Page 157 of Wanna Play A Game?

“Cali.” Miles clears his throat. He sounds serious and I shoot a glance his way.

He rubs the back of his neck, a light layer of sweat over his skin. I hate that he looks good enough to lick.

“I’m sorry for looking through your phone. It wasn’t my place, and I should have asked.”

I stutter a step, then stop fully. Did he just…apologize? I can count on one hand the times someone has apologized to me in my life.

Miles stops walking and looks back at me with a surprised look.

I shut my mouth. “Uh…”

“And I’m sorry for…what you’ve gone through. We’ve all been a bit harsh.”

I sputter. “A bit?”

Miles nods. “I’m sorry.”

I wait for more. More arguing, more excuses, more anything. But he just keeps walking. I snap my mouth shut.

“What about Sawyer?”

“What about him?”

“Is he sorry?”

Miles shakes his head. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Nope, not good enough.” I glare at Miles.

He gives a soft chuckle. “I’m not Sawyer, Cali. I can’t tell you what’s in his head.”

“But surely you have an idea. He is your boyfriend, after all.”

Miles shrugs. He’s silent for a bit, as if he’s debating what he’s going to say next. Finally, he says, “All I know is he’s the most unhappy I’ve ever seen him. He hasn't been the same after you kicked him out of his room.”

Good. That’s what he deserves. All the same, my heart clenches.

We continue to walk, the sound of our shoes and the birds loud. I don’t know how to act. The truth is, since I’ve shut Miles and Sawyer out, I’ve been the most unsettled I’ve been since I got here.

But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? I’m a prisoner. So why haven’t I tried to run in a long time?

Fuck, I wish I never drank the night we sat up on the tank. I wish we could have stayed in that little pretend bubble. Miles was pissy with me, but now I know he was trying to protect me. Ryder ignored me, or pretended to ignore me. And Sawyer? Fuck.

I’ve fallen behind Miles. I clench my fists. “Miles.”

He doesn’t turn, but he slows. “I guess, for what it’s worth…thanks for trying to help me. The other night.”

His muscled back tenses and then relaxes. “You don’t have to thank me, Cali. There isn’t anything I won’t do for you.”

Against my will, warmth runs through me, and I realize that I actually believe him. Which scares the living shit out of me.

We walk in silence. Miles grabs my hand as we get closer to the house.

I freeze. “What are you doing?”

He holds it gently. If I yank, I can get it away. Because of how loosely he holds me, I let it rest there.

“Touching you,” he says simply. He rubs his thumb along the top of my hand, sending goosebumps up my arm.