“You keep this picture in your glove compartment?”
“I’ve missed you, Flynn,” he says breathlessly, and my heart skips a beat. “Do you remember that day?” he asks.
“My brother got the flu and couldn’t come to your party,” I answer.
“I wanted to kiss you so bad that night,” he confesses and turns to look at me, since we are stopped at a red light. My brows furrow as I ask myself if I heard him correctly.
“Funny, that isn’t how I remember that night,” I answer. My cheeks are tinged a healthy red, I’m sure. After everyone left that night, I stayed behind to help him clean up. His eyes had been raking over my body in my bikini all night. I’d thought I read his signals right. We were sixteen years old. Old enough to kiss, yet I knew he would never make the first move, so I did. I kissed him. He froze and didn’t kiss me back, then he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
“I had a vision of your brother watching the pool from his bedroom window, or your parents keeping an eye on us, and I chickened out. I wanted that kiss from you for so long. When you gave it to me, I didn’t know what to do. Your brother would have beat me to a pulp, and your parents would have hated me, too. They trusted me with you because I was supposed to be like another brother to you. I was the only guy allowed in your room who wasn’t a blood relative.”
It’s true. My dad was a little overprotective.
This seems to be a common theme with Myles. Always worrying what Oli will think and my parents, too. “I get it. You were scared of ruining your friendship with my brother and not scared of what rejecting me would mean.” I don’t mean for my voice to crack as I remember that night. I also remember the humiliation of his rejection.
He rakes his fingers of one hand through his hair. So typical. He doesn’t know what to say.
We finally pull into the Walgreens parking lot, and I get out. Myles does, too. I don’t know why, but I assumed he would wait for me in the car. I grab a shopping cart and walk up the aisles.
“It’s why you stayed away,” he mumbles. I take the shampoo I need off the shelf and turn to look at him. “The first year we were gone, you always came with your parents to London when they visited. At least I got to see you every couple of months. You stopped coming…” His voice trails off. He isn’t asking me a question. He knows.
“Yes,” I admit. “My ego was hurt by your rejection. When I spoke to my brother, he told me about all the girls chasing the two of you.”
Myles winces. “They may have chased, but I wasn’t with any of them. After you pressed your lips to mine, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted you so bad. I always have.” He gives me a penetrating stare, and my heart skips a beat.
I stop pushing the cart. I forget where I am. Looking at him causes a tsunami of good and bad memories to build up inside me. Where the hell is that Ben and Jerry’s?
I continue to push the cart and he trails behind me. I grab my conditioner and hair mousse. One aisle over, I pick up face cream, body wash, and body lotion. Before I’m done, I take two pints of Ben and Jerry’s out of a freezer and head to the cashier.
“I know what Oli and my family meant to you. I just never knew where I stood with you. And when my life came crashing down, you weren’t there. I needed you.”
He stumbles back a little, and his hand comes up to his heart. “I thought I made my feelings clear to you the night of the draft party.”
“You did, and then you were gone. Before we developed feelings for each other, you were my best friend, my person. When I needed you most, you disappeared from my life. That made me question everything.”
His forehead creases. “You’re the one who wanted me to stay away,” he says, and he’s right. I can’t argue that. After my parents died, I was a wreck. I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally, and that hasn’t changed much where he’s concerned.
“Seeing you makes me sad.” I frown. I want to be honest, but I know my words will sting.
“That’s why I stayed away, but it’s been seven long years. Can’t we get past it?” he asks. His blue eyes beg me, and my fragile heart clenches.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head to relieve some of the tension building up inside me. His question replays in my mind. Can I get past it? Lord knows I want to.
Myles went from being my person to not being in my life at all. He had shitty parents. They were selfish people who went on vacation whenever he would come home on break. They made it out to London to see him about once a year. Outside of me, Oli, and my parents, Myles didn’t have a family to love and support him. I get that he needed my family. What I don’t get is why he just walked away after my parents died.
