look away from his intense stare.
“I know you’re lying,” he said. “What I don’t know is why.”
“I’m not.”
He released my chin. “I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me.”
How I wanted him to make it better, but not if it put him and the other club members at risk. He wouldn’t let me go so easily, not even if it meant tangling with a biker.
“There’s nothing to make better, Rubble.” I walked to the kitchen. “Do you want a beer?”
“Dammit, Miles, I want you to be honest and tell me what’s going on with you.” He grabbed my shoulder, preventing me from walking away.
“I don’t know what you mean. Do you want the beer or not?”
His face grew red, and I flinched, fully expecting him to go off on me. But he nodded and dropped his hand.
“Fine, have it your way. We can talk over a beer.”
In the kitchen, he didn’t sit at the table but leaned against the cupboards with his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms across his barrel chest. He looked so hot, and a low heat simmered in my belly. I tore my eyes away from him and opened the fridge.
Shoot, what was I looking for again?
“Are you trying to freeze your head inside?” Rubble asked.
Ah, beer. I snagged a beer for him and a soda for myself. This time I didn’t bother to look for the bottle opener and handed him the bottle. I tried not to stare as he ripped the cap off with his teeth. Something so visceral shouldn’t be appealing, but would he kiss with as much gusto?
He took a huge swig and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Glancing away, I snapped the lid of my can. The soda spewed in my face and onto my chest.
“Oh my god!”
I dropped the can in the sink and held my arms wide, grimacing at how sticky and messy I was.
“Oh shit!” Rubble burst out laughing. “I thought you meant to drink that, not wear it.”
I giggled as the tension in the room eased. “I bet I look good in it, though.”
“Probably tastes real good too.”
I sucked in a deep breath. Rubble put his beer down and grabbed a dish towel from the rack.
“Well, it’s grape soda. Who doesn’t like grape soda?”
“Yeah, I really like me some of that.” But the way he was looking at me, he wasn’t just talking about the drink.
“I didn’t expect that to happen,” I whispered.
“Here, let me help.” Rubble wet the towel, then removed my glasses. He held my face gently in his hand and wiped at my skin with the damp cloth. He was so near me that the musky scent of him filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. My misbehaving tongue wanted to lick him. I’d never licked anybody before. I’d always maintained the code of keeping myself pure in every way until he was ready for me to join him in his bed.
“You’re going to have to wash your hair,” Rubble said, cleaning the lenses of my glasses before setting them back on my nose. “And you might have ruined your shirt.” He released my face and caught the hem of my shirt. “Take it off so I can clean up under.”
Panic surged through me, and I slapped his hand away, stepping back and bumping into the cabinet. “Please don’t touch me like that.”
Rubble held up his hands. “Sorry, I-I was just trying to help.”
But that kind of help could get us both into trouble. Like getting killed kind of trouble.
“I can take it from here. Did you stop by for something?”
Rubble narrowed his eyes. “You know what, Miles, fuck this. I mean, one minute you act like you’re interested in me, and then the next, you push me away. I can’t take the mixed signals anymore, so I’m just gonna come out and say it.” He inhaled deeply, then let the air go out slowly. “Do you want to go out or something? I mean, if you’re down for just a fuck, I can obviously get on par with that too, but I-I kind of prefer if it was the first. Not that I don’t think you’re hot and I don’t want to sleep with you. I spend a lot of time thinking about you bouncing on my dick, but that’s not all I think about. I want to know about the secrets you’re hiding too. Is that what you want because I can’t tell with the way you’re vibing right now?”
Holy hell. I gripped the edge of the counter behind me to steady myself. His torrent of words had my knees weak and my body tingling when he mentioned what he imagined me doing on his cock. I’d sensed his interest in me. I might be a virgin, but I wasn’t clueless. I could tell when a man was interested in me, and Rubble certainly was.
