Miles

––––––––

“So, does he do that often?” I ask Harlow who has barely touched the pasta on her plate. She’s spent more time pushing it around with her fork than actually eating it.

I think she’s still trying to process having her ex showing up here the way he did.

She gives me a weak smile and nods, finally deciding to abandon her food  altogether. She drops her fork and leans back slightly in her chair, taking her glass of wine with her.

“I’m starting to understand why you left Arizona,” I say, popping the end of a breadstick into my mouth.

“It was really bad,” she agrees, tipping the wine glass to her lips before taking a long drink. “Though I have to say, I never thought he’d show up here.”

“Crazy people do crazy things.” I shrug.

“I guess.” She blows out a slow breath, her eyes coming back to mine. “The sad thing is, if he put in even half of this effort into our relationship, maybe our marriage wouldn’t have fallen apart.”

“Do you still love him?” I don’t know why I ask. It’s none of my fucking business, but the question comes out just the same.

“That’s a complicated question.” She pauses. “I think a part of me will always love him in some way, but I fell out of love with him years ago. I just wouldn’t let myself face it until the truth about his affairs came out.”

I clamp down on my bottom lip to keep myself from saying what I really want to say. I can’t look at the beautiful woman sitting across from me and fathom for even a second why any man would cheat on her. It makes my fucking blood boil just thinking about it.

“The truth is, I fell in love with one man and married a completely different one. When we first started dating it was so easy. He was smart and handsome and made me feel like a princess. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s exactly how I felt when I was with him. I had never had a man make me feel so adored and so worthy. It was impossible not to fall for him. But then we got married, and it was like a light switch was flipped. He became jealous and controlling. He wouldn’t let me work, insisting that he wanted to provide for me so that I could stay at home with the kids when we had them. But years passed and there were no children. Hell, he wouldn’t even entertain the idea. Always making some excuse as to why we weren’t ready. I had nothing for myself. That house had become my prison, and even though I knew it was happening, I refused to let myself see what my life had become. I’m sure that sounds crazy.” She chuckles to herself before tipping the glass back to her lips, emptying the contents in one long drink.

“It doesn’t sound crazy,” I disagree. “Sometimes when you’re standing too close, you don’t see all the imperfections, but when you take a step back, everything becomes clearer.”

“Spoken like a man who’s been there before.” She cocks a brow at me, setting her empty glass at the edge of the table.

“When I came back from my first tour overseas I met a girl. Rachel,” I admit. “Though our time together was short, there were a lot of things I didn’t realize until it ended.”

“Like what?” Harlow leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. My gaze slides across the freckles that scatter over her nose and around her cheeks, and I wonder how I never noticed how fucking adorable they are.

“What?” I question, losing my train of thought.

“What kind of things didn’t you realize?”

“Well, a lot of things. We went from zero to ten overnight. Typically when things happen that quickly, there are a lot of signs you miss. I was only home a couple of weeks before I had to report back to the base, but we agreed to keep seeing each other. We wrote letters, and I called when I could. It gave me someone to talk to. Someone to confide in. I don’t know. I guess it just felt good knowing there was someone out there that gave a shit about me.”

“A lot of people give a shit about you,” Harlow interrupts.

“I know that. But there’s something about having someone love you in that way.”

“I get it.” She pauses when the waiter appears. “Can I have another glass, please?” She gestures to her empty wine glass.

“Of course.” He smiles at her a little too long, and I’m tempted to clear my throat to snap him out of it.

The funny thing is, I don’t think Harlow has any idea that he’s been giving her the look all night. The look that says I’d like to do more than just bring you wine all night. Kids got balls. I’ll give him that. You would think with me sitting right here he wouldn’t be so bold. Fucking college kids.

I can’t help but wonder if Harlow’s always been so oblivious to men openly ogling her. Tubbs has been stumbling over himself to talk to her at every turn, yet Harlow seems completely unphased. The only way a woman is that unaffected by the attention of a man is if she doesn’t realize what kind of attention he’s giving her.

I’ve seen girls practically melt at Tubbs’ feet, but Harlow is an exception. A part of me is relieved. I don’t know why, but the thought of her hooking up with Tubbs, or any guy for that matter, doesn’t sit well with me.

She waits until the waiter  leaves before turning her attention back to me.

“So what happened with this girl?”

