Miles needs to learn to juggle work and having a girlfriend who can be very, VERY distracting. It complicates his life but he's happy for everything Cecily brings him, which so far has been nothing but unfiltered happiness.
PART V - A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT
Sunday comes and with it a stack of work for Miles.
He knows he must get a head start on his proposal and to do that he needs an idea.
He awakens at his usual time somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00 a.m. and drags himself to his drafting desk, not bothering to dress.
It's Sunday, a day to be lazy.
But not too lazy.
He finally gets inspired by a concept and carefully outlines a few rough draft sketches, smiling to himself.
He takes a break at noon to eat some leftover mac n cheese, intending to go back to the drawing board after but he hears his phone ring. As per usual, he screens the call, seeing it's Cecily and answers immediately.
"Hey!" he greets her, pleasantly surprised that she is calling since he just saw her yesterday. He's usually the one calling her.
"Hi, so I was thinking. Can I come over tonight? I think I'm ready to start my seven-day stay trial at Miles Piper's house."
"Oh! You want to stay this week?" Miles is surprised, he didn't think she would pick the timeframe so quickly. After she has suggested the trial stay, he assumed it would be in a few weeks.
He certainly could use the delay, considering his impending project, but he doesn't want to make her wait.
He doesn't want to wait either.
"Yeah, is it okay? I don't want to intrude."
"It's no intrusion, please come on over after any time after dinner," he quickly says, mentally running through his head a list of everything he needs to do to prepare for her stay.
"Great. I'll see you tonight!"
He hangs up and makes a small swear, there is not enough time in the day and he's already wasted half sleeping and working!
First things first–cleaning the kitchen. Dusting up crumbs, wiping down counters, arranging his fridge, scrubbing the sink.
Has to stop to put in his contacts.
And also make sure the guest bathroom is absolutely spotless as it would be the one she would be using.
Miles gets dressed, and then obtains a guest bed–something he had put off but intended to do. He finds a frame at a box furniture store he can put together himself.
He has to also buy a bedspread and pillows for it too.
It would be completely economical for Cecily to share his bed for the duration of her stay but if for some reason, she needs space, he needs to have a space for her to have.
He has all but neglected his yard since moving in. He was too embarrassed to admit to his girlfriend, who was such a lover of nature, that he had the opposite of a green thumb.
His whole family could barely keep anything alive that grew from the ground.
Miles busts out a pair of hedge clippers the owners had left behind and tries to trim the overgrown hedges that line his driveway.
This is the worst chore of the day, standing outside, in the sun, and sweating.
The worst.
The flower beds are also overgrown but he never minded the unmanicured look of them; they seemed pretty in a wild sort of way, reminding him of Cecily.
He considers the flowers and decides to leave them as they are.
At 9:30 p.m. Miles hears the doorbell ring. He is lounging on his sofa to settle himself after a full day on his feet cleaning everything that could be cleaned and running errands, such as picking up food and ingredients to impress Cecily with more of his cooking.
He scrambles up and eagerly pulls open his front door to find Cecily, her dog, and a large suitcase on his porch.
"Hi there," she greets him with a fond smile.
Miles screams inside his head. After all that he had forgotten her dog was also staying with him. He hoped she brought dog food else Miles would be feeding Dexter table scraps.
"How was your day?" she asks as she drags her suitcase in behind her.
"It was...busy. I had to make sure everything was put together. I know you've been over before but you staying a week is totally different than one night."
"I hope I'm not causing you any trouble. I just thought..." she begins but Dexter goes about sniffing everything he can get his nose on, paying attention to some potted plants in particular.
"Oh no, Philodendron bipennifoliu is poisonous to dogs!" Cecily cries calling Dexter back to her.
"What?" Miles is confused. It sounds like a foreign tongue, and he really wanted to hear about what she had been thinking of before.
"The big red flower in your pot there. The Red Emeralds."
"Oh, that's fake. All my plants are fake."
She levels a bemused gaze at him, "What?"
"I can't seem to keep plants alive but I like the way they look. The fake ones I don't have to take care of and they never die. I think it's great."
She doesn't look like she agrees with that perspective, and doesn't comment any further on it.
He can't help but feel as if he has offended her. It was probably the equivalent of her telling him that mobile games are just as good as ones made for computers.
He leads her up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.
"Wow! You really filled this out since the last I saw," she clasps her hands together as she appraises the new bed, "I love the blanket pattern!"
Of course, because it's of flowers.
"I picked it out just for you," he admits with a broad smile.
"The dresser is nice. Where did you get those arts of cacti?"
"I found them at a craft store when I was running errands," Miles says, "Oh that reminds me. If you see any cactus in my house, those ARE real so don't touch them. I barely have to water them so they stay alive."
Cecily pulls her suitcase over near the dresser and takes a closer look at the flowers. She squints and first then smells them.
