Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“You look on edge,” Shawn said mildly, coming up to stand next to him. He was looking at Miles with curiosity and something else in his gaze. “You can go to your room if you want. We’ll tell Alexander and Chris that you’re not feeling fell.”
It was kind of hilarious how carefully Shawn was avoiding saying Ian’s name, as though if he didn’t speak of the devil, he wouldn’t appear.
But Shawn was giving him a way out.
Miles almost wanted to take it. If he stayed in his room, he wouldn’t be caught between Ian and the Rutledges. There wouldn’t be any awkwardness. But as tempting as the option was, Miles couldn’t take it, wasn’t strong enough to take it. If he didn’t see Ian tonight, it was unlikely he would ever see him again, and that was… The mere thought made his stomach hurt.
Miles shook his head, unable to look Shawn in the eye.
Thankfully, at that moment, there was the sound of voices, and Alexander Sheldon walked in, followed closely by an attractive brunet, who was presumably his fiancé, Christian.
Introductions followed. Miles smiled and nodded and mumbled something affirmative at hopefully appropriate times, but his heart wasn’t in it. He felt like someone else had taken over his body while his heart pounded and his ears strained, zeroed in on the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
He was here.
It took forty-three seconds before the Rutledges’ butler was showing Ian into the room.
Immediately, the huge room seemed to become smaller, as if the man who had just entered it skewed its center of gravity toward himself. Or maybe it was just him. But Miles didn’t think so. The conversation between the Rutledges and their friends quieted down at once.
Ian looked mouth-wateringly good, as usual. Black suit, black shirt, and the air of confidence and superiority that seemed to put every man in the room on edge. Ian was one of those men who commanded attention simply by walking into a room.
Feeling Shawn’s gaze on him, Miles hastily looked away.
He determinedly didn’t look Ian’s way as Ian exchanged rather cold pleasantries with the Rutledges. Ian’s voice really sounded cold and sharp when he talked to them. Derek’s voice wasn’t exactly friendly either as he introduced Ian to his friends.
“And you already know Miles,” Derek finished, his black eyes watching Ian carefully.
Cold blue eyes met Derek’s, steady and calm.
“I do,” Ian said, his face inscrutable.
Finally, he looked straight at Miles, and those eyes seemed to suck Miles right into them.
Miles swayed on his feet and had to grab the windowsill behind him to stop himself from moving toward Ian. He wanted to. God help him, he wanted to. The Rutledges, for all their friendliness, felt nowhere near as close to him as Ian did. It felt like he was on the wrong side of the clear divide in the room.
Miles swallowed and gave Ian a faint nod that hopefully looked neutral instead of making it obvious that he couldn’t speak, his mouth dry.
Ian just stared at him for a moment before looking away.
“The dinner is ready,” Shawn said, breaking the tense silence. “Why don’t we all move into the dining room?”
There were affirmative murmurs, but Miles could barely hear them. He’d never been so acutely aware of another person in his life. Everyone else but Ian seemed blurry, Ian’s tall body the only thing in focus. It felt as if the whole room was slanted in Ian’s direction. It was unbearable.
The dinner passed in a haze. Ian was seated as far from him as possible, which could be a coincidence, of course, but Miles had a sneaking suspicion that it was Shawn’s doing.
Shawn shouldn’t have bothered, Miles thought moodily. It wasn’t as though Ian was even looking at him. He hadn’t looked at Miles once since the dinner started. Not that he missed Ian’s creepy staring or anything. He didn’t. Obviously.
It just felt… wrong. To be in the same room with Ian and not even worthy of a glance.
Ian was holding a conversation about politics, of all things, with Derek, Shawn, and Alexander, though he didn’t bother to pretend to be friendly or nice. Although Miles had never thought of Ian as nice, it threw him off how different—how much colder—this version of Ian was. He seemed to regard Shawn with faint contempt and derision, which wasn’t surprising if he was an older brother of the girl who was publicly jilted by Derek in favor of Shawn. To his credit, Shawn just smiled wider at Ian’s thinly veiled insults while Derek’s jaw became tighter and tighter as the evening dragged on. At this rate, Ian was going to get punched before the dinner was over.
Stop fixating on him, dammit, Miles told himself, glaring at his salad. He isn’t even looking at you. This is pathetic.