“We did the long distance thing for a while. It wasn’t ideal, but it was nice having someone to talk to. We stayed together through my second deployment, and she was here waiting for me when I was discharged. But by that point, my time away had such a monumental impact on my life. I didn’t come back the same person. She realized pretty quick that who I was and who she wanted me to be were two completely different people. She ended things shortly after I returned home. I think she liked the idea of dating a military man. To have someone to use to garner sympathy from other people because I was fighting overseas and may never come home, but she didn’t like the reality of what dating someone in my profession meant when it really boiled down to it. At the end of the day, I realized it was never about me. It was always about her and what she could get out of the relationship.”

“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that.” She nods to the waiter who reappears with her glass of wine but keeps her attention locked on me. This time he doesn’t linger at the table. “How long were you two together exactly?” She lifts her glass and takes a drink before setting it on the table in front of her.

“About two years. Though we only spent about two months of that time actually together.”

“Did you love her?”

“I cared for her, but love, I can’t say that I did. I thought I did for a while but after it was over, I realized what we had wasn’t love.” I shake my head. “That probably sounds bad.”

“You can’t help what you felt, or didn’t feel for that matter.” She shrugs, settling further back into her chair. “Do you still see her around?”

“From time to time. We’re friendly, but that’s about the extent of it.”

“Do you think if you hadn’t gone back overseas that maybe things would have worked out for you?”

“Hard to say.” I blow out a breath. “But I doubt it.”

“You said things happened over there that changed you.” She leaves the statement open-ended and as much as I wish I could have this conversation with her, I can’t.

I can’t have her look at me the way I know she will. Not her. I don’t know why, but not her.

Very few people know about what actually happened during my time overseas. As a matter of fact, other than the brothers I served with, only Winston and my mom know the truth. And that’s the way it will stay if I have anything to say about it.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about that,” she adds after gauging my reaction.

“Sorry. It’s not something I really like to discuss.”

“I totally understand.” She gives me an apologetic smile, and I feel guilty.

“It’s just really difficult to talk about,” I explain.

“Really, Miles, it’s okay.” She reaches for her wine. “So other than Rachel, have you had any serious relationships? If I remember right, you jumped around a lot in high school.” She gives me a look that brings a smile to my face.

“You noticed that, huh?” I chuckle.

“I think the whole world noticed. It’s not like you were discreet about it.”

“I suppose not.”

“So have you? Had any other serious relationships.”

“Not really. There was one other girl I kind of dated for a while. We were stationed together in Hawaii before my first tour. She was a nice distraction but nothing that would have stuck long term.”

“A nice distraction.” Harlow rolls her eyes. “Sounds like that’s what most of your relationships have been. If that’s what you can even call them.”

“You’re not wrong there.” I don’t try to disagree. “I’m not proud of it,” I admit. “If I could go back I would probably do a lot of things differently.”

“You say that now, but somehow I find that hard to believe.” Harlow gives me a doubtful look before tipping the wine glass to her lips.

“Maybe you’re just jealous because I never tried to make a move on you.” I fish for a reaction, not sure what type of response I’m hoping for.

“Ha. You wish.” She sets her wine glass down and pins her green eyes on me. “Me, the girl who has never had a casual hookup in her life. Pretty sure I’m not your speed.”

“Wait, what?” I choke out, my reaction confusing her.

“What?” She looks around the room like she’s missing something.

“You’ve never had a casual hook up before?”

“Why are you looking at me like that’s hard to believe?” I can tell she’s not sure if she should be offended or not.

“Because it is,” I tell her, watching her brows crease. “I mean, have you looked at yourself? You’re gorgeous, Low.” Her cheeks pink at my comment. “You mean to tell me that you walk around looking like that and you haven’t had at least one guy talk you into his bed and it not amount to anything?”   

“Um, pretty sure no one has ever tried,” she says meekly, quickly retrieving her wine from the table.

“Not fucking possible,” I disagree.

“It’s true,” she insists. “Not saying I would hook up with anyone but...”

“How many people have you slept with?” I ask, watching the blush on her face deepen further.

“You can’t just ask me that.” She shakes her head. “How many people have you slept with?” she fires back at me.

“I don’t honestly know. Thirty. Forty, maybe.”

“Forty?” She sputters on her wine, barely getting the drink down without choking. “Wait, you said maybe. How do you not know an exact number?”

“I haven’t really been keeping track,” I admit.