It’s a completely irrational thought, but it doesn’t change how I feel. Seeing him reminds me of what I lost. Him not trying to see me hurt on a whole different level. It doesn’t make sense, but when it comes to Myles, I am not in a normal headspace. When he’s near, I feel turned on and sad all in one breath. It’s confusing.
“After the pool party, the night… You know.” He’s back to talking about the picture of us in the car. My cheeks flush as I remember how foolish I felt that night when he rejected my kiss. I nod, and he goes on. “You stopped talking to me completely. It was the longest you had ever been mad at me since we were six. You remember what I did to get back in your good graces?” His lips curve into a wide smile, and his blue eyes twinkle with a happiness I rarely saw in them even as a kid.
“How could I forget?” His smile is contagious. My lips spread into a wide grin.
“I skated my way into your heart,” he says, and his words make my soul ache when I remember how deeply he was entrenched there.
“You did,” I agree. When we were younger and we argued, Myles would always say we had to take our fight to the ice. Skating was where he communicated his feelings best. We had a pond in the backyard of both of our houses that would freeze over in winter. When Myles came home for Christmas that year, he knocked on our door one night holding his skates and a hockey stick. I hadn’t spoken to him since the summer. The memory of that day sits fresh in my mind.
“I told you we’re taking our tension to the ice. I made you put on your skates and grab your hockey stick.” He reminds me, and my chest warms as I remember the day with crystal clear clarity. “You were such a good player.”
I just picked up the skill from being around them so much.
“I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” I smile.
“Yeah, you scored on me twice that night, and I was trying my hardest.” He raises both brows like he’s impressed.
I laugh. “You still won the game four-two.” Afterward, Myles dropped his hockey stick on the ice and enveloped me in such a strong hug that he squeezed the air right out of my lungs. In that one embrace he showed me how much I meant to him. I knew then that I couldn’t ignore him anymore or be ashamed of my attempt to kiss him. Tears sting the back of my eyes as I remember that night.
“And I still want to kiss the air out of you, but I’m too much of a coward,” he says, looking into my eyes. My heart skips a beat. Myles the boy would have run in the other direction rather than express his feelings. Myles the man just wore his emotions on his sleeve. This small act of bravery breaks down the messy feelings I’ve been holding on to where he’s concerned and makes me question my own rationale for not wanting to see him. My broken pieces slowly mend back together, even though there are fragments I know may take a lifetime to heal.
“You are very confusing.” I shake my head. “Last night you said you wanted to be friends.”
“Last night that kiss had my head spinning. I was terrified of you pushing me away. I’m willing to take anything you have to give, even friendship.” His lips turn down.
My heart beats erratically.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Your bill is seventy-three dollars and five cents,” the cashier cuts in. Her voice startles me and pulls me from drowning in the depths of his blue eyes.
I use my credit card to p
ay, and Myles takes the shopping bags.
Back in the car, I turn to him and say, “Thanks for admitting that back there. I know that wasn’t easy for you.” He gives me a gracious look.
“I’m sorry for mauling you last night.” He leans in, giving me a hug and holding me close. Having his arms wrapped around me like this makes me question everything because I associate his scent with safety, friendship, and good times. He releases me.
I open my mouth to say something.
“Shut it. Please,” he says teasingly, then presses a finger to my lips for a brief moment and cocks his brow. I snap my mouth shut. He’s right. I need to let his words simmer. He turns the car on and starts home.
“You just picked up a lot of stuff. Is it because your things are still at the asshole’s place?”
Gah! I wonder how much my brother told him about my breakup with Matt. Oli still hasn’t gotten the memo that Myles doesn’t need to know every detail of my life.
“Um, yes,” I finally answer.
“I’m going to his place with you later to get your stuff,” he says.
“What?” His words stun me and cause my nerves to bubble up.
