for, liar

Chapter 63

Homemade cheesy bread is a game changer. No more Little Caesars crazy bread. No more Papa John's garlic knots. No more Pizza Hut breadsticks. The only thing worth my time and energy is the consumption of Miles' cheesy bread, which I devoured relentlessly in less than five minutes. It was a chaotic crime scene and I am not ashamed.

"I haven't eaten this much food in my life. I don't think I can get up." I groan, throwing my legs over Miles' lap on the couch.

He laughs and finishes off another bottle of Mike's. "I knew you could do it. I'm proud of you, babe."

I scrunch my nose and look at him. "Ew."

He chuckles, takes one of my feet in both of his hands, and gently presses into the bottom of it. "What?" He asks.

I almost forgot what I was going to say. His hands feel amazing and he somehow always manages to hit every pressure point perfectly.

"You called me babe."

He laughs and keeps his hand movements steady. "You don't like pet names?" He asks.

I shrug and look at him. He's staring right at me still.

"I'm mutual. It just threw me off." I admit.

I've never been addressed as baby, babe, or anything of the sorts. I always thought pet names were stupid but now I feel I'm kind of bias when it comes to Miles. He can call me whatever he wants.

"So my dad gets off at 6:30. He should be here around 7. That should give you plenty of time to shower and do whatever you need to do to prepare for that."

If I would've known we were going to get into a baking brawl, I would've brought a change of clothes. I feel completely unprepared so I'm thinking the trip back to the apartment would be worth it.

"Yeah, I can just run back to my place and be back here by the time he gets off." I say.

He nods and switches to the other foot. I want to get up and be productive, but he's making it extremely hard to do so with the massages.

"C'mon, I gotta go."

I do mean it though I'm still hoping he keeps going.

"Then go." He says and adds a little more pressure.

I chuckle, digging my front teeth into the end of my tongue. "I'm trying. It just feels too good to leave."

He smirks and slowly inches his fingers up the side of my leg.

"You're always so tense." He whispers.

"I'm always on my feet."

"Mhm." He hums and digs his fingers into my thigh.

I could fall asleep just like this but I gotta go get ready. I have to make a better impression.

"Let me go get ready!" I plead, wistfully pulling away from his hands.

I stand on my feet and look around for wherever I put my shoes. He gets up, noticing what I was looking for, and goes to the kitchen to grab them.

"I'm cooking dinner tonight so come with an appetite." he says and passes over my sneakers.

"After all we just ate? Are you trying to fatten me up?"

He laughs, beaming a full smile to show off his shiny teeth. They looked expensive.

I can't even imagine how much money went into Miles' dental work. The few pictures I saw of him as a kid looked way too unbelievable compared to him now. Seeing what his father does, the price of braces was probably just a penny to him.

"Should I bake a dessert or something? I don't want to show up empty handed. I'll feel like a loser."

As if I could feel any more like a loser after my first encounter with his father consisted of me being the Pillsbury dough boy and Miles halfway undressed.

"You don't have to bring anything. Everything is provided by me tonight so just bring your pretty face."

One day he's going to let me do something nice for him.

"Okay, fine. I'll see you soon."

I give him a quick peck on his lips and hurry out the door. It's a little past two, meaning I have four hours until I should leave the apartment to be back here.

When I get home, I take no time to rush straight to the bathroom and hop in the shower. I'm glad I was finally able to get the rest of the flour out and smell like something other than a morning bakery.

Maddy's still at work leaving me the chance to blast my music in the apartment and avoid her commentary on my music choice. When it's unavoidable, Maddy lives to judge my music moods.

I try my best to find excitement while I'm getting ready just so I can push away some of my nervousness. William Hart seems to be a very sophisticated guy and I really like his son, so I have to make tonight great for the sake of both of us.

It takes way too much time trying to figure out what to wear that I clear out half of my closet on my bed to look through everything. I know if I just look at every dress that I own side by side, it'll help me decide which one is right for me. It's just going to take a few dozen processes of elimination.

The black dress is not an option for tonight no matter how closely I hold it to my heart.

I pick up the light pink, floral pattern sundress and examine it. Autumn is about to roll in and I won't be able to wear this dress until next year. Since it's still hot outside, I guess tonight would be the perfect time.

I've only worn this dress twice. My mom had gotten it for me for Easter a few years ago and I didn't like it at first, so I didn't wear it again after the holiday. Now it's grown on me and I'm excited for Miles to see me in it. I just want everything to be perfect.

By the time I'm dolled up and halfway back to Miles' house, it's a little past 5:30. I have a little extra time to run by the store and grab something because I would feel guilty about showing up empty handed. I can't just not bring anything. My mother taught me to always show up to important dinners with either chocolate or alcohol. Her advice has not let me down yet. Well, her welcoming advice. Everything else, I'm not so sure about.

I pull into the Food Lion parking lot and jog inside to grab a dessert. All of the bakery items look delicious. What would I even pick? I could just go grab a bottle of wine or something, but I don't want his dad to think I'm weird for showing up with just alcohol. I don't even know how he feels about alcohol if he has any feelings about it at all.

I made my last minute decision to get a chocolate mousse pie and walk over to checkout. They get me out of there with plenty of time left to make it back to Miles. I refuse to be the last person there and make them wait on me.

Revised;