Extraits

Chapitre 1 :

«… Il me lança un regard mauvais lorsqu’il eut repris le contrôle de sa situation et il secoua la tête.

— Tu as failli me tuer, bon sang.

— Qu’est-ce que j’ai dit ? Les sous-vêtements ?

— Oui ! Quand l’homme de tes rêves parle de tes sous-vêtements, ça peut provoquer une crise cardiaque à une fille !

Je soufflai à sa remarque outrageante. C’était tellement… Miles. Il était trop rapide pour moi. …»

Chapitre 1 :

«… — Je crois qu’il veut dire qu’il veut que tu acceptes enfin l’offre de Miles de voir son string Batman.

Je repoussai Josh et jetai un regard furieux à Eric.

— Dis-moi qu’il plaisante, s’il te plaît

— Bien sûr qu’il plaisante, gronda Eric, alors que Zane se garait sur une place de parking devant l’établissement vinicole. Je voulais juste dire que ce serait bien que tu fasses un effort pour dire plus que « bonjour » et « au revoir ». Tu as tendance à l’ignorer dans les situations de tête-à-tête, Grant, et…

— Non, je ne fais pas ça, insistai-je, en fronçant les sourcils.

— Tu as tendance à l’ignorer, répéta Eric en levant les sourcils d’un air entendu. Je comprends. Miles est très énergique et a beaucoup de culot. Je sais qu’il est parfois difficile à supporter, mais il traverse une période compliquée. Sois gentil.

Il leva la main quand il vit que j’étais sur le point de me défendre.

— Ne t’enfuis pas, au moins, conclut-il.

— Il me fait peur, lâchai-je, en ne plaisantant qu’à moitié. En plus, je doute qu’il me remarque s’il y a soixante ou soixante-dix personnes là-bas.

— Mec, pour un homme intelligent, tu es spectaculairement ignorant parfois, s’exclama Josh en simulant la consternation en secouant la tête avant de faire signe à Finn d’ouvrir la portière.

— Qu’est-ce que c’est censé vouloir dire ? dis-je en rétrécissant mon regard sur Eric. Attends. Tu n’essayes pas de nous piéger, n’est-ce pas ?…»

I swallowed hard and adjusted my sunglasses, grateful for the thin shield, though I was pretty sure I wasn’t hiding much. Miles’ playful demeanor and impish grin always made me feel like I was two steps behind no matter how hard I tried to keep up.

You don’t have to keep up, I reminded myself. Just be nice.

“Uh… right. And what is your beverage of choice?” “Margaritas,” he answered quickly. “Preferably frozen like a good ol’ fashioned Slushie. Just add tequila and yum… insta heaven!”

“Slushies are sugar water,” I said woodenly.

“Correction. They’re the bomb…dot diddly com.” Miles winked before lifting his wineglass and taking another healthy sip.

“Right,” I replied lamely.

I wracked my brain for a breezy conversation starter but breezy wasn't my specialty. And any phone call home usually drained me of my meager social graces for a short time before I was able to rally. I wished he wasn't sitting on this bench because it was where I wanted to be to collect myself and regroup before joining my friends. I opened my mouth to say God knows what, but he beat me to it.

“You look hot,” he commented idly. “Then again, you always do. You must get tired of random people drooling over you.”

I huffed with amusement. I felt like a kid in grownup clothes at the moment. Not hot in the slightest.

“Thanks. So do you,” I replied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the bench. Though now that I was closer, I realized he looked paler and thinner than normal. Miles was the kind of skinny that didn't have any fat to spare. In spite of the cocky grin, I was beginning to see why Eric was concerned. “Which superhero are you wearing today?”

Miles let out a weary sigh and then looked away as he tilted his wineglass back. “No superheroes today.”

“What? No Spiderman ties or Deadpool socks?” He shook his head in response. I knew I was just giving him ammunition but something made me add, “What about underwear?”

Miles snorted and immediately choked on his wine. He held his glass out and then doubled over in a coughing fit the second I took it from him. I patted his back awkwardly, not sure what the protocol was now. He yanked his sunglasses off and wiped tears from his eyes. When he had himself under control again, he shot me a dirty look and shook his head.

“Jesus, you almost killed me,” he gasped.

“What did I say? Underwear?”

“Yes! When the man of your dreams mentions your unmentionables, it's liable to give a girl a heart attack!”

I snorted at his outrageous remark. It was so… Miles.