Not the Only One (Book 1 in the Four of Us Trilogy)

Forty-Three

Rachel

I ran my fingernail down Miles' spine as he entered his login information into the computer for our AP Euro test, and grinned when he shivered. "Good luck, baby. Maybe after the test you'll get a treat," I whispered.

"Stop distracting me, you minx," he breathed over his shoulder.

"You know you love it," I murmured, crossing my right leg over my left knee and poking his calf with my foot.

"Damn right."

"Okay," Ms. Johnson spoke up. "It's time to start the test. Good luck," she said, smiling.

I took a deep breath and began the test.

Three hours later, we exited the classroom with our shoulders slumped. "Jesus Christ," Miles gasped when we got into the hallway. "That test was brutal."

"It really was," I agreed, leaning against the wall next to the water fountain.

"How do you think you did?"

"Okay...I think I probably at least pulled a 4. You?"

"I feel okay about it...if I got a 3, it's definitely because of you," he said, kissing my cheek.

"Ah, that's not true. You worked really hard. You actually took longer than I did," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's because you literally know everything there is to know about European History," he said, bumping my hip as we walked to the office. We both had permission to sign out after the test, and we had big plans for lunch.

I considered this. "True."

"See, you're modest too," he joked, opening the office door for me and following me inside.

We signed out and made our way to the parking lot hand in hand.

"Where do you want to go for lunch?" he asked me as he put the top down on the Jeep. It was a beautiful day; not a cloud in the sky, in the mid 80s.

"I'm craving a burrito," I started.

"Diego's," we said at the same time.

We laughed. "Diego's it is," he said, hopping in the Jeep next to me and taking off, squealing the tires as we exited the parking lot.

After eating embarrassingly large burritos, we drove down Front Beach Road. I assumed Miles was taking me home, but I really didn't want to go.

"Miles, where are we going?" I asked, looking out the passenger side.

"I was going to take you home, but..." he trailed off.

"But?"

"But I don't want to," he said, laughing.

"Good. I don't want you to either," I said.

"Where do you want to go? Movies? Beach?"

"What about your house?" I asked.

He shook his head. "My dad is home."

"I know," I said carefully.

He cut his eyes toward me and saw the look on my face.

"Oh no. No no no. I am not taking you to meet my dad. Nope," he said stubbornly, shaking his head.

"Miles, please. I don't want the first time we meet him to be on prom night. And you know our parents will all end up at the beach where we take photos," I argued.

"No. No. Not today." 

"Miles. Please do this for me," I begged. "I want to get this over with."