Page 92 of Paint Our Song

“Slow down, honey. We need to make sure it stays this way first.” The corner of her eyes crinkle and she chuckles. “Will I see you back in the house?”

Oh. Uh. Miles blushes—no, he doesn’t think so, if he has a choice.

“Staying in Calvin’s room again, I see?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

“Please don’t tease me like that,” he says, mortified. “How do you even know about that?”

“Miles, I’m your mother. What kind of ridiculous question is that? Why are you even so embarrassed? You’re young, and Calvin’s a great guy, and you’re clearly very into him. Just remember to make good choices—”

His face flames. “No, nooo, pleasestop.”

She pats him on the arm, smiling.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“Yes,” she says. “You did good. I’m proud of you, and I’m sure your dad is, too.”

That makes him beam. “Okay, but seriously… If these bookings keep up, you can take a step back from the inn and travel like you wanted to. Gabby will be here to take care of everything.”

“She does deserve the general manager position, like you said.”

He nods, glad that she’s never disagreed with him when it came to that.

Mom fiddles with the pendant Dad gave her, and she looks toward the lake with a forlorn expression. “I’ll be able to visit all the places your Dad and I talked about, once everything’s sorted out.”

“Oh… is that why you wanted to travel?” Why has he never asked this before?

“Yes. We’ve always had places we wanted to see, but he was taken from us too early.”

Miles’s chest hurts suddenly, and he rubs his sternum, frowning. When Mom looks back at him, he drops his hand and plasters on a smile. “I’ll make that happen, Ma.”

“I’ve no doubt,” she grins, ruffling his hair.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Miles takes off toward Calvin’s room. He rushes to the lobby, jabbing at the elevator buttons. It takes too long, so Miles sprints up the staircase instead, taking the steps two at a time.

When he passes by Chase’s room, he can hear him speaking, and Gil’s in there, too. Turns out their batteries haven’t depleted, either.

He stops in front of Calvin’s room and knocks on the door. At first, there’s no response, so he knocks even harder—he could give up and leave, but he won’t. He’ll wake him up if it’s the last thing he does.

There’s shuffling from the other side of the room, then the door opens. Calvin blinks slowly at him, drowsy, and his hair’s a mess on one side from where he fell asleep on it. He hasn’t changed out of Miles’s suit, his tie still loose around his neck.

“Why are you panting?” Calvin murmurs. He narrows his eyes, as if he’s still trying to refocus, as if his brain hasn’t caught up yet, andMiles steps inside the room.

“Totally not because I ran up the stairs.”

Calvin squints. “What time is it?”

“Eleven,” Miles says, gently closing the door behind him. Before Calvin can say anything else, he puts his hands on Calvin’s cheeks and kisses him.

“Miles?” Calvin asks when he pulls away, and he’s definitely more awake now, eyes wide and face flush. He holds Miles’s wrist and rubs a thumb against his skin.

“We’re booked out.”

“That’s great. How’d that happen?”

“Your band went viral and reached more than a hundred thousand people.”