Page 5 of Final Temptation (Alpine Peak #2)

For fuck’s sake.

I never should have messaged Myles or pulled up that stupid app.

Now, I was stuck obsessing over the fact that he’d read my message without a care in the world to respond.

Clearly, I was old news. We shared one kiss and hadn’t talked since.

He had to be on to the next thing—someone who would put out more for him.

Something more than a kiss. He was the same old Myles I’d always known him to be—a player and a fuck boy.

Let’s be real, a guy like that wasn’t fazed by a one-kiss wonder.

The buzz was getting to my head, so I turned off the TV, set my martini glass in the sink, and decided to get ready for bed. Just as I began my nightly skin care routine, my phone vibrated.

My skin broke out in goosebumps, and my pulse thumped through my ears.

I couldn’t tell you why I was so frazzled at the idea of Myles messaging me back. Maybe it was because I hated to lose control, and when I gave in and wrote him a message, he now had every ounce of it.

With a shaky breath, I turned over my phone to check the notification, and sure enough, it was a message on the dating app. Just below my text from earlier was his response.

Myles: Hello to you too, Princess. Are you here to admit that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me?

Ugh. He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t right either. I had no problem forgetting he existed—that was until I was lonely, like tonight.

Me: Cocky per usual. Maybe I was just bored. Call it a weak moment.

Suddenly, it felt like we would have this back-and-forth banter, and I didn’t want it to stop just because I took too long to respond. So, deciding to ditch my skin care routine, I headed to my bedroom while I waited for him to message back.

Myles: Am I who you think of in your weak moments, Sophie?

It was only moments before he shot back his next message and my cheeks burned red, suddenly feeling every overwhelming emotion that stood between nervous and hot-and-bothered.

Me: Considering this has been my one and only weak moment, sure Myles, you’re who I think about.

Myles: What was it that made you want to message me for the first time?

Leaning back on my memory foam pillow, I fidgeted with my baby blue silk pajama top, fluffing my tits as if we were about to video chat, when clearly, we weren’t. Surely, it would only be a few text messages, but just his name on my screen had goosebumps running down my spine.

Damnit, stop fidgeting and think, Sophie. Why do I want to message him again?

Me: Like I said, maybe I was just bored…

Myles: Are you trying to use me as a booty call, Soph?

My jaw popped open. I am not the one to call the booty; the booty calls me.

Me: I can take care of myself. Your booty isn’t necessary, thank you.

I smiled with a smug grin.

Good one, Sophie.

Myles: You’re avoiding the question, Sophie. Why did you message me?

Jesus, this man is persistent.

Me: You want the truth?

Myles: Nothing but the truth.

How come the truth seemed so…complicated? Sure, I was lonely. But not only in the sexual sense. Yes, I craved the company of a hot guy, but I also craved conversation and someone to simply hang out with.

Ever since I’d been out of work, life had a sense of quiet that felt crippling.

I wasn’t normally the vulnerable type. My crutch was my upbeat, bubbly personality.

People were so used to judging me based on their first impression, they really had no idea about the thoughts and insecurities that ran through my head on a daily basis.

The screen between us gave me a different kind of confidence. I felt like I could say anything, and if he decided to judge me for it, I’d continue with what I had been doing—avoiding him in person. Duh.

Me: I was lonely. I wasn’t necessarily looking for a booty call. I was just bored. Craving company. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I stopped working at Peaks a couple months ago and I’ve had very limited interactions with people these days. I was just lonely, as dumb as that sounds.

I shot off one more text, trying to laugh off the shift in our conversation.

Me: I also had one martini too many tonight, so you could say my mind isn’t fully right.

Pulling my plush white comforter up to my chest, my heart pounded, and my fingernails desperately needed a manicure. I’d bitten them down to the quick as I waited for his message.

Why do I care so much what Myles thinks? Why do I suddenly feel like he can see straight through my phone screen and sense every worry line etched in my forehead?

Myles: That’s not dumb at all. I can relate to the feeling of loneliness.

I scoffed at my screen, my fingers working quick to respond.

Me: You? Myles Cooper? The man with an overflowing black book to keep you company is lonely?

Myles: Fair. But just because I’ve kept myself busy, doesn’t mean I’m not lonely. If I remember right, about six months ago I told you all those women had been an excuse to fill a void.

Me: I do recall you saying something about an empty feeling…

I was insanely drunk that night, but I recall our interaction so often that the small details are easily memorable. Sinking deeper into my lush bedding, the memory of that night almost swallowed me whole.

Myles: It gets lonely around here when your world flips upside down.

When all the people you used to consider friends, you can no longer hang around because they aren’t what you need in your life.

Or when you cut yourself off from the one thing that used to make the time go by so fast that you would forget if you were happy, sad, lonely or mad.

