Page 58 of Paint Our Song

Calvin goes rigid. For a horrifying moment Miles thinks he’s miscalculated this, but then there’s a hand on the front of his shirt and Calvin’s lips press back against his—and it’s oddly tender and slow, not quite what Miles is used to, and not in a bad way. He runs his tongue between Calvin’s lips, asking for permission, and Calvin gives it to him. Calvin’s mouth is hot and wet, and when Miles deepens the kiss, Calvin’s breath hitches, and the sound of it splinters Miles’s rapidly disintegrating thoughts.

He backs Calvin up against the parapet, cradles his face, and when their hips slot together, Calvin inhales sharply.

Then Calvin’s phone rings in his pocket, and everything shatters.

Calvin pulls away with wide eyes, and it catches Miles off-guard, making him stumble forward, and Calvin holds his arm to steady him.

He watches with disappointment as Calvin takes a large step away.

Ignore it,Miles wants to say as Calvin takes his phone out. Calvin scowls at his screen and for a moment Miles thinks he’s going to throw it over the roof. Hell, he’ll throw it himself.

He declines the call instead, then looks over at Miles with a somewhat mortified expression.

Talk about mixed signals.

Calvin says, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” Miles blanches, then he takes a moment to recompose himself. It feels as if someone threw a pail of ice over his head. “I—sorry? I thought you were into it.”

“I… Yeah, I was—” Calvin’s voice trails off. “What brought that on?”

Miles meets his gaze. “I like you.” Which,duh.He spent about fifteen minutes holding his hands and memorizing every line on his palm.“Last night, when you attacked me—”

“I didn’tattackyou—”

“I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone so badly as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

“You don’t want this.”

Miles almost chokes in surprise. He’s going to get whiplash. “I don’t want this, oryoudon’t want this?”

Calvin’s mouth opens as if he wants to say something, then he closes it again.

“I’m sorry. Let’s forget the whole thing, and if you don’t want to speak to me after this I’ll underst—”

“I’ve got too much baggage,” Calvin blurts out.

“You… what?”

“Iwasinto it, clearly. But I wasn’t thinking. I’m not… fuck. How do I say this?” In a seemingly hopeless way, Calvin takes his phone out and shows him the lit-up screen, Theo’s calling, and Miles’s heart sinks. He must have switched it to silent because it’s not making any sounds, but the way that name flashes on the screen is loud enough. In a jerky movement, Calvin shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh.” The realization sinks in, and it’s so incredibly painful. “You’re still in love with—”

“No. God, no.” Calvin cuts him off before he can say his name. “I don’t care about him, and I haven’t in a really long time. We were on-and-off for years, and yeah, this time we’re absolutely done, but that doesn’t make things any easier.” He waves at his pocket. “He doesn’t make it any easier.”

“So, stop answering his calls,” Miles says, because it’s the most obvious solution to him.

“I can’t. If I don’t talk him down from the hell he could break loose, then it’ll get worse for everyone. Instead of an easy separation, he might bring his own lawyers in, and demand the majority of the song rights. It’s all very stupid, and I don’t think I have it in me to watch him and Chase go at it again. And on top of that, he’s been trying to convince me to leave the band, too, so that we can be a duo. A fucking duo. When we’ve broken up.”

“Jesus.” Miles lets out an exhale and closes his eyes. Calvin’s stress is stressing him out, too, but at least one of them has to keep it together.

Calvin says, voice weak, “You think I’m a doormat.”

“No. Of course not,” Miles says. “I’d never think that.”

“That’s the tip of the iceberg, too. I haven’t had a place to live in for a few weeks now. I’ve been moving from hotel to hotel and staying at my parents’ house a lot. That’s why all my shit’s at their place.”

“Why don’t you have a place to live?”