Miles’s voice filled the intercom again. “You coming down, or should I come up?” This time, there was a little less of his happy-go-lucky attitude, and a bit more concern. “Uh—” My heart was racing. Why hadn’t I asked Ophelia to chaperone us? Right. She had a date. And a life. “I’m coming,” I squeaked. Shit. I punched the button again. “Not like that,” I blurted out. “Not coming like coming coming. I’m just … I’m heading down.” Miles laughed, and my stomach dropped. “See you in a minute,” he said.