But he’d come out and said it. That part I hadn’t expected. He was always stuttering around me, even though he didn’t have a speech impediment as far as I knew. And the only time he was able to have a decent conversation with me was when it was about topics that had nothing to do with us.
And he stood there in front of me, waiting for an answer I couldn’t give. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. What could I say? I’m into you too, but I can’t be because there’s a man out there who thinks I’m his, and if he knows how I feel about you, he’ll do his best to make you disappear?
I didn’t want Rubble to disappear. I would rather have him far away from me but safe. He was already in enough trouble as a Reaper. He didn’t need me and my problems to make things more complicated.
“I see.” Rubble nodded, his eyes guarded. “I was wrong, then, to think that you were interested in going out.”
No, you aren’t.
“But even if you don’t want to go out or anything, you ought to know that those three boys wanted to be friends with you. What you did to them wasn’t cool. And they would’ve been friends with you whether or not we would hang out.”
“Rubble,” I whispered his name.
“No, it’s fine. I get it now.” He held up his hands and backed away. “Why should someone like you want to go out with me?”
His self-deprecation was what got to me. I grabbed him by the shirt front and used his surprise to pull him down while I rose on my toes. I planted my lips on his, then froze, uncertain what to do now. Panic clawed at my chest, but then Rubble groaned, and he wrapped his hands around my back and down, cupped my ass, and hauled me up against him.
Too much. I was feeling way too much. His hands were where no hands had gone before. His tongue delved into my mouth where none had ever been either. Desire I’d held off all these years, reserved for a man I loathed, exploded inside me as I clung to Rubble, running my hands over his chest. He felt so good, tasted way too good, of beer and mint.
“Fuck, Miles,” he mumbled against my lips. “You really want me?”
But I can’t have you.
Maybe just for a little while longer.
“Yes.”
He lifted me in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging a hand into his hair and unraveling it from its bun. The wavy lengths fell over my hands. He was hard beneath me. I wanted all that hardness pressed up against me, skin to skin. I wanted it inside me, filling me, making me his.
How would he find out?
But he knows everything.
“Rubble.” I tugged at his hair. I’d already gone too far, filling him with hope where there was none.
“I wanna fuck you so bad.” He lowered me so his hardness nudged against my belly. “Want to pin you to the bed beneath me and drive my cock into your ass.”
My cheeks flamed at the raw grittiness of his words. I stiffened, and he paused, blinking at me as if regaining his senses.
“Fuck. Don’t tell me I ruined everything.”
I shook my head. “Put me down, please.”
“One more kiss?”
What was one more when we couldn’t do this ever again? I should probably tell him that before the last kiss, but I didn’t want to risk him walking out yet. Maybe these kisses would help me to make it through the miserable years ahead.
His kiss was softer this time and, if possible, even more devastating. The little sounds of pleasure he pulled out of me were foreign. He seemed to like it and tightened his arms around me as his tongue lazily wound its way along mine.
It finished way too soon.
I didn’t want him to go. I wanted the fantasy to stay with me.
Please, please say you’ll slay my dragon.
I pressed my face to Rubble’s neck and clung to him, gulping in deep breaths to prevent myself from crying.
“Do you regret that?” he asked me.
I shook my head. I was digging my hole deeper and deeper. I might as well bury myself.
“You were wrong,” I said. “I do want to go out with you. I want to do more of this kissing stuff, but I-I can’t.”
He released me, and I caught the counter at my back to steady myself. “You’re confusing me.”
“I can’t get involved with anyone.”
“Miles, are you in trouble?”
I nodded slowly.
“What kind of trouble? Let me help.”
“You can’t. Nobody can. There’s already someone.”
Not someone I had chosen, but it didn’t make a difference. Someone was out there who would be infuriated by our kiss. Someone who would kill one of us over that kiss. Or maybe both.
“You’re in a relationship?”
“Kind of.” One forced on me out of a lack of options, but how else could I answer when I’d been groomed for this position way longer than was legally acceptable?
“What kind of answer is that?”