“After the game. I’ll pick you up. Oli said you’ve been living out of a small suitcase. You shouldn’t have to do that.”
I want to wring my brother’s neck. Damn Oliver.
“Thanks, but you’ll be finished late. I just want to eat my Ben and Jerry’s and get to bed early tonight,” I answer, even though the idea of Myles showing up at Matt’s door makes me chuckle. Matt’s a huge hockey fan.
“Eat your Ben and Jerry’s, relax, and I’ll pick you up around midnight. We’ll show up at the douchebag’s door and grab everything,” he says, and it reminds me of the time we were kids and we broke into an abandoned house in our neighborhood with Oli and some other guys.
There were rumors the house was haunted, but there wasn’t much that scared us. The police showed up, and Myles and I escaped through a broken window. We ran another two miles to a school playground. Oli and the other guys had run off in a different direction. One of our friends got caught.
Myles and I spent the rest of the night swinging on the swings in the playground, talking and flirting. If I remember correctly, we almost kissed that night, too. Myles and I seem to have a lot of almosts.
“Okay.” I nod.
He doesn’t hide his excitement. “Okay?” he asks, as if he thinks I’m playing with him.
“Yeah, I’d love to see the look on Matt’s face when you come with me.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Myles jeers.
I laugh and sit back in my seat, looking out the window. This night is about to get interesting.
Chapter Twelve
Flynn
Someone is nudging my shoulder. Shake. Shake. “Flynn.” Again. “Flynn.”
“Leave her alone. Let her sleep.” My brother’s voice pulls me further from sleep. “I can just send a company to pack her things.”
“And let the asshole who screwed with her get off scot-free?” Myles sounds incredulous. “Come on, Oli, we can’t do that. The asshole hurt Tink.” Myles arguing with my brother reminds me of old times. My two bodyguards. Problem is I never needed their protection. I always got by on my own.
“I’m going to sleep. We have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to be at the bus on time,” my brother answers. I know he isn’t up for the shenanigans that Myles has planned, anyway.
“Fine. You have a good night. I’m taking Tink to get even.” Myles voices his displeasure with my brother.
“Tink.” He whispers so close to my ear that his warm breath brushes my neck and his fresh scent tickles my nose.
I open one eye.
“Good, you’re awake. Let’s go.” He extends his hand. He looks pumped up. Probably post-game adrenaline. I sit up slowly, not feeling the same rush. Myles picks the book I was reading up from my lap. It’s a romance novel with a shirtless dude on the front cover. He cocks his left brow. “Hmmm.” He turns the cover to face me.
I get up from the couch. “What? It’s a romantic story. You can learn a lot from these books.”
I head to the fridge and pour myself a large glass of water. Myles stands waiting expectantly. He’s wearing a dark blue thermal shirt. The color accentuates the hue of his eyes. I don’t want to want him, but I do. My mind is all over the place.
“We heading out?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I look down at what I’m wearing. Black yoga pants and a long-sleeve pink Henley don’t exactly scream sexy. My hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of my head. “I should go change.” I’m going to see my ex who cheated on me. I need to look good.
“You look perfect. Don’t change.”
He could have said I look pretty or beautiful, but he chose “perfect.” Matt was always trying to get me to change, from the way I loaded the dishwasher to the way I researched cases.
I smile, and we head out to the parking garage. Operation Ambush Matt the Douchebag is on.
…
“We can’t just show up at the door. I should text him first,” I say to Myles, who has suggested we do exactly that. It is half past twelve midnight. Matt and Maddy the slutty receptionist are probably getting it on. I cringe.
“You have a key. You’re on the lease. I say you do exactly that.” I hesitate, and Myles grabs the key from me.
“You are so infantile.” I try grabbing the key back from him, but he holds it up in the air. I don’t even come close to reaching it. He twists so his back is facing me and slides the key in the lock and begins to turn it. My stomach dips as I get cold feet.
“Dammit. Myles.” I