8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Avery

R andy's visits had always been weekly, as was my dancing habit, but with the move, I'd missed out on both recently.

After I'd left the last club night early, Chloe demanded a diner night in recompense, and so here I was. The lights for Randy's shone bright, highlighting the chrome exterior, the pink-and-blue sign hanging overhead like a beacon. Randy's Diner lay at the end of a block with rows of businesses, carving its mark on the Boston landscape, and I loved it a little more for that. Randy's had been a safe haven for years now, a utopia of queer safe space, and those types of spots needed to be preserved.

I walked up to the front double doors and pulled the handle. Heat blasted at me, and I stepped into the warm embrace, already feeling Boston's fall chill deep in my bones.

As usual, the host stand was empty. Most of the time, a staff member would pop up when someone unfamiliar with the seat yourself policy showed up. Besides, most groups had their regular corners. Anyone who frequented Randy's understood that. And no one dared to take Archie's spot. The old guy sat there nearly every night, and whoever ended up near him got regaled with stories about the dirigible he was building for him and Abigale. No one had met Abigale, so Chloe and I had an over-under that Abigale was his pet rock.

Chloe had parked herself in one of the booths on the right side of the diner. She waved at me, and I began my trek over, the murmurs of low conversation and the scents of burnt coffee and bacon whirling around me.

My gaze paused on the opposite end of the diner, landing squarely on a guy who'd become all too familiar these past few weeks.

Myles sat parked behind his computer, two guys in the booth beside him. Some days we hung out and shot the shit at home, while others we were ships in the night. He seemed to keep the oddest hours known to man. Mine weren't normal either, so our night owl habits meant we tended to both be up at midnight.

Today he had this attractive-as-fuck look about him, his gaze focused on the screen, his dark brown strands tousled, and his beard trimmed. If I sat close to him, I'd probably get a lungful of the patchouli from his body wash, which had my cock responding on automatic. Ever since the night he'd walked in on me jerking off, the tension between us had been a live wire. Except he wasn't crossing the line for more, and I'd been a little tipsy that night and bolder than normal, which had been a mistake.

Completely counterproductive to my plan not to sleep with my new roommate.

But fuck, he was so hot.

Myles hadn't looked my way—hell, he wasn't even looking up from his laptop—so I continued over to Chloe.

She peeked around the side of the booth, following my gaze. "Who're you staring at?"

"That's my new roommate." I pointed him out. "I should probably say hi."

"Uh, we're going to sit in the writers' corner." She hopped up from the seat. "Henry won't care."

My heart thumped a little harder. Myles and I had been in this bubble since I moved in, but somehow seeing him at the diner, in his circle of friends and me with mine, felt different. "Yeah, sure. Let's go." My legs transported me in that direction even before my mind had caught up. Myles might not want to be bothered—he seemed to be working on a project pretty avidly—so maybe it was best if we'd just say hi and retreat to our original spot.

Chloe looped her arm around mine and all but marched us over. Clearly, she wouldn't be deterred. Fuck, I was going to miss her. I bumped my hip against hers, and she offered me a brilliant grin, her blue eyes sparkling. With her near-black lipstick, black choker, and adorable black dress with pleats, she was in full goth attire.

We stopped in front of Myles's table, and both of his friends looked up, but he was too absorbed in whatever project he worked on.

"Hey, Myles," I said, offering a wave to try to draw his attention.

"Good luck," one of the guys said. "He's in the thick of his manuscript."

"Manuscript?" I asked, an infernal curiosity bubbling to the surface again. My mind whirred as the pieces stacked into place.

Myles whipped his head up, his eyes widening. "Avery?"

"The next one in his alien romance series," the guy said as if he wasn't dropping gems on the ground. I was greedy for any I could snatch up.

Myles opened and shut his mouth.

Now the odd hours, the way he worked, made a lot more sense. As did the extensive book collection on his shelves. One of the shelves featured books exclusively by Orion Sampson, who I'd Googled. He wrote alien romance and erotica and had a rabid fan following.

"You're an author," I said, my gaze landing on Myles. "Not a journalist?"

"That's the lie I tell my parents." Myles ducked his head.

I slapped my hand to my chest. "And I got fed the same lie?"

"I just never corrected the assumption." Myles cringed as one of his friends burst out laughing.

"Do you guys have space here?" Chloe asked. "I need to grill my best friend's new roommate."

"Please, sit," the closest guy said. "I'm Graeme."

"Jeremy," the other guy said and shifted back behind his laptop, the clack-clack-clack of his typing continuing.

"We don't have to bother you if you guys are in the middle of writing," I said.

"No, no, please." Graeme grinned. "I'm all sorts of curious what it's like living with Myles."

"Well, I thought he kept really odd hours for a journalist, but a lot more is making sense." I glanced at Myles. "Does this mean I can read your books?"

He lifted his hands to his face and hid behind them. "Oh god."

Well, now my curiosity cranked up. Amusement curled my lips as excitement filtered in. "Just how filthy are these books?"

"Ohhh, I need this in my life," Chloe said. "Are they kinky aliens? Please tell me they're kinky."

"Definitely kinky." Graeme waggled his brows.

My pulse sped up. I'd already had plenty of imaginings as to what Myles was like in the bedroom, but would these books offer a window into the reality? I was sorely tempted to read them just to peer past the curtain.

