Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(46)

A muscle twitched in Derek’s jaw. “All right, enough,” he bit out, stepping forward. “I’ve had enough of your thinly veiled insults toward me and my family. Why don’t you just say it as it is and leave the kid alone?”

Ian stared at him. “Pardon?”

Derek’s lips twisted. “Stop messing with his head. I don’t know how you found out that we asked Miles to keep an eye on you, but duping him is a new low, even for you.”

Miles felt like time stopped.

Or maybe it was his heart.

Slowly, Ian turned his head to look at him, his gaze searching.

It was heartbreaking, because Miles could see that Ian didn’t want to believe Derek’s words.

Miles could only look back at him, feeling guilty, desperate, and ridiculously upset. He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself they didn’t have a future together anyway. He told himself a great many things.

It didn’t change anything. He still felt like he’d just lost something essential when he saw Ian’s expression close off, his blue eyes turning ice cold. His hand dropped from Miles’s shoulder.

Miles’s heart dropped with it.

He stood there, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Everyone’s but Ian’s. He could almost physically feel Ian distancing himself from him and shutting him out.

Miles knew that this was a moment he would look back at and regret years from now. He knew, in his heart, that he and Ian could have been something great. The connection, the intimacy, the easy trust and companionship between them had been something special, more special than even their sexual chemistry—which said something, because Miles wasn’t even sure he would ever be attracted to another person, much less want them so much and fit with them so well.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wanted Ian too much. He needed him too much. Hell, it had been just a week, but he was already a needy wreck, practically jumping Ian in public. If this continued, Ian had the potential to break his heart so thoroughly he would never recover.

So maybe it was for the best. If Ian hated him for betraying him, he would never touch him again. He would never kiss him or look at him as though Miles was the only thing in the world. They would move on with their lives, and eventually Ian would completely forget about some British kid he’d had a weird summer fling with.

But his stupid heart clenched at the thought, and Miles couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought.

He knew he had two options.

He could say nothing and allow Ian to believe that he’d betrayed him, that what they’d had wasn’t real. He would keep the Rutledges’ good opinion, Alexander wouldn’t tell Zach anything, and Miles would eventually forget about Ian. Maybe.

He could also fight for it—for them—and risk everything. There was absolutely no guarantee that he and Ian would ever work out. There was too much separating them. Just last week Ian had told him that it was a mistake, and nothing had really changed since then.

Miles almost laughed at his own thoughts. Who was he trying to kid here? Both options would likely make him miserable in the end, but only one of them had the potential for happiness, no matter how short-lived. Yes, it was a lot riskier too, but he was a Hardaway, dammit. If his brothers’ example had taught him anything, it was that one was the creator of their own destiny. Ian Caldwell would never be the safe option. But Zach hadn’t chosen the safe option when he’d left his fiancée for a bloke who refused to even admit that he had feelings for Zach. Miles and Ian might never become anything or their relationship might crash and burn within a few weeks, but Miles was going to regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t even try—if he let it end on a misunderstanding.

Miles caught Ian’s arm, forcing him to look at him.

Ian sneered, something cold and cruel in his eyes. Before Ian could say anything cutting, Miles stepped forward and kissed him softly.

Someone in the room gasped.

Miles didn’t pay them any mind. This was too important. He couldn’t fuck this up.

Ian was rigidly still, like a taut string ready to snap.

Breathing in his scent shallowly, Miles pressed their cheeks together and said into Ian’s ear, “I never spied on you or told them anything. I could, but I never did. And you know why.” He pulled back to look Ian in the eye. He felt himself blush, knowing that now everyone in the room could hear him, no matter how quietly he talked. “I don’t give a shit if you really are as bad as Derek told me. I don’t care. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but—”

“Miles,” Derek cut him off, his voice hard. “Please go to your room. I need to talk to Caldwell. Alone.”

Ian didn’t even glance at him, his sharp gaze on Miles, intent and searching.

Miles tried to convey with his eyes what he couldn’t say in a room full of people. I’m yours. I’m so gone on you I barely even notice anything else when you’re nearby. I don’t even care what an asshole you are. You’ve always been so good to me. I fucking adore you, despite all your arrogant, controlling ways.

He didn’t know if his face conveyed half of what he was feeling, but it must have conveyed something because the ice in Ian’s eyes melted a little. He just stared at Miles for a long moment before finally averting his gaze.

But Ian’s eyes hardened again when he looked at Derek. “Yes, Miles, go to your room. Fetch your suitcase.”