Fuck. I had to admit this sudden vulnerability dump felt good.

Chatting with someone who could understand me on this level was rare.

But I also felt like such an ass for mentioning I was drinking.

I didn’t even think twice about Myles being sober, when that should have been the first thing on my mind.

Me: Fuck, Myles. I’m so sorry I brought up the drinks I’ve had tonight…and I didn’t even take a second to think if that would make you feel uncomfortable or not.

Myles: It’s all good. I’m getting better at being around it and hearing people talk about it. I don’t want to control what others do just because I’m weak when it comes to alcohol.

Me: Still, I should have thought about it.

My palm found my forehead. I’d always been blunt, saying anything that came to mind. While this was something I loved about myself, it was definitely a downfall in moments like this. Talk about a foot-in-mouth moment if I’ve ever seen one.

Myles: No worries. What’s up with you not working at the bar anymore?

Me: You mean you haven’t heard? My dad fired me.

Myles: I’ve clearly missed a lot the last few months. Mind filling me in?

Me: My dad has always wanted me to take over the bar when he retired.

Since it’s just me and him, I think he always assumed it would stay in the family.

When Paige started working at Peaks and I was able to have more time off, it gave me a moment to think and reflect.

I didn’t really want to work at the bar for the rest of my life.

Myles: I can understand that. What is it that you want to do?

A smile grew across my face. I couldn’t tell you the last time a man had taken actual interest in my life like Myles was right now.

Me: I’m not really sure…and that’s what pisses my dad off the most. He thinks I’m making a mistake by going back to school to figure it out. So, he let me go. He made it very clear that he wasn’t going to help me out if going back to school was what I chose to do.

Myles: Damn. So, what are you doing for work now?

Me: Not a damn thing—hence why I’ve been so lonely. I’m living off my savings, which will only get me so far. So, I’ve been trying to figure out what my next step is. I’ve considered selling feet pics on Only Fans, that should pay a pretty penny don’t you think?

Myles: LOL don’t resort to the feet.

Snapping a quick shot of my feet with my bright lavender polish, I pressed send.

Me: You don’t think these bad boys would do well?

Myles: I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask since I don’t have a foot fetish. But your legs…now those could make a pretty penny.

My cheeks warmed at his compliment, even if we were only joking.

Me: Good to know. I think the smarter move would be renting out my second room.

Myles: Anyone come to mind?

Me: Not a clue. My circle of trust isn’t that big, and I can’t see myself renting out my room to some random from Craigslist.

Myles: Do you trust me?

Uh…what did that have to do with anything? I hardly trusted myself texting him right now.

Me: What is that supposed to mean? Are you thinking about moving out of your parent’s house?

Myles: Well, the day had to come eventually and now that I’ve been getting my shit together, I think it’s something I’d be able to take on.

Something I want to do. Just another way to prove to myself that I’m a responsible adult.

What better way to do that, than to take on all your own bills without your parents’ help?

One minute, we are talking about booty calls and feet pics, and the next thing I knew, I was divulging that I have a free room and he was looking to move out? How did our conversation get here?

I had to admit, there would be a certain appeal to having a man around my apartment.

Someone to keep the stranger dangers away.

Someone to fix the janky dripping faucet.

Someone to look at when I was bored, like tonight.

There was a certain kind of charm in almost all of it, but there was one little problem…

Me: Your offer is tempting. But is that something we could manage? Being roommates? You know after our past…

Myles: Sophie, it was just one kiss. Six months ago. What could possibly go wrong?

My heart sped up. What could possibly go wrong? Well, Myles, let me get out my handy-dandy notebook and break it down for you.

Myles: Why don’t you sleep on my offer? We can talk soon, that is, if you want to.

Me: You’re right. I should sleep on this. My mind is a little foggy and could use some rest…

Myles: Goodnight, Sophie. Text me when you’ve had some time to think.

He listed his phone number in the message, and suddenly, this conversation felt a lot more personal than innocent back-and-forth banter on a dating app.

Me: Goodnight, Myles.

What could possibly go wrong? Just one kiss? Did he really just say that?

Why did it feel so much more than that for me? He made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal at all. That it would be an absolute breeze to cohabitate.

What could possibly go wrong? Uh, for starters, how about I could fall for the playboy that I swore to myself I’d never have feelings for?

I was bored. It was supposed to be a flirty, innocent conversation. Maybe it would lead to me pleasuring myself at the end of the night. Just a few dirty martinis, some shameless dirty texts I’d forget about in the morning, and a toy buzzing between my legs.

Nope. Not what I got at all.

Now, I’d somehow opened the door and invited the hottest guy who ever walked the streets of Alpine Peak to live in my apartment.