“Wow. You really are a whore. I always knew it but hearing it out loud.” She shakes her head. “Forty,” she says like she’s still trying to process.

“Maybe thirty,” I interject on a laugh.

“That’s awful that you don’t actually know the number.”

“And I suppose you do,” I challenge, hoping she’ll give me a straight answer this time.

“It’s not hard to keep track of.” She holds up her hand, two fingers sticking straight up.

“Two?”

“I’ve been with Alan for almost ten years. Before him, there was only Tyson.”

“Tyson Hames?”

“Yep.” She nods.

“You lost your virginity to Tyson Hames?” I say, having never cared for the guy.

“Don’t look at me like that. You don’t even know how many women you’ve slept with.” Her forehead creases as she stares back at me. “I bet you can’t even remember your first.”

“Bea Martin.” I give her a shit-eating grin.

“As in Winston’s ex, Bea Martin?” She cocks a brow.

“He dated her after.”

“Ewww.” She crinkles her nose. “I knew you guys shared things, but that is taking it a bit far.”

I clutch my stomach as laughter rumbles through me.

“We can change the subject now.” She playfully narrows her gaze at me.

“Sure,” I quickly agree, taking this opportunity to revert the conversation back to her. “So, Tyson Hames, huh? I know you all dated, but damn. You could have done way better.”

“How do you even know him? We were five years below you.”

“I was pretty close with his brother in high school. I went to their house quite a few times. Never cared for the kid.”

“Last time I checked, you didn’t care for many people back then. Unless they had a pussy between their legs.”

Laughter erupts from my mouth for a second time, and Harlow’s eyes go wide. It takes her a moment to realize why I’m laughing and once she does, a slow smile breaks across her face.

God, this girl. I don’t know what she’s doing to me. When I’m with her, I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time. I can’t remember a moment in the last eight years where I’ve smiled so much or laughed so effortlessly. I don’t know what it is about her – what makes me feel almost at peace.

Since she’s been home, things have felt easier. I find myself thinking more about her than obsessing over the demons that haunt me daily. I find myself closing my eyes and seeing her face instead of his. I hear her voice instead of screams. And for a brief moment I forget.

Unfortunately, as soon as I fall asleep, it all comes back. I’ve accepted at this point that I will never know a good night’s sleep again. I guess that’s the price I’ll pay for my sins. Not a high enough price if you ask me.

“I’m sorry. That word coming out of your mouth seems so out of place.” I break out of my thoughts and refocus on Harlow who’s smiling at me from across the table.

“You’re as bad as Winston. I’m twenty-nine years old, Miles. I can say pussy.” She tries to hold a straight face, but within seconds she dissolves into laughter. “You’re right. It feels dirty,” she admits, finishing off her fourth glass of wine.

“I think maybe I should cut you off.” I gesture to the empty glass she sits on the table.

“I think maybe you’re right. I really should have eaten more before swilling four glasses of wine.”

“Probably would have been a good idea.”

“I just, after Alan and everything, I didn’t really have an appetite.”

“I get it. We can get them to box that up for you. Maybe you’ll feel up to eating later.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she agrees, falling silent for a long moment before turning her gaze back up to mine. “Thank you for this, Miles. I feel like all I’ve done recently is thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I do. First the job, then stepping in with Alan, and now taking me to dinner to try to get my mind off of it. If I didn’t know any better, Miles Hollins, I’d say you’re a closet sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t get your hope up,” I tell her on, smiling.

“Actions and words.” She ticks her finger at me.

“Give it time. My true colors eventually show through.” I try to be playful, but deep down I truly mean it. I always find a way to fuck things up.

“Guess we’ll see.” She shrugs.

“Guess we will,” I agree. “You about ready to get out of here?”

“Yes and no.” She chews on her bottom lip, the action drawing my gaze to her mouth.

“What does that mean?” I force my eyes back up, the action taking everything I have.

“It means yes, I’m ready to leave here. But no, because I need to sober up before I can go home.”

“Not necessary considering you’re crashing at my place tonight.”

“I am not staying with you,” she says, half panicked.

“Relax. I’m not taking you home to take advantage of you. I live a block from here, and you’re in no condition to drive. You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“No funny business?” she teases, instantly relaxing.

“You have my word.”

“Then fine. I’ll go home with you tonight.”

“Six words I never dreamed I’d hear you say,” I smirk.