“So when are you gonna tell Gwen how you feel?”
Miles almost choked on his water.
He and Ham were having lunch in Spider HQ, deep below Aunt May’s backyard. Noir, Peni, Peter B. and Gwen were all in their universes for a variety of reasons, one of the rare afternoons they hadn’t all spent together on Earth-1610 since Kingpin’s collider blew.
So today, it was just Miles and Ham having lunch and talking.
Miles always enjoyed talking to Ham. The pig understood and supported passions better than any other member of the Spider-Gang (other than Gwen, of course). Miles could talk to him about art and drawing and just be generally vulnerable with him so easily.
Every time they spoke, Miles was reminded of how much he appreciated the pig.
Well, almost every time.
“When am I going to what?” Miles gagged out, his nose and cheeks damp from the water sprayed up by his cough.
“You know, when are you going to tell Gwen that you like her?”
“Of course I like Gwen, she’s my best friend.”
“Kid, I know you know what I meant.”
Had Miles’ palms always been this sweaty? He knew his forehead hadn’t been. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and nervously laughed.
“I, uh, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ham raised an eyebrow, which somehow managed to ascend above the top of his head.
“You want me to open your sketchbook, or would you like to do it?”
Miles clutched his backpack, picturing the pages he’d covered with drawings of the young blonde girl he spent all his time with.
“She’s a good muse,” Miles said with all the confidence he could muster. “Photogenic.”
“Yeah, you think she’s photogenic because you think she’s cute.”
Miles sat back in his seat and turned his head to the side, pouring every ounce of effort into looking casual. His brain desperately turned for a card to play before he settled for the one he promised he’d only use in emergencies.
“Why is it you assume guys and girls can’t just simply be close friends?” Miles said, leaning his head back like he was saying something profound. “Is that not allowed?”
Ham brought his hand to his forehead and muttered something, but all Miles heard was a dolphin call. He could have sworn an actual black box appeared over Ham’s mouth as he spoke.
“Kid, you know, I don’t just look like a cartoon. I see the world like a cartoon.”
“That sounds horrifying,” Miles said dryly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you making fun of—” Ham sighed again before mumbling to himself. “Let it go, Peter, let it go.”
“As I was saying,” the pig continued, his tone as insistent and forceful as Miles had heard. “I see the world like a cartoon. I see Peter B. wiggle his fingers a little every time we pass a donut shop, I see little onomatopoeia bubbles every time I hit someone, and most importantly to this conversation, I see your pupils turn into little red hearts every time you look at Gwen.”
Miles’ mouth ran dry. Ham stood from his seat across the table and marched across it to stand in front of him now, his eyes narrow with defiance.
“Words can lie, kiddo, but you can never hide the truth from an animator.”
Miles’ eyes darted around the room, as if he could find another lie in the shadows. But he’d been crushing on Gwen for six months now, almost to the day, and he hadn’t brought it up to anyone. Not even his mother, not even Ganke. Part of him felt a little freedom, knowing someone knew. He hung his head in defeat.
“I don’t know what to do, man.”
Ham’s eyes softened into the little crescents he gets when he’s on the verge of tears, and he moved forward to put a hand on Miles’ shoulder.
“You do what I said. You gotta tell her, kid.”
“But what if she doesn’t feel the same way, what if I make her uncomfortable, what if she hates me, what if—”
Miles sighed and dropped his head into his hands.
“I just don’t want anything to change.”
Miles raised his eyes to see Ham smiling softly at him.
“I know it’s scary, Miles, but if you feel this strongly about her, something will inevitably have to change. You can’t just pine after her forever. You’re not just telling her for her, you’re telling her for you. You can’t live like this for the rest of your life.”
Miles sat silently with his words, trying to find a retort. He couldn’t.
“I know change is scary,” the pig continued. “But staying who we are is much more terrifying.”
The watch on Ham’s wrist that let him bounce between dimensions chirped, a message from his home world, and the pig’s words were again covered by the little black bar.
“I gotta take this, kid, you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I will. Thank you, Peter.”
“Don’t mention it. Tell her, okay?”
Ham jogged over to the elevator. As it began to ascend, Miles blurted out one final question.
“Hey, wait! If you see hearts in my eyes when I look at Gwen…does she have any when she looks at me?”
