Filed To Story: Secret Shifters Next Door Series PDF Free
I was being an idiot again. “Oh. Yeah, sure. Sorry.”
“You know, you don’t have to apologize for everything,” he said with a smile.
“Sorry. Er—” I winced, and a blush flushed across my cheeks. “I mean, yeah. Thanks.”
Miles chuckled as he stepped aside to let me in. At least it was a good-natured laugh. If I’d thought for even an instant that he was laughing at me, I’d have sprinted back across to my apartment—and probably booked a plane ticket out of here for tomorrow morning. I was already embarrassed enough. Being
made fun of would have made me want to crawl into a hole and die.
Miles glanced at the tray of brownies. “Wow, those look great.”
I handed it to him. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if you were planning on dessert so I baked these.”
“I have ice cream. These will go great with that.”
I looked around at the apartment and saw it had the same layout as mine. The décor was different of course—a little sparse, even compared to mine. It didn’t seem like the place got much use. I wondered if Miles’s job kept him away a lot.
“Have a seat. I’ll get everything plated up,” Miles said as he pulled a chair out for me.
I sat and watched him serve up a salad and plate a massive pile of pasta. “Everything smells amazing,” I said, my stomach growling.
“Thanks. It’s a recipe my mom and grandma used. I hope you like Italian.”
“Who doesn’t like pasta?”
He laughed. “Good to hear.”
He set the salad bowl down in front of me along with the plate of pasta. On the side was a thick piece of Italian bread slathered with butter. I forced myself to not dive in right away, and waited until Miles sat with his own food before taking the first bite. I moaned as I chewed. It was fantastic.
Miles was pouring me a glass of wine when I moaned in delight over the food. His eyes flashed up to me at the sound. The look he gave was one I couldn’t name, but there was an intense hunger to it. Trying to keep things moving, I started asking him different questions from the night before. Talking to him seemed easiernot that the awkwardness of the evening before was gone. I assumed it was because we were on a second
date. At least, I assumed this was a second date. I’d never had a second date with anyone, so I was in uncharted territory.
He was telling me about some of the jobs he’d done in the past, and it fascinated me. Halfway through one of his stories, I remembered what Felicity said and started licking my lips and blinking at him, doing my best to bat my eyelashes.
Miles stopped talking. “Do you need a mirror? Is there something in your eye?”
I stopped blinking and tried not to melt into the chair. “No, just…uh, nothing, sorry.”
“Okay.” He shrugged it off, much to my relief.
As embarrassing as that had been, I still felt accomplished by staying engaged in the conversation. A few minutes later, I tried another tactic. The ego boost Felicity had told me about.
“You have to be really smart to do what you do. It’s incredible that you can find all these tiny clues, figure out these big mysteries and find lost people. It’s really impressive.”
Miles looked at me, and I did a mental fist pump when I saw how appreciative he was of the compliment. “Thanks, Celina. In fiction, most private detectives are belligerent drunks or flamboyant playboys, and it’s not like that at all. It takes a lot of knowledge and work to solve a case. I’ve always kind of had an eye for things. I’m not the type to take things at face value. I think that helps me get under the surface and discover the truth.”
I smiled at him. He was fascinating, unlike any guy I’d ever met or read about. Plus, he didn’t seem to think I was an annoyance. Usually, after ten or fifteen minutes of conversation, guys were disengaged and already on their phones, ready for the date to be over. I almost didn’t know how to act.
When we were done with the pasta, Miles went to get the brownies and ice cream. The food had been really amazing. So,
not only was he hot, smart, and intelligent, but he could cook too. This guy was dangerous. In a good way.
He set my bowl down, and I took a spoonful of ice cream and licked it, sliding my tongue down the bowl of the spoon and scooping the ice cream into my mouth. I glanced over at Miles and saw that hungry look in his eyes again. It took me a second to realize how I must have looked eating that bite. It could have been misconstrued as sexy. From the way he was looking at me, maybe I wanted it to be misconstrued.
“Are…are you okay?” I asked as I set my spoon down.
He stared at me for several seconds. I could see the wheels in his head turning. He frowned, like he’d suddenly thought of something. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice hoarse and strained.
“Really?”
He continued to stare at me, and by the look on his face, I could practically see a question forming in his mind. His cheeks were suddenly pink, and I wondered what question someone like Miles would be embarrassed to ask. Finally, he blurted, “I don’t want to be too forward, but…when was the last time you were with a man? I want to know, because it’s getting hard for me to hide how I’m reacting to you. And I—Sorry.” He shook his head, looking even more embarrassed. “That’s a really strange thing to ask. Inappropriate. I’m sorry.”
My eyes almost bugged out of my head in surprise. I cleared my throat. “Uh…what do you mean ‘react to me?'”
He sighed, shaking his head. “If I stood up right now, you’d see exactly what I mean.”
I clenched my jaw to keep it from dropping open. I had no trouble understanding that. Butterflies stirred in my stomach. Were people always this blunt when they spoke about stuff like this?