"I'm burning all the ones on my shelf," he muttered, the sound muffled behind his hands.

"I'd worry about setting the whole place aflame there," I said. "Too much of Granny's old furniture that'd make for tempting kindling."

"I should be worried you've got my place scoped out for arson." Myles lowered his hands. His cheeks were a ruddy color that sent a little thrill through me. I loved how easily he blushed.

"It's a problem she has," Chloe said. "Such a little firebug."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "I've never actually set anything on fire apart from the sheets."

"Oh my god." Chloe rolled her eyes. "You realize that's cheesy as fuck, right?"

"Yeah, but she's pretty enough she can get away with it," Graeme said.

Myles didn't chime in, but his scorching look said plenty. I chewed on my lower lip, tempted to sit a little straighter so my tits stood out more. Not like I needed much effort to draw his attention, and hell, it was heady. I could pull looks at the club, but something about Myles's focus slid under my skin. The club hookups were all flash in the pan, but he created a steady fire that threatened to burn me from the inside out.

"Don't fluff her ego." Chloe flicked me in the arm. "She doesn't need it."

"I do, in fact, because my most traitorous of best friends is leaving me." I shot her a glare, my skin still a little prickly when I thought about the change.

"Where are you moving to?" Graeme asked.

"San Francisco. Back where I'm from." Chloe scratched her nape. I knew she felt torn about the move, so I probably shouldn't give her as much shit as I had been.

I hadn't missed the fact of how quiet Myles was in public, which was so different from how he acted at home. When it was just the two of us, he responded as fast as I did, the conversation flowing, but witnessing his silence here, how he observed and stepped back, made me realize how natural our connection was. Fucking rare.

I nudged his foot under the table. He sat straighter and tilted his head to the side, and I grinned, nudging him again. He snorted and knocked at my foot.

My chest warmed at the contact, at how he made me feel seen in such simple ways. Being with him had become an addiction, and I wasn't ready to quit.

"So, what are you working on now, Mr. Author?" I arched a brow.

Myles flushed again, and I couldn't help but lick my lips.

"Ah, something filthy?" I teased, loving the way he reacted.

"Something with alien dicks," Graeme said. "Based on your current research."

"Thanks for volunteering all of this information." Myles cast Graeme a dirty look. Affection softened his gaze though, and it was clear Myles had let him in when he didn't let many.

"I don't think the ladies are offended by a bit of alien dick." Graeme gestured at us.

"Not in the slightest." I slid closer to Myles, trying to get a peek at his laptop.

He half closed it. "Nuh-uh. You're not coming over here and snooping." Sitting so close sent a thrill through me, and I inhaled the delicious scent of him mingling with diner coffee.

"I, for one, would love to know what kind of alien dicks are getting wielded in this story." Chloe lifted her phone. "Oh, and I bought your entire first series."

"Oh no." Myles rested his forehead on the tabletop, wrapping his arms overhead to hide. "How did you even find me?"

"You'll share with me, right?" I fluttered my lashes.

Chloe's lips quirked. "Oh fuck yeah. Book club?"

"This is my worst nightmare," Myles mumbled.

"We'll keep the book club up, even when you move, okay?" I said, offering an olive branch to Chloe. Myles was busy muttering something in tongues now, clearly despairing over people reading his romance novels. A showboat, he was not, and I kind of liked it. I understood my bullshit enough to admit I was an attention whore because of the way my family made me feel invisible. Myles seemed to be the polar opposite.

"How about a book club with any other book than mine?" He lifted his head. "Heard Sun Tzu's Art of War is a peppy new delight."

"Mmm, but this is punishment for lying to me about what you did all this time." Teasing Myles was so damn fun. He cast a salty look in my direction, but the crankiness was good natured. As much as he didn't seek out attention, he clearly didn't hate this.

Henry paraded toward us, a pep in his step. I loved how he sometimes exploded into song during his shifts, and Chloe and I had gone to several of his drag shows at Rogue Red Theater.

"What are you two doing over here?" he asked.

"Breaking up routine," I said. "Interrupting the writers. You know, general anarchy."

"You do that enough with your gender," Chloe teased.

"I mean, gender anarchy is the end goal." I leaned back in the booth.

"Amen, sister." Henry lifted an imaginary glass. "Now, what can I get for you two? I have the rest of you handled."

"Yeah, you do," Jeremy said with a wink and a surprising amount of charisma. Henry blew him a kiss back.

"Coffees for both of us," I said. "And pancakes for me."

"BLT for me," Chloe said. We ordered the same favorites whenever we came, so I didn't need to glance at the menu.

The moment Henry left, I returned my attention to Myles. "So, about this scene," I teased. "This sexy, sexy scene."

"You, Avery Miller, are a menace," he said in a stern tone. A shiver rolled down my spine. Fuck yes. His gorgeous blues glinted with amusement, and damn, I couldn't stop staring.

"A cute menace, though, right?" Why did I fish for compliments from him? No idea, but I couldn't help myself.

His gaze darkened, and he licked his lower lip, which looked perfectly biteable. "Yeah. Yeah, you are."

Oh, that was why. My whole body incinerated from the intent stare, the low tone.

Fuck, I was in too deep.