Miles watched his pig colleague recoil with offense.
“That’s an invasive question, Miles. Her thought process is a very private matter.”
“But it would help me! I could know whether I should tell her or not!”
The pig straightened, almost entirely out of view now as the elevator reached the shed above, but he shouted his last wisdom before he was gone for good.
“You’re not telling her so she says yes, Miles. You’re telling her because you need her to know.”
With that, the elevator was gone, and Miles was left alone with the silent echoes of Spider HQ, his only company a half-eaten sandwich and runaway thoughts.
He always thought this room was too loud when everyone was in it. Right now, he couldn’t stand the quiet.
——————————————————————
Miles and Peni stood guard together from the rooftop of a nearby bakery, the same way they always did on Thursday nights. Miles always brought an extra serving of dinner for her, this time a heavy helping of pasteles. Miles’ mom had met Peni, Gwen and Peter B. under the ruse of people from school, and she knew Miles met them in different study groups on certain nights.
Rio always denied having favorites. She also always packed extra for Peni.
It had been a quiet night so far. The two spiderlings sat with their legs dangling over the edge, the street humming four stories below with Brooklyn nightlife. SP//dr slept a few feet behind them, curled up like a napping dog.
It’d been two days since Miles talked about Gwen with Ham. He felt like he’d been going insane since. The boredom of a slow night watch was his last straw.
“So Peni, you’re a girl, right?”
Peni turned slowly to look at him, an eyebrow arched to the sky.
“Last I checked?”
“Have you ever been asked on a date?”
Peni squinted at him.
“What are you implying, Miles?”
Miles nearly choked on his food.
“No, I meant, like—I just wanted to know if there were, like, things you wanted people to say or do when they did it, or…”
“You know I’m 13, right?”
Miles started frantically waving his hands back and forth between their faces, falling backwards away from her. The sounds made one of SP//dr’s eyes open, whirring from its slumber with an annoyed whine.
“No, I wasn’t trying to, I don’t mean you, I just,” Miles’ shoulders sagged, his chin dropping to rest on his collarbone, and he looked up at her meekly.
“I was just thinking about asking a girl out, a different girl, and I don’t want to do it wrong.”
Peni’s eyes slowly widened, and she looked like she was fighting back a smile. It still escaped to the corners of her upstretching lips. Was she laughing at him?
“Well, gee, Miles, I wonder who you’re talking about.”
“You, uh, you don’t know her. She’s from, uh, she’s from my school. Visions. We met in science—MATH. We met in math class.”
He didn’t think Peni’s eyebrows could go any higher. He knew she couldn’t smile any wider.
“What’s her name?”
“Uh, she doesn’t…have one?”
Peni stared at Miles for a second, her face about to burst in an effort to restrain her laughter.
“I mean, of course she has one, she just…you don’t know her, so I don’t see why it’s…important.”
Peni finally broke. She fell back from the roof, cackling so loud Miles was sure people could hear her from the street. SP//dr whirred its disapproval again, spinning around to face away from its owner before settling back to rest.
Peni rolled back into a sitting position, wiping tears from her eyes.
“You know what?” Miles said. “Forget it. I don’t know why I even asked, I probably won’t even do it.”
Peni’s face immediately fell, the laughs vacant from her new expression.
“No, Miles, I didn’t mean—”
The police scanner strung on Miles hip chirped, altering him to a break-in two blocks away. He yanked his mask down forcefully, his pasteles abandoned on the ledge.
Without another word, Miles rolled off the edge and into the night sky, webbing away.
The lights of the street below blurred slightly as Miles swung away, and his eyes stung and burned. He was sure it was because he was going fast.
——————————————————————
If Miles felt comfortable with Ham, he always felt safest with Noir.
The old-school Spider said some weird stuff. He always asked for a drink they didn’t really make anymore. He despised movies with sound. And he almost always preferred to be alone.
But he’d also seen Noir take bullets meant for Gwen, tackle a goon off a skyscraper because he was overwhelming Miles, and break a bank robber’s jaw for making a pretty gross comment about Peni.
The monocolored Spider was an odd dude. But the teenagers all knew that, if he was around, he’d put his life on the line to stop them from getting a bruise.
