“Mm,” he murmurs into my skin.
“Miles, we need to stop. Like, now,” I say again as the intensity builds in my abdomen and between my legs. I push myself away from him, holding onto his shoulders at arms length. His lips red and parted and his eyes wide. I don’t need a mirror to see that mine are too. I could easily dive back into a messy kiss right now – because holy shit, he looks so good – but I force myself not to.
“Yeah…Yeah. You’re right,” he replies, dragging his hands down his face. He waits a beat before continuing as I watch him. “There are some shorts in my drawer for you to change into if you want and a clean shirt.”
I get out of the bed on wobbly legs and grab a clean shirt from his drawer and some shorts. I go into the bathroom to change. I pull off my sports bra which has gotten sweaty and slip on his black shirt and shorts.
I hear Miles say something through the door and I freeze.
"What?" I ask.
"We both wanted that, right?" he asks and my stomach drops.
"Yeah," I reply after a pause. "But that shouldn't happen again. Not when we're alone."
I hear Miles move through the door and he sighs. "Yeah. Rule number three and all that."
"Exactly," I say, remembering the reason we made the list in the first place. "Rule number three." He doesn't say anything else for a while so I add, "It was a moment of weakness."
He clears his throat. "Of course."
When I look in the mirror, my face is red, and my pupils look huge. Thank God, I had some sort of self-control. I knew we would get carried away, but I can’t. I can’t afford to mess this up now. Not so close to the showcase.
We don’t say anything when I slide into the bed next to him, turning away from him so I don’t do anything I regret. His breathing slows and for a second, I think he’s gone to sleep.
“I’m not a violent person, Wren,” he whispers into the silence. I don't have to think about my response.
“I know.”
“One of the guys were saying some really fucked up stuff about you and Carter and I just lost it. I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
My heart sinks through my ribs as I turn over to face him. Knowing guys at NU, I know better than to ask what they said about me. Especially since they're hockey players. His eyelids are heavy as he avoids my eyes.
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong,” I reassure him. The way his mood has shifted so intensely shocks me. I’ve never seen him so torn up. So upset at himself.
“If Coach finds out, I won’t be able to play but with what they were saying, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I’ll ruin everything,” he explains, his voice cracking. I brush my hand over his cheek, and he melts into it, closing his eyes.
“That’s not going to happen, Miles,” I whisper.
“It might.”
I brush his hair out of his face gently until he falls asleep. Even after his breathing has settled and he’s deep in sleep, I keep my hand there. Deep into the night and I stay there, watching him.
I can’t ruin this for him by acting on impulses because that’s all they are. They are just parts of this that we have to ignore. He needs to play again more than I need to skate. He deserves it. He needs this.
CHAPTER 20
MILES
Iwake up to an empty bed, a throbbing headache and a hard on. I had a feeling she’d be gone when I woke up but a part of me was hoping that she’d be downstairs making breakfast or something. She kept me warm last night. Safe. Anchored. The only thing left of her is my jersey folded neatly at the bottom of my bed. I turn to my bedside table and there’s a note in her handwriting, a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water.
Take these.
I have to go to practice.
XO
Wren
