Midnight\\C.H.

...16...

"I had a really great night," Miles smirks at me outside my hotel door, his thumb grazing over my cheek as he stares into my eyes.

I smile back at him, my tummy flipping as his eyes dart to my lips and linger as he leans into me. My head moves forward to meet him and his lips press to mine. My chest and hands become warm as his mouth moves against mine, but it always stops there. The past two weeks we have kissed multiple times, butterflies always taking flight, but never the urge for more. Every time his lips leave mine, I'm pleased, satisfied with the affection shared, but that small touch of craving for more stays extinct.

So this time I force it and step into him, brushing the tip of my tongue over his lip before his caresses in return. My tummy flips with excitement, but I notice it only stays there. I part my lips and his tongue slides over mine, the feeling pleasurable, but only to my mouth. My arms wrap around his neck and his hands squeeze my waist before he steps me into the wall, pressing his body into mine and I finally feel something. A small spark lit as my lower tummy swirls.

He moans lightly before he twists his tongue around mine; the sensation delectable but still not enough to continue the swirls and I deflate. I pull away, acting like I'm catching my breath, but unfortunately neither my breath nor heart rate were affected by the interaction, frustrating the fuck out of me. He licks his lip as he grins at me, a hunger burning in his eyes that I can't feed.

"I should get to bed," I smile back, needing space to think or scream or cry. Hell maybe all three.

"Okay," he looks at the ground while chewing his cheek and then back up to me, trying to control his yearning.

"I had a great night. Thank you," I hug him, being truly honest.

I enjoy his company. I adore him. He is truly perfect; so kind and genuine and a real real gentleman. He makes me laugh and feel safe while accepting me for who I am with the freedom to be me shamelessly. So why can't his touch or kiss turn me to putty?

"Goodnight, Lotti," he beams at me as I shut the door and I wave my fingers before the door clicks, releasing a deep exhale.

I drop my head to the door and close my eyes, hating this. I hate this so much! Why is this happening? I sigh and throw my purse on the chair before I flop on the hotel bed, knowing why.

I still love Calum.

I wasn't going to get over him in two weeks. I knew that. We barely talk, only during the day like normal while I work as his hired assistant and when he needs me professionally. The only other times have been the three times I have called him after a date with Miles.

The first time was after our first date back on tour, three days after I cried in Calum's arms on his couch and kissed him deeply; my mind screaming for him to whisk me to his room the whole time we made out, but he didn't. I cried to him on the phone then too, confessing how hard it was knowing I was actively forcing myself to get over him. And that's when he stopped replying as much to my texts and completely stopped his texts to check in on me. It hurt, but I understood.

The second time was to tell him how Miles had kissed me and it made me happy, but I felt guilty it did. Calum told me it was okay, and that he just wanted me to be happy and if that was from Miles then it was a good thing, because Miles was a good guy. I knew he was right, but it hurt my heart that he was.

The third time was actually when he called me incredibly drunk after a fight with Cecil. She took a redeye home just to get away from him sooner and he called me to tell me how happy he was I was out being treated well while he got what he deserved. I offered several times to come over to console him, but he wouldn't allow me too, telling me I had to stay away from him. It was for the best. And I knew he was right. Things happen between us after midnight.