The two of them sat in May’s living room watching some old Charlie Chaplin. City Lights, if Miles remembered the title correctly. Miles and Peni were the only ones who would watch silent films with him, and Peni was at school.
As Miles watched the main character, a quirky dude in a black hat, fall head over heels for a girl whose wavy blonde hair didn’t quite reach her shoulders, he spared a glance over at the spider in black and white.
They’d never really talked about Noir’s personal life before. Miles always felt bad about that.
He also prayed Noir’s oddity might translate to a little wisdom for girls with short blonde hair. But he mostly just wanted to ask about Noir’s life. Seriously.
“So, Noir,” Miles began.
“My young friend, you’re talking over the movie, I can’t hear it.”
“…You can’t hear any of it.”
Noir grabbed the remote from the cushion, which had been carefully labeled for him. It had taken him months to learn. Noir fast-forwarded a few seconds, swore, then managed to pause the movie.
Work in progress.
“What plagues your mind, Miles?”
“Do you have a girlfriend back home?”
Noir stared at him for a moment.
“Why do you ask such questions?”
“I don’t know, I just feel like I don’t know anything about you. Your life, your world, who you are when you aren’t here—”
“My world ain’t no great shakes, kid. I don’t talk about it for a reason.”
Shit. Miles hadn’t even considered this might be an uncomfortable conversation for Noir. Here he was, asking Noir to relive trauma so he could get girl advice. Some Spider-Man he was.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I just feel bad that I never ask,” Miles sighed. His gaze dropped to his lap, his hands folded. “You can turn the movie back on if you want, you don’t have to talk about it.”
He waited for the click of the remote, but it never came. After a few seconds, he looked back and found Noir’s goggles still observing him. The tall spider’s expression was always unreadable since he kept his mask on all the time, but Miles swore he found some softness in his eyes.
“Felicia.”
Miles furrowed his brow, but the question died in his throat when he realized what Noir was saying.
“I wouldn’t characterize her as my lady, per se. I don’t think she belongs to anyone. But she’s the only person I’ve let myself open up with.”
Noir turned back to the television.
“She was also a vigilante in my universe, a woman with a secret identity. I think part of her appeal, her charm, was having someone who understood.”
Miles sat up a little, a small smile betraying his hope, and he opened his mouth to add his thoughts. Noir continued before he could.
“But I haven’t seen her in a long time. We don’t always see eye to eye about how to handle our world, what should and shouldn’t be accepted.”
Miles slunk back down into the cushions.
“So how are you going to make it work?”
Noir shrugged.
“Don’t know if it will. Love is a beautiful thing, kiddo. But it’s near impossible with our burden.”
“…oh.”
Noir turned to look back at him, his expression still blank.
“You want me to resume the film?”
Miles stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“Yeah, sorry.”
Miles and Noir sat in silence, the man in black and white captivated as the main character managed to win over the girl with short blonde hair.
Miles thought he liked the other Chaplin movies better.
——————————————————————
Miles was drawing in Spider HQ with his headphones on, ‘Sunflower’ blaring on repeat, when Gwen snuck up on him. He hadn’t even heard the elevator chime, and when she grabbed his shoulders, his heart leapt out of his chest and he fell out of his chair.
As Miles lay on his back, his headphones discarded a few inches away, Gwen collapsed to the floor next to him in a fit of giggles. Had she meant for their arms to touch? Had he been singing along out loud?
Gwen finally composed herself after a few seconds, and she rolled her head around to look at Miles.
Miles couldn’t help but think about how beautiful she looked.
It took a moment for Miles to realize he could still faintly hear his music playing from his headphones. Before Miles could snatch them up, Gwen grabbed them.
“Ooh, what are you listening to?” she asked, sliding them over one ear but leaving the ear closer to Miles uncovered.
Miles didn’t know what Gwen listened to. The different realities made comparing band names hard. But he knew she didn’t listen to his music.
“Um, it’s, uh, I just have stuff on shuffle, I don’t even really know that one…”
Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, the most incredulous look he’d ever seen.
“Uh huh.”
Okay, maybe he’d been singing along.
“Well,” Gwen said, taking the headphones off and dropping them on Miles’ chest. “The song you don’t really know is pretty good.”
