Page 57 of Hidden

I waved my hand in the air. How simpleminded he was. “Plans can change depending on the circumstance. Punishments must always reflect the nature of the crime. And right now, he deserves a good slap.”

“Youjustsaid you were going to stomp on him,” Miles said. “And within the span of thirty seconds you changed it again.”

“But I can’t hit him on the face…” I muttered, touching my chin. I was a fair individual, and he was attractive. It was bad enough Bryce had been ripped apart by a demon. I didn’t like to see so much pain and suffering.

I should probably wait until after Bryce was better.

“Where’s my money anyway?” I glanced back to Miles. “Damen said Bryce had my money. Where is Bryce? Is he at the school?”

Miles eyebrow rose slowly. He studied me as if he’d never seen me before. “Now you’re looking for Bryce? He’s cancelled classes today.”

I nodded, pulling my hospital gown away from my body and glancing at it disdainfully. The smell made me gag. Why in the world hadn’t Titus insisted I bathe last night? “I need to take a shower. Where is there a shower? I need to go shopping.”

“You’re making all sorts of plans.” Miles sounded amused. “What about your classes?”

“They can wait until Monday. I need to go to the registrar’s office, too.” Miles suddenly looked way too innocent. I narrowed my eyes at him. Didn’thehave classes today? “Why aren’t you in school?”

His skin flushed. “I wanted to see that you were okay. I missed you,” he said, shyly.

And with that, I melted. I couldn’t think of a single response.

I’d missed him, too. It should have been simple to say, but my lips wouldn’t form the words. It was easy to joke with him, but had we ever discussed his feelings? I’d talked to Damen, Julian, and now Titus about their strange expectations.

However, Miles never expressed much of an opinion on the topic. He was an enigma. And I had no idea what he was thinking. About me—or this whole plan.

“Oh, come here.” His voice was gruff. He grabbed my smock and pulled me into him. The top of my head fit perfectly under his chin, and his arms held me to him. I could feel the pounding of his heart and hear the shuddering intake of his breath.

“I missed you,” he said again. “I skipped classes every day.”

The heat fled from my face, and disappointment replaced my nervousness.

“Miles!” I tried to push back, but his hold was solid. “Miles, you’ll fail!”

“Oh please.” Miles sounded amused. “I have the top grades in my year.”

His words did little to reassure me. “Did you really skip classes every day?” It was bad enough I had missed my classes, and I was no valedictorian.

“I’ll tell you if you take a shower,” Miles said, releasing me and turning me to face another door. He pushed through the entrance and turned on the lights.

Unlike the bedroom, the bathroom retained the style of the house. Stone and marble covered the space, and a claw-footed tub with a shower was nestled in the far corner of the room. Behind it, a stained-glass window reflected squares of red and orange onto the floor.

I raised my eyebrow, glancing at Miles.

Before I had to explain, Miles picked up on my question. So, apparently, this had come up in conversation before.

“Damen doesn’t care what we do to our bedrooms, except for changes to the framework. But he says he doesn’t want to compromise the integrity of the ancient plumbing…” Miles paused, rubbing his forehead. “Or something stupid. He’s slowly trying to repurpose the interior. He’s freaky about art and antiques.”

That gave me hope. “Is he planning on doing something about the outside?”

Miles sighed. “He doesn’t care what it looks like. I think he does it to keep the property taxes down, and he’s gotten no permits for remodeling. He won’t let anyone come inside. He’s been trying to scare people off. Sometimes he and Titus go into the woods and shoot their guns to make sure that the value of the area doesn’t go up.”

What in the world?

I stared at him, surprised, as Miles turned on the water and proceeded to pull fluffy towels out from under the sink. He set the towels aside. “It’s not that weird,” he argued.

No, it definitely was very strange. The guy owned a Jaguar.

“Don’t misunderstand. Damen isn’t cheap.” Miles correctly read my expression. “He’s actually the worst with money management. He does this because he doesn’t want neighbors moving in nearby or unwelcome visitors. Despite how he acts, Damen is anextremelyprivate person. When you first showed up, he was probably panicking. No student knows where he lives. If he ended up not liking you, he might have killed Gregory.”