The Wingman by A. Poland

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was a Saturday, and Ben and Nathan were sitting in the living room, shrouded in a tension that had arrived the night everything went down. Ben gave him a concerned look, one of many over the last while, that made Nathan finally crack and announce he was going to take a walk. Sitting there and staring out the window to see if Lorcan left the house was not a productive way to spend anyone’s day, and Nathan knew Ben was hours away from holding an intervention.

But deep in his gut, Nathan knew if he were to keep walking, it wouldn’t do anything to shut his thoughts up. Sending off a text to Miles to see if he wanted to grab a coffee was an absentminded decision that Nathan couldn’t bring himself to regret.

Nathan walked for the best part of two hours until he found the Starbucks partway between Miles’s apartment and his house. Not his choice in coffee shops, but the day was hot, and he wasn’t going to say no to a cold drink around about now. Lucky to nab a free seat by the window, Nathan placed a tea he’d gotten for Miles on the table in front of him and then sipped at an overly sugary iced coffee he hoped would inject some joy back into his soul. Unfortunately, it did no such thing. So he sat there, wallowing in self-pity, slurping at a coffee he wasn’t really sure he liked but had paid too much for not to finish, and looking out the window.

Which meant he was completely zoned out and especially jumpy when a young woman sat in the seat across from him.

“Nathan, right?” she asked as Nathan put his cup down with a huff and wiped at the coffee he’d just spilled down the front of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking up at who had scared the crap out of him. “Sorry, do I know you?”

The woman in front of him couldn’t have been that much older than him. She had big brown eyes and pearl-white teeth. Her long braids tumbled over one shoulder, her head was shaved on the right-hand side, and a row of gold piercings cuffed her ear. She looked distinctly familiar, but Nathan couldn’t place her.

“Not directly,” she informed him, which only deepened Nathan’s frown. “I’m Simone.”

Simone. Where had Nathan heard that name before?

“The artist!” he cried out, and they both blinked a little at his outburst. Simone, the artist, Miles’s sister. The one who had given him the paintings for the loft.

“The artist,” she confirmed with a nod. “And you’re the Nathan that our Miles has been pining over?”

Nathan frowned again, busying himself with drying up the rest of the coffee on his shirt if only to avoid her piercing gaze. Did all of the Mitchell sisters have such intense eyes? “I wouldn’t say pining.”

“I would,” Simone asserted, hands clasped in front of her. “I know my brother. And I know that you stomped on his heart.”

Nathan blinked. “I didn’t stomp on anything of Miles’s.”

Not including the time he’d accidentally stood on Miles’s foot when he tried to teach Nathan how to slow dance on one of their outings, but Nathan wasn’t going to tell her that.

“You kissed him, told someone that it was nothing, and then didn’t bring it up again.”

Nathan opened his mouth to rebut her point, but he couldn’t. Shit. He had done that. The realization hit him like a speeding train, and not just any regular train. That really fast train in Shanghai that broke records. That train.

Sure, they’d texted nonstop. But Nathan would be hard-pressed to think of a conversation they’d had that acknowledged the kiss, past that teasing remark about a date. But that wasn’t what he meant; of course he was still interested. Surely Miles knew that.

But based on the look Simone leveled him with, Nathan was becoming increasingly less confident in that belief.

“I know you’ve met Jordie,” she continued, giving Nathan a moment to deal with the internal crisis he was having over his apparent lack of communication skills. Ben would be ashamed. “But I don’t know if she made it clear to you that the entire Mitchell family is very protective of Miles.”

“Are you going to threaten me?” Nathan asked, dazed. He lifted his head. “Did you track me down to threaten me? How did you do that? I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed.”

Simone lifted a single finger, elegantly, and pointed toward the counter where Miles stood in a line––leaning forward slightly to order drinks, feet shuffling adorably as he spoke.

“Oh,” Nathan said, feeling a little ridiculous. “I didn’t see you come in.”

Or know that Simone was coming, too, but he didn’t mention it.

“I don’t think I need to threaten you,” Simone then told him, offering Nathan a small smile. “You’ve got your shit going on. Everyone does. We just don’t want Miles to get caught up in the middle of it. He’s already been through so much.”

Nathan frowned, his cup of coffee back in his hands, if only for him to have something to hold onto. Jordie had briefly mentioned Miles being in shitty relationships before, and Nathan knew there was something up with his birth parents. But Miles had never offered any details on either of those things.

“I don’t…actually know about any of that stuff,” Nathan said slowly because he wanted to know. He wanted to know why they were so protective of him, why Miles was the way he was. Quiet, unsure of himself. Skittish. Even if he was one of the most impressive people Nathan had ever met.

But at the same time, Nathan was afraid of the answer.

“That’s Miles’s call to tell you,” Simone replied simply, and Nathan could respect that. “But I will tell you that his last boyfriend moved states after what we did to him.”