Miles really hoped she couldn’t see him blush as he stopped the song.
Gwen looked back up at the ceiling.
“Hey, Peni told me you’ve been asking about girl advice?”
Oh NO.
“What? I don’t know what she’s talking about, she must have misheard me.”
“Miles, that’s not—”
“Oh wow, look at the time, I told my mom I’d be home for dinner, family dinner night, can’t stay or bring anyone, she’d kill me, see you later!”
Miles grabbed his headphones and his backpack. He was invisible before he even got off the ground.
He had his back to Gwen as he went up the elevator. He didn’t dare turn around, but he could have sworn he heard an exaggerated sigh behind him.
——————————————————————
Peter B. marched toward Miles down in Spider-HQ, and Miles immediately knew he was somehow in trouble.
Miles closed his sketchbook, hiding a half-finished drawing of Gwen at dance class. He quickly recounted his actions over the last week. He let that one teenage shoplifter off with a warning, but other than that, he felt pretty solid. Had he left May’s toilet seat up again? He was positive he hadn’t.
“Kid, we need to have a serious talk about what mentorship means,” Peter B. said.
Miles chuckled nervously.
“What are you talking about, Peter?”
Peter B. walked past the table and pointed a finger into Miles’ chest, looming over him.
“You’ve been asking for romantic advice and you haven’t brought anything up to me?”
…what?
Miles’ lack of reaction must have not satisfied the older Spider-Man, because Peter B. spun around and pointed his finger to the sky.
“You’ve been trying to find a way to ask a girl out, and I, your sage mentor, the Yoda to your Luke, have been entirely left in the dark!”
“Who’s Yoda?”
Peter B. spun on his heel, murder in his eyes.
“What did you just say?”
“I—I haven’t been asking for—I don’t have anyone…”
“Did you just ask who YODA was?”
Miles stood defiantly, planting his feet to match Peter B.’s angry stance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Peter B. dropped his hands to his hips.
“You asked Noir about his dating life!”
Noir’s mask appeared over the corner of the table.
“I apologize, my young friend. I was not aware this was confidential information.”
Miles closed his eyes and tossed his head back toward the ceiling.
Peter B. levied a finger at him again, the most accusatory point Miles had ever seen.
“And Gwen told me you asked Peni about asking a girl out. Even Peni? Does my wisdom mean nothing to you?”
Miles threw his hands up in the air.
“I was just curious! It’s nothing! I am telling you, Peter, there is no one I want to—”
A loud flush rang through HQ, and Ham walked out the bathroom door with a long strand of toilet paper attached to the bottom of one foot.
“Oh, hey, Miles, did you get around to asking Gwen out yet?” the little pig asked absentmindedly, paying no attention to the tense stances before him.
Miles felt like his eyes would pop out of his skull. Peter B.’s eye twitched twice. Noir’s face reappeared from behind the table.
“Oh,” Ham said, finally looking up. “I have the vague sense my timing was poor.”
Peter B. opened his mouth and inhaled as much air as his lungs could take, his chest puffing out. Miles ran forward and covered Peter’s mouth with his hand, shaking his head vigorously.
“Don’t, Peter, I don’t know what he’s talking about…”
Even muffled, Miles could hear Peter shout Gwen’s name. His eyes gleamed with a look Miles couldn’t quite understand.
“Peter, I’m telling you, man, I don’t know what Ham is talking about.”
Noir turned to Ham.
“I’m confused, I thought Miles and Gwen were friends.”
“We need to talk about your social skills. It’s becoming a problem.”
Miles pulled his hand away from Peter’s mouth, and the bathrobe-clad Spider-Man split into a wicked grin. Miles backed toward the elevator, keeping the three other spiders in front of him.
“Okay, I can explain this…” Miles began, but Peter B. shook his hands to wave him off.
“No, Miles, you don’t understand, this is great. You can tell her—”
Miles stopped backpedaling and held his ground now, and it was his turn to point a finger.
“Why would I do that, Peter? What have any of you said to give me any confidence about this?”
Peter B. stuck his chin forward apologetically.
“No, kid, we didn’t mean…”
“I asked Ham how she felt and he avoided the question. Noir told me love never works out for Spider-Man. Peni laughed at me.”