"These are real!"
"Yeah, I picked them for you. From my unwieldy flower patch–they'll probably keep alive through your stay here."
She turns to him with a changed expression, "Thank you. I love them."
He never understood why people loved flowers, at least the picked ones. They were pretty but had such a short life span. It was kind of morbid to give someone a bouquet of impending death.
Dexter wanders in and sniffs everything. Boxes, the mirror, the bed. Collecting all the smells his snout can.
Cecily sits on the edge of the bed, testing its bounciness while seeming to have a conversation with her dog that ends in "You will be fed at breakfast."
Which, gives Miles relief as it hints that she has brought her own dog food.
She turns an eye on Miles and pats the bed, "Care to join me?"
He does care. He cares a lot.
She kicks off her shoes and leans back with a sly look in her eyes, inviting Miles for more than just sitting next to her.
He accepts that invitation with enthusiasm but it melts a bit, even though she looks beautiful and he shouldn't want to stop this.
"You know, the point of this bed was it was your own place to sleep," Miles says as he withdraws his lips before they get too far. She's here for seven days, they can take their time on the romance front since they won't be very far apart.
She just smiles up at him, "Sleep here with me, then."
The room is dark, hours later and Cecily is sleeping in contentment but every nerve in Miles is buzzing and refusing to let him rest. After turning and tossing he finally sits up and before he leaves, he turns and studies her.
He could get used to this.
He wants to reach out and touch her, to make sure this isn't all some dream.
He remembers what it was like to wake up in the dead of night to find them gone.
They had what they wanted from him so why stay any longer? Those women who had called him over and used his desperation to be loved against him.
Miles wants nothing more than to just fall asleep next to her but there's work to be done.
The next phase is writing up a presentation. Miles finds his glasses and gets to work.
Cecily wonders why there's a cold spot next to her when it was warm before. Her eyes flutter open and for a moment she forgets where she is. Then she sees the flowers atop the dresser and remembers.
She remembers Miles's arms encasing her as she drifted off to sleep after a bout of fun, but there's no sign of him now.
Her heart sinks–where is he?
Dexter is present, having found a corner of the bed to lay on and curl up. She checks the time, reading it as 5 a.m.–a bit early to take Dexter out for a walk.
She throws on a new pair of underwear and a tank top just to wander around the house halfway decent. She intends to find Miles's whereabouts.
"Don't worry you will get your breakfast soon," she assures her dog who is making slight whimpering noises in his sleep.
She gives him a little pat on his shoulder too, for good measure.
First, she checks Miles's bedroom. He seemed concerned he was intruding on her space so it wouldn't surprise her if he had removed himself and gone back to his own room but...
No sign of him there either.
She quietly descends the stairs, looks around the living room, and then curiously follows a hallway she had never been down before. It leads to an office.
She lets out a gasp at what she sees.
She has found Miles, but he is slumped over at a desk, his head hitting the keyboard.
How anyone can fall asleep like that with their back, is beyond her.
What was he even doing down here?
"Miles?" she approaches and crouches next to him, trying to jostle him awake gently by running her fingers over his arm.
He is so out of it. She can't let him stay sleeping like this though.
She flips on the lamp's light and says in a sing-song voice, "Awaaaaaaken my sleeping prince!"
He groans, coming into consciousness and his eyes open slightly before snapping shut at the light.
She maneuvers behind him, "What were you doing? I hope you saved that document before you keyboard-smashed your head into it and left a bunch of random letters."
He blinks a few times, seeming to try and understand her words.
He ends up sitting up and craning his neck back to look up at her, "Sorry, I had work to do. Good morning."
She pulls herself around the chair and into his lap which surprises him, "Good morning!"
He laughs, but his voice is gravelly with the exhaustion that comes with waking up too early after not getting a good night's rest, "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than you, I'd imagine. Though not the best. I felt sad when I woke up and you weren't there," she replies and he grimaces at that but before he can apologize she says, "I hope you got your work done."
He gives her a quick peck on the lips, "Enough of it at least. I'm sorry I left you alone."
As much as he loves where she is, his back is killing him and he says as much; she agrees to free him.
A salvo of cracks sound up his spine as he stands, and he makes a pained sound. He's not as young as he used to be and is not built for all-nighters like he was in college.
The pain is soothed away by a pair of hands, running up his back and the pressure of tapotement administered to his shoulders. He can't help but let out a small groan of relief before yawning, "That feels great, thank you."
"Get yourself some coffee and I'll make us breakfast," Cecily demands. She sure is chipper for being up so early. Miles is not a morning person and never has been. His mother had to yell at him upwards of ten times a weekday to wake up so he could make it in time for the school bus when he was younger.
