Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(66)

Normally, that’s more entertaining, but not tonight. Miller keeps staring at his phone as if he can will it to start ringing.

He’s been trying to get a hold of his agent to no avail, and it’s driving him crazy.

Right then.

I reach over and confiscate it.

Miller’s quick to try to get it back, but I stretch out and lift it above my head.

He pins me to the couch and tries to climb me, but I press my forearm across his chest.

“Don’t,” I warn.

He reaches for it again.

“It’s going off for the rest of the night.”

“But—”

“Your agent hasn’t called you back for days. They’re not going to do it at”—I hold the phone up and press the button for the home screen to pop up—“six forty-nine at night.”

I feel the fight in him leave as his weight leans heavier on top of me.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Miller lowers himself onto me fully and buries his head in my neck.

My hand trails down his back. “Even if they’re trying to drop you, Damon’s expressed interest. You’ll get another agent.”

“Yeah, yeah. New agent, fixed leg … it’ll all happen.”

And his words are so believable too. You know, if he wasn’t so sullen as they come out.

I wish there was something I could do for him to make him believe everything will work out, but he knows, and I know, that’s not how the industry works. Just wanting it isn’t enough.

Miller’s finally pushing himself again, and I don’t want this crap with his agent to set him back.

If he can’t believe it, I can at least make him forget about it for a while.

I push him off me and stand. “I’m gonna go run you a bath. It’ll be good for your leg after training today.”

“It’s cute you think I could fit in that bucket you call a tub.”

“It’s a regular-sized tub, you big giant,” I mumble.

Miller laughs.

“I’m running it for you anyway.” I need him busy while I set up more distraction for him, seeing as movies aren’t working.

While the bath fills, I get my phone out and put in an order on the same app where I get the groceries delivered from and check the box for the extra fee to get it within a forty-five-minute window.

I call Miller in when the bath is ready, and those warm dark eyes still hold skepticism as he undresses and eases himself into the tub that, okay, is a little small for him.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I say even though there’s something oddly comforting and sexy about Miller having a bubble bath. I totally added the bubbles to mock him, but it’s backfiring because it’s filling some sort of soapy fantasy I didn’t realize I had.

I force myself to leave the room, and despite Miller’s complaints about not fitting in the tub, he’s still not out of it by the time my supplies arrive.

“Just taking the trash out,” I yell and greet the delivery guy at the door so I can take the stuff right up to the rooftop.

The delivery guy helps for an extra big tip, and when he says something about the girl I’m trying to impress, I grunt a non-answer.

I rush through setting everything up, but even so, Miller’s waiting for me when the delivery guy leaves and I get back to the apartment. I’m flushed from rushing around and breathing hard. Miller’s already dressed and cocks one dark eyebrow at me.

“What’s up?” My voice goes high-pitched while I still try to catch my breath.

“Trash? Really? What are you up to?”

“Why’s it so unbelievable that I took the trash out?”

Miller’s arms cross his impressive chest while he eyes the pile of trash on the kitchen counter.

“Okay, fine. I lied. Let’s go.” I take his hand and take the stairs to the rooftop. It’s only one floor, so he doesn’t have time to question it.

“What are we—” He stops short at the sight of the picnic rug, pillows, and candles.

It’s the best I could do on short notice. The area is barren apart from some old pieces of junk piled on the southern side of the concrete roofing.

I close the door behind us and block it off with a rusty old chair so no one can interrupt us.

The spring breeze still has a chilly bite, but the view of New York Harbor and the twinkling lights of Manhattan is amazing. I wonder if Miller takes the view for granted having grown up here.

“What did you do?” Miller asks.

“I know we can’t, like, go on a real date or anything, but this is the closest thing I could think of. I’m trying to get us out of our bubble and you out of your head.”

Miller turns to me with a wide smile. “Who knew you were a lame-ass romantic.”

“Ha-ha.” I shove him, but he’s quick and takes hold of my wrist, bringing me against him.

“I love it.” He holds me tight, our breaths mixing as he inches closer.

Before he can close the distance and kiss me, which would effectively throw us off course, I smile and grip his hips, spinning him in the direction of the picnic.

“That’s not all.” My arms wrap around him from behind, and we waddle our way over to where a basket sits next to the blanket.

“Ten bucks says you’re about to pull out kale chips and tell me they’re a treat.”