Ham’s eyes turned back into those familiar little crescents.
“Kid, that wasn’t what I meant…” the little pig began, but Miles built up a head of steam now.
“And I knew you’d make a big deal about this, Peter! I knew you’d try to come up with a plan or tell everyone else or stress me out about it!”
Peter B.’s eyes softened, and his shoulders sagged.
“You mean…I made you feel…I’m sorry, Miles.”
“Why can’t you guys just let me handle this!” Miles said, his voice rising to a shout. “It’s my life! I should get to decide who I tell what! And you know what? I like the way things are! I like getting to spend time with her. I like being her friend! Why does anything have to change!”
He heard a soft chime from above him, but he ignored it.
Ham took a step forward.
“Miles, if this is how you feel, you can’t do this forever…”
“Why not! I’m fine now,” Miles said. He was dimly aware his shouting and the single tear rolling down his cheek was probably not a convincing argument.
Peter B. stepped forward, his hands up in mock surrender.
“Miles, if you want, I could talk to her?”
“Why would that be better? That sounds worse!”
“No, kid, you don’t get it, she already—”
Miles’ gaze lowered, and his fists clenched at his side. The same sound chimed behind him again.
“I’m serious, NONE of you can tell Gwen.”
“Tell me what?”
Miles spun on his heel and found himself face-to-face with Gwen, who’d just descended from above. She had an eyebrow raised, all curiosity and no suspicion. Behind her, Peni’s jaw hung open. A drop of electronic sweat appeared on SP//dr’s brow.
“Uh…” Miles said. Lying had never been a strong suit of his, but his mind sounded like television static right now. He couldn’t even formulate a sentence.
“I, uh,” Miles began. Then, he turned invisible again. Rather than waiting for the elevator, he shot a web up to the ceiling and yanked himself up to the shed above.
——————————————————————
Miles’ parents hadn’t been home when he got back, both working extra hours since Miles had been home less often. He stormed through the door to his room, tears stinging his eyes as he chucked his backpack into the corner by his desk. He flopped back on his bed and yanked his headphones down over his ears. He let ‘Sunflower’ run on repeat and closed his eyes.
Miles tried to time his breathing to the rhythm of the chorus. He tried to make the world beyond his ears melt away.
For the first time ever, it didn’t work.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting with his eyes forced shut when he felt the window open.
Miles sat up and flung a web forward before he opened his eyes, the panic of being snuck up on adding to the anxiety he already felt.
He opened his eyes to see he’d missed. His web stuck to the upper pane of his window, and Gwen stood near the edge of his desk, her hands up in mock surrender.
“Cease fire,” she said, mustering a smile that almost looked a little pained.
Miles mumbled an apology and paused his music, tossing his headphones onto his nightstand.
“Were you listening to the same song?”
Miles kept his eyes closed. He felt the bed shift as she sat down on the edge of it, near his feet.
“It helps me relax.”
“I thought you didn’t really know it?”
In a better mood, Miles would have laughed. Instead, he just let his eyes open slowly and count the spots on his ceiling.
“What do you want?”
Gwen leaned her head back a little in mock offense.
“I need a reason to hang out with you now?”
Miles sighed and closed his eyes again. He was taking out his embarrassment on her, and he knew it wasn’t fair. But he also wasn’t really in the mood to apologize. So he just let the awkward air hang between them.
Gwen bit her lower lip and looked down away from him, her hands folded in her lap.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot back there. And I’m sorry everyone kind of ganged up on you. Whatever you need to tell me, do it whenever you’re ready.”
Miles winced a little and sighed again. Now he felt like apologizing.
“It wasn’t your fault. And I appreciate you checking on me. You know you never need a reason to be here.”
Gwen smiled and nudged his leg with her elbow.
“I’m going to take advantage of that, you’ll regret saying it.”
Miles exhaled slightly, the closest thing to a laugh he could muster.
“No, I won’t.”
Gwen looked back down at the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she decided to speak.
“Hey, so, remember how I brought up the Peni thing last time? You asking for girl advice?”
Great, he can’t even escape this in his own bedroom.
“I, uh, I don’t—” Miles began to sit up, but Gwen leaned over and pushed his chest quickly, sending him back toward the bed.