He is mildly surprised that she wants to make breakfast. He had planned to do most of the cooking during her stay but then again, he never told her that plan. If she wanted to cook, he'd happily let her. He was intrigued, as no woman he'd been interested in ever offered before.
Cecily rummages through the refrigerator and cabinets, occasionally stopping to ask where something is, while Miles brews coffee.
She gathers everything she needs and Miles recognizes from her collection of items, that she aims to make pancakes.
He watches her work as he sips his coffee. It feels weird to be awake before dawn.
Pancakes are one of the few things Cecily knows how to make. She only has ever made them for her family. She doesn't like to make big batches of food for herself because she isn't keen on leftovers but usually tosses any extras into a compost bin and watches with interest how the soil takes it in.
She hears the sink go off behind her as she's stirring the batter and turns to see what Miles is doing.
He's just washing his coffee cup but she stirs slower and slower, watching the way his back muscles move as he does it. It stirs something in her.
She has historically been attracted to men with ripped traps and lats but somehow Miles's lithe build appeals to her even greater. He's flexible and well-proportioned.
Cecily ceases to stir altogether as she thinks about his body and it isn't until he turns around and asks her if she needs help that she realizes it.
Light from the sunrise slowly drifts in as Miles digs out a pan for her to begin cooking her pancakes.
They chatter about a cooking video game they've both played, discuss plans for dinner, and inform the other about what work they have to do that day.
"I'm going to test that soil sample I took from the farm," she says, she is actually really excited about that. She wants clarity on it.
"You're really cute when you get passionate about soil," Miles steps behind her and slides his arm around her waist.
"And you're really cute when you talk about ideas for video games," she admits. A piece of her unruly hair falls into her face as she concentrates on flipping the pancake, and he swipes it back and then kisses her cheek appreciatively.
"I need to take a shower."
"Then go do it. By the time you're done this will be ready," she suggests and he wilts only a little because he was hoping that his comment would be taken as an invitation to join him after they ate.
But her attention is heavily focused on not burning the pancakes, and that's probably a good thing.
He withdraws and figures it's best to get ready for work anyway. When she's near, all he wants to do is engage with her.
Since he hadn't showered the day before, the hot water is very welcome on his face. It gives him more clarity washing away whatever oxytocin high he's been riding since last night when she first arrived.
Cecily is addicting.
Her warm smile and collected demeanor seem to balance out his feelings of stress and insecurity. He feels like everything will be all right when she's near him. He could get used to that.
A thought occurs to him.
Is he in love?
Actually, truly, in love with this woman?
It's been less than a month of dating.
Can love be so quickly given and earned?
He had wanted her to move in because he liked her very much, and it was beneficial for her situation as well.
Maybe, because he was getting older he wanted that stability of a partnership. He'd lived his life up until now as a wayward bachelor and it was kind of nice having someone care about him and consider him.
He often looked at his siblings and found himself growing jealous that they had found such partnerships when he had tried and failed so many times.
Miles dresses for work and returns to the dining room just as Cecily is setting out her pancakes. He takes a seat and she smiles at him, "I hope you like simple maple syrup and butter, I didn't do anything fancy."
"They look perfect."
He cuts in and takes a bite and raises his brows, "This is really good!"
"I should hope so," she grins and takes a bite of her own, "I haven't made pancakes in...what? Four years or something."
"Why such a long time?" he wonders.
"It's impossible to make small batches and I'm not a fan of leftovers."
"You could totally make small batches."
"How?"
"Keep the batter in a covered bowl and only pour the amount you need every morning for a week," he explains.
Her eyes widen before she takes on an embarrassed smile, "I don't know why I never thought of that before. Here I was thinking I had to cook them all first."
"Isn't nice to have someone who can offer a different perspective?" he teases.
"You, sir, are a genius. I'll take this lesson home with me."
He was kind of hoping she would eventually consider his place home.
"Well, I hope you'll come back for new lessons if you like it here," he says.
It hasn't even been a day yet. He mentally berates himself for saying that, he doesn't want to come off desperate or needy. He'd only just gotten her to agree to stay for a week. He was rushing.
She just hums in consideration and finishes eating her pancakes, and when done she swipes up his empty plate as well.
It is hard to take his eyes off her. She's dressed in nothing but a loose-fitted tank top and cute, hot pink, underoo-styled panties that would drive any man wild. Is this what he has to look forward to the rest of the week? Her prancing around half-naked and cooking meals for him? If so he would gladly wake up early for it.
It is something he could definitely get used to.
After she washes their plates, Cecily finds herself hoisted onto the kitchen counter and kissed fervently.
"What was that for?" she asks, just a bit dazed.
"A thank you, for breakfast," Miles replies earnestly and kisses her again.
She withdraws from his kiss with the same sly look in her eye as the night before, "How much time until you have to go to work?"
He checks the clock and returns the expression, "Enough."
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