Miles glances back at me, and his eyes are apologetic and full of regret. I’m not sure if it’s for me or for Corbin, but he does what Corbin asks.
He leaves.
I’m still standing in my bedroom doorway, looking at Corbin like I could fly across this hall and deck him.
Corbin pierces me with a stare as firm as his stance. “You’re not a brother, Tate,” he says. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m not allowed to be pissed.” He steps back into his bedroom and slams his door.
I blink rapidly, fighting back tears of anger because of Corbin, tears of hurt because of Miles, and tears of shame because of the selfish choices I made for myself. I refuse to cry in front of either of them.
I walk to the kitchen and retrieve my shirt, then pull it over my head as I make my way toward the front door and across the hall. I knock on his door, and Miles opens it immediately. He looks behind me as if he expects Corbin to be standing there, then he steps aside and lets me in.
“He’ll get over it,” I say to him after he closes his door.
“I know,” he says quietly. “But it won’t be the same.” Miles walks to his living room and sits on his couch, so I follow him and sit down beside him. I don’t have any words of advice, because he’s right. Things more than likely won’t be the same between him and Corbin. I feel shitty that I’m the reason for that.
Miles sighs as he pulls my hand to his lap. He threads his fingers through mine. “Tate,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I look at him, and his eyes come up and meet mine. “For what?”
I don’t know why I’m pretending not to know what he’s talking about. I know exactly what he’s talking about.
“When Corbin asked if I planned on loving you,” he says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes. I just didn’t want to lie to either of you.”
I shake my head. “You’ve been nothing but honest about what you want from me, Miles. I can’t be mad at you for that.”
He inhales a deep breath as he stands and begins pacing the living room. I remain on the couch and watch him as he works to gather his thoughts. He eventually pauses and locks his hands behind his head. “I had no right to question you about that guy, either. I don’t allow you to question me or my life, so I have no right to question yours.”
Not about to argue with that logic.
“I just don’t know how to deal with this thing between us.” He steps closer to me, and I stand up. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me against his chest. “I don’t know an easy or even polite way to say this, but what I said to Corbin is the truth. I’ll never love anyone again. It’s not worth it to me. But I’m being unfair to you. I know I’m messing with your head, and I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. I just like being with you, but every time I’m with you, I’m scared you’re seeing it for more than it really is.”
I know I should have some sort of reaction to everything he just said, but I’m still processing his words. Every single one of his admissions should be a red flag, since they were all also coupled with the hard truth that he doesn’t plan on loving me or having a relationship with me, but the red flag doesn’t rise.
The green one does.
“Is it me specifically you don’t want to love, or is it love in general you don’t want to experience?”
He pulls me away from his chest so he can look at me while he answers my question. “It’s love in general I don’t want, Tate. Ever. It’s you specifically that I just . . . want.”
I fall in and out and back in love with that answer.
I’m so screwed up. Everything he says should send me running, but instead, it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and give him whatever it is he’s willing to take from me. I’m lying to him, and I’m lying to myself, and I’m not doing either of us any good, but I can’t stop the words that come out of my mouth.
“I can handle this as long as it stays simple,” I tell him. “When you pull the shit you pulled a few weeks ago by walking away and slamming your door? That’s not keeping it simple, Miles. Things like that make it complicated.”
He nods, contemplating what I’ve said. “Simple,” he says, rolling the word around in his mouth. “If you can do simple, I can do simple.”
“Good,” I say. “And when it becomes too hard for either of us, we’ll end it for good.”
“I’m not worried about it becoming too hard for me,” he says. “I’m worried about it becoming too hard for you.”
I’m worried about me, too, Miles. But I want the here and now with you a whole lot more than I care about how it will affect me in the end.
With that thought, I suddenly figure out what my one rule is. He’s had his boundaries this entire time, protecting himself from the vulnerability that I’ve been subjected to.
“I think I finally have my one rule,” I say. He looks at me and raises a brow, waiting for me to talk. “Don’t give me false hope for a future,” I say. “Especially if you know in your heart we’ll never have one.”
His posture immediately stiffens. “Have I done that?” he asks, genuinely concerned. “Have I given you false hope before?”
Yes. About thirty minutes ago, when you looked me in the eyes the entire time you were inside me.
“No,” I say quickly. “Just make sure you don’t do or say things that would make me believe otherwise. As long as we both see this for what it is, I think we’ll be fine.”
He stares at me silently for a while, studying me. Evaluating my words. “I can’t tell if you’re really mature for your age or really delusional.”
I shrug, guarding my delusions deep inside my chest. “An unhealthy mixture of both, I’m sure.”
He presses his lips against the side of my head. “This feels really fucked up to say out loud, but I promise I won’t give you hope for us, Tate.”
My heart frowns at his words, but my face forces a smile. “Good,” I say. “You have serious issues that kind of freak me out, and I’d much rather fall in love with an emotionally stable man someday.”
He laughs. Probably because he knows the odds of finding someone who can put up with this kind of relationship, if you can even call it that, are extremely low. Yet somehow, the one girl who might be fine with it just happened to move in across the hall from him. And he actually likes her.
You like me, Miles Archer.
• • •
“Corbin found out,” I say as I take what has become my usual seat next to Cap.
“Uh-oh,” he says. “Is the boy still alive?”
I nod. “For now. Not sure how long that’ll last, though.”
The doors to the lobby open, and I watch Dillon make his way inside. He pulls a hat off his head and shakes rain out of it as he walks toward the elevator.
“Sometimes I wish the flights I send up would crash,” Cap says, eyeing Dillon.
I guess Cap doesn’t like Dillon, either. I’m beginning to feel a little bad for Dillon.
He spots us just before he reaches the elevators. Cap is moving to press the up button, but Dillon reaches it before him. “I’m pretty capable of fetching my own elevator, old man,” he says.