“No, come on, Miles, let me finish.”
Miles sighed, bracing for the end of life as he knew it.
“I was going to say, I, uh,” Gwen started to stammer. She sat on the edge of Miles’ bed and brought a hand to the back of her neck. Did she look nervous?
“I kind of need boy advice.”
Oh, this was worse. This was so much worse.
“Oh, uh,” Miles propped himself up on his elbows. He hoped his face did a decent job hiding how far his heart sank. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, there’s this boy.”
She paused for a second, as if this were self-explanatory.
“Yeah?” Miles said, leaning his head back onto his pillows. He grabbed the baseball he kept on his bedside table and began to toss it absentmindedly, hoping he could convince himself this conversation meant less than it did.
“And I really like him. Like, we’re friends, but I don’t want to just be friends with him, you know?”
Yeah, it wasn’t working.
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“Well, I’ve—I wanted to—it’s complicated.”
“Soooooo no?”
“It’s complicated! He lives…kinda far away.”
Miles caught the baseball and held it for a second, closing his eyes. He knew what he needed to tell her. What she needed to hear.
He put the ball back on his desk and propped himself up by the elbows again to look at her. Her gaze had drifted toward his desk.
“Gwen, you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. You’re funny and strong and capable, and you’re so easy to talk to and literally everyone in the group loves you. I—”
Gwen swung her eyes around to look at him, and Miles froze when they made eye contact. Neither of them moved for a second.
“I think anyone would be lucky to have someone like you feel that way about them,” he finished.
Miles let his head fall back to the pillow. He found a little black dot on his white ceiling, the largest blemish in the paint, and stared at it while he spoke again.
“So I’d just tell him how you feel. However you want. Because, if he’s smart, he’ll just be happy you feel that way.”
Miles closed his eyes. He waited for Gwen’s thanks, for the lift of his mattress, for her to say she felt better and to rush back to her universe to find whatever guy she felt so much for.
He waited for her to leave him behind. He waited to be hurt.
Gwen sat silently for so long, Miles almost thought he missed her leave. He didn’t dare open his eyes. When the springs beneath his back finally did lurch, they didn’t celebrate her absence. Instead, they groaned with displeasure as she rolled her entire body onto the bed.
She scooted forward until she was next to Miles, laying on her side. She dropped a hand down near his shoulder, resting just two fingers on his arm.
“Miles?”
He opened his eyes and tried to remember how to breathe when he saw how close her face was.
“Yeah?”
“You want to get dinner with me?”
Miles furrowed his brow and looked down toward his watch.
“How are you hungry already, it’s like 3:30–”
“Miles.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a little early to make plans—”
“You’re not hearing me.”
“I mean, I’m always happy to spend time with you so like why do you even need to ask—”
Miles hadn’t been looking at her when she leaned forward and kissed him.
It lasted only a second at the most. She pulled away so quickly, he almost thought he imagined it. But the way his lips buzzed and the slight aftertaste of watermelon Chapstick let him know it was very much real. She leaned over him now, his cheeks cupped in her hands.
“Miles, I’m asking you on a date.”
Miles stared at her, his jaw still slack. His face felt numb. His brain felt numb.
“Oh.”
Gwen’s eyes stared back at him from a few inches away. Her face hadn’t changed, she’d done well to keep herself looking calm, but he could see a trace of fear in her eyes.
“…Yeah. Oh.”
Miles couldn’t stop staring at her. He couldn’t help but feel like she’d gotten prettier even since she’d gotten there.
“This is typically the part when you say ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’”
Miles opened his mouth, but his vocal chords remained frozen. He nodded slowly, hoping it would suffice.
“Yes?” Gwen asked, a small smile creeping up on her face.
“Yes. Oh, yeah, definitely, for sure, yes. I was going to…I wanted to ask you, but I didn’t think—”
Gwen giggled and shoved his shoulder before clambering off the bed.
“You think too much. I’ve been trying to get you to ask for months.”
“I…you…MONTHS?”
Gwen laughed again, the sound echoing through Miles’ room and his heart. She climbed back through the open window and onto his fire escape, and she cast a glance back over her shoulder.
“You comin’? I have a whole night planned.”
Miles couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he grabbed his shoes and chased her down to the street below.