Nathan gulped, wide-eyed.

“You seem like a good guy,” Simone continued, breezing over the fact that the Mitchell sisters had somehow scared someone into moving. “And Jordie thinks you would be good for Miles if you ever get your head out of your ass.” Simone laughed, holding up her hands in defense at Nathan’s affronted expression. “Her words, not mine.”

Simone leaned forward, patting Nathan lightly on the cheek with a pleasant grin. “Good talk. I’m glad I tagged along. When Miles said that he was going to see you, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity.”

“Hey,” Miles said, appearing by Simone’s side with two reusable cups in his hands. Flicking his eyes to Nathan, he offered an almost apologetic look. “Simone wanted to introduce herself.”

“After all I’ve heard about Nathan, I felt like it was my sisterly duty to do so,” she said with a pleasant grin, nodding to one of the cups. “Is this one mine? Great. Listen, I have some things to get to. I’ll leave you boys to it.”

“It was nice to meet you!” Nathan called as she departed, even if his heart was still thudding in his chest.

Slumping back in his seat with a loud exhale, Nathan wondered when his life had turned into such a telenovela.

Just as the nervous sweats started to subside, Miles slid into the seat across from him. Nathan took in the messy bun Miles had pulled his hair back into and the oversized purple shirt that gave a generous glimpse of his chest.

No, Nathan. Not the time to ogle.

“I got you one of those herbal teas,” Nathan said, shifting a little awkwardly in his seat. “Mint…eucalyptus or something? I didn’t realize you could eat eucalyptus. That’s the thing… Is it wombats? Do wombats eat eucalyptus?

“Koalas,” Miles corrected him gently. There was a soft smile on Miles’s face, and Nathan allowed himself to feel settled by that. This was Miles he was talking to; Nathan was convinced he didn’t have an angry bone in his body. Hell, he’d probably down the two drinks now in his possession just because he was that nice.

“Koalas, that’s the bitch.”

That earned a bigger grin from Miles, and Nathan felt encouraged by it.

“I’m sorry,” he started, because apologizing was always a good way to begin making amends.

“You don’t have to—” Miles was quick to say, but Nathan wasn’t hearing it.

“No, I do. I really do. I spent the last week freaking out about upsetting Lorcan, and I didn’t even think about how all of this would make you feel.” Nathan chose not to mention the little chat he’d had with Simone because he was under the distinct impression Miles wasn’t aware of just how much the sisters stuck up for him. Plus, Nathan didn’t want there to be any shred of doubt regarding the validity of his apology. He was deadly serious about this.

“Seriously, Nathan, it’s fine,” Miles assured him, and Nathan couldn’t help but feel he was being let off easy. Miles paused for a moment before speaking again. “Did you sort out things with Lorcan?”

“Nope.” There was no point in mincing words. Lorcan hadn’t responded, and for all Nathan knew, the twins were stuffing their faces with the baked goods he’d left in their care every morning.

“I’m sorry.” Miles’s apology sounded even more sincere than Nathan’s sincere apology had been, and that didn’t sit well with Nathan.

“Oh my god, you have zero reason to apologize. You weren’t into Lorcan; there’s nothing wrong with that.” Nathan was incredulous that Miles thought any of this was on him.

“I came between the two of you,” Miles said, elbows on knees and hands clasped together.

“You showed me that we’re apparently easy to get between,” Nathan countered before pulling a face. “Don’t read into that sexually, please.”

Miles bit down on his lip to stop himself from laughing, and Nathan really shouldn’t have been distracted by that at a time like this. At a time when he was supposed to be serious.

“I just mean…” What did Nathan mean? “Lorcan has liked a lot of people. If one of them liking me instead pisses him off so much…” Nathan shrugged, unsure how to finish that sentence. “Lorcan was always a bit of a drama queen anyway.”

Nathan was downplaying how bad he thought the situation was, but there was truth to his words.

“I got a little bit of that impression,” Miles admitted, fiddling with the bands around his wrists. “So…what do you want to do?”

Nathan tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Instantly, Miles looked uncomfortable. “I mean…we kissed. Is that… It’s okay if that was a one-off thing.”

Nathan blinked, thinking he’d been clear. But apparently being clear to Miles meant actually saying the fact out loud. Or, in this case, showing Miles exactly what Nathan’s thoughts were on the matter. So he leaned over the small coffee table between them to press a kiss to his lips—only to hear a clatter as he knocked both the tea and coffee over.

“Are you kidding me?” Nathan muttered to himself, grabbing napkins to mop up the worst of the mess. “And here I was trying to be romantic.”

“It was still kind of romantic,” Miles offered, trying to be helpful as he picked up the mugs, salvaging a few precious drops.

“Right, because cleaning up coffee is romantic.” Even so, Nathan had to grin.

In the middle of all of this mess, Miles was still interested. Nathan hadn’t driven him away.

But the same couldn’t be said for Lorcan.