cheeks. I had no control. Miles made me blush. He
had since day one. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He smiled, and not just a pleasant grin. It was
a full-fledged smile that spread across the length of his face.
Like everything else on Miles’ body, his smile was flawless, with
perfectly straight, white teeth.
And then I felt them.
I’d never experienced them before. So many
girls, including Leah, told me about them, but I thought they were
blowing steam out my ass, too caught up inside their fairytale
lives and making something appear that wasn’t really there. They
didn’t exist—not to me, at least. Not until today. But they were real and fluttering inside me right then.
I had butterflies.
My heart. My stomach. My entire body was
consumed by tiny little butterflies flapping their wings, taken
away by Miles Blackwell.
I smiled back. It was uncontrollable. I was
filled with so much emotion that the only thing I could do without
screaming it to the world was smile. Miles and I stood there, our
eyes molded together, beaming at one another.
“I could be wrong, but, uh… shouldn’t you guys
get going?” Maddy interrupted, breaking our stare.
“Oh, uh…yes. Yes, we should be going,” Miles
agreed, adjusting his jacket and fixing his bowtie like he was
trying to put himself back together. He was just as discombobulated
as I was…weak, exposed, and vulnerable.
Miles held out his arm, escorting me to the
door. I wrapped my arm with his, letting him lead.
“Have fun!” Maddy called exuberantly, waving us
down the hall.
I grinned over my shoulder. “Thanks! You too,” I
told her, remembering she had a date tonight, too.
As soon as we stepped outside, we were greeted
by a sleek, black stretch limousine with the driver holding open
the door outside of it. I felt important; classy. Although I was
doing everything in my power to stand tall and unaffected, my
anxiety was through the roof as we approached. I wasn’t that girl
from Nevada anymore or even the crazed out sorority girl from
Cortland. No, I was a professional, high class, charity event
attendee aside one of the wealthiest, most prosperous men in New
York City. I was going to be stared at, judged, and expected to
blend in among the high powers of Manhattan. I could do it. I
dreamt of being that person, but the knot in my stomach told me
otherwise. There was no denying the sinking feeling in my stomach.
What the hell was I thinking? Could I really pull this off? Could I
really stand among this level of living?
I guess I was going to find out.
Soon.
The ride there was short and quiet with no
words exchanged. Miles rubbed my leg methodically while I stared at
the city lights outside the window, incapable of speaking. My
nerves were too out of control for small talk, but Miles didn’t
seem to mind. For some reason, I got the distinct feeling that he
was nervous, too. He’d always been calm, cool, and collected, but
not right then; that wasn’t the man sitting next to me. This Miles
was tense, quiet, and seemed to be breathing irregularly. It wasn’t
crazily obvious, but enough for me to take notice. I smiled. It
didn’t worry me, instead it was amusing; a nice change. Miles was human after all. Things worried him and made him anxious
just like the rest of us commoners. It was comforting to know that
even executives felt the pressure and rise of fame at times.
It wasn’t until our limo came to a stop that my
eyes practically jumped from their sockets. We were parked outside
of the iconic Gotham Hall, the same place where the BMG Grammy
after party was held and where Sports Illustrated launched their
2003 swimsuit issue. I was about to walk the same entrance hundreds
of celebrities had before. I wished I could call Leah or even pull
my cell phone from my clutch to take pictures, but I knew that
would be too much—nobody needed to see the girl from Nevada. I had
to keep my cool, be calm and poised. Superior. Mesh with the
had since day one. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He smiled, and not just a pleasant grin. It was
a full-fledged smile that spread across the length of his face.
Like everything else on Miles’ body, his smile was flawless, with
perfectly straight, white teeth.
And then I felt them.
I’d never experienced them before. So many
girls, including Leah, told me about them, but I thought they were
blowing steam out my ass, too caught up inside their fairytale
lives and making something appear that wasn’t really there. They
didn’t exist—not to me, at least. Not until today. But they were real and fluttering inside me right then.
I had butterflies.
My heart. My stomach. My entire body was
consumed by tiny little butterflies flapping their wings, taken
away by Miles Blackwell.
I smiled back. It was uncontrollable. I was
filled with so much emotion that the only thing I could do without
screaming it to the world was smile. Miles and I stood there, our
eyes molded together, beaming at one another.
“I could be wrong, but, uh… shouldn’t you guys
get going?” Maddy interrupted, breaking our stare.
“Oh, uh…yes. Yes, we should be going,” Miles
agreed, adjusting his jacket and fixing his bowtie like he was
trying to put himself back together. He was just as discombobulated
as I was…weak, exposed, and vulnerable.
Miles held out his arm, escorting me to the
door. I wrapped my arm with his, letting him lead.
“Have fun!” Maddy called exuberantly, waving us
down the hall.
I grinned over my shoulder. “Thanks! You too,” I
told her, remembering she had a date tonight, too.
As soon as we stepped outside, we were greeted
by a sleek, black stretch limousine with the driver holding open
the door outside of it. I felt important; classy. Although I was
doing everything in my power to stand tall and unaffected, my
anxiety was through the roof as we approached. I wasn’t that girl
from Nevada anymore or even the crazed out sorority girl from
Cortland. No, I was a professional, high class, charity event
attendee aside one of the wealthiest, most prosperous men in New
York City. I was going to be stared at, judged, and expected to
blend in among the high powers of Manhattan. I could do it. I
dreamt of being that person, but the knot in my stomach told me
otherwise. There was no denying the sinking feeling in my stomach.
What the hell was I thinking? Could I really pull this off? Could I
really stand among this level of living?
I guess I was going to find out.
Soon.
The ride there was short and quiet with no
words exchanged. Miles rubbed my leg methodically while I stared at
the city lights outside the window, incapable of speaking. My
nerves were too out of control for small talk, but Miles didn’t
seem to mind. For some reason, I got the distinct feeling that he
was nervous, too. He’d always been calm, cool, and collected, but
not right then; that wasn’t the man sitting next to me. This Miles
was tense, quiet, and seemed to be breathing irregularly. It wasn’t
crazily obvious, but enough for me to take notice. I smiled. It
didn’t worry me, instead it was amusing; a nice change. Miles was human after all. Things worried him and made him anxious
just like the rest of us commoners. It was comforting to know that
even executives felt the pressure and rise of fame at times.
It wasn’t until our limo came to a stop that my
eyes practically jumped from their sockets. We were parked outside
of the iconic Gotham Hall, the same place where the BMG Grammy
after party was held and where Sports Illustrated launched their
2003 swimsuit issue. I was about to walk the same entrance hundreds
of celebrities had before. I wished I could call Leah or even pull
my cell phone from my clutch to take pictures, but I knew that
would be too much—nobody needed to see the girl from Nevada. I had
to keep my cool, be calm and poised. Superior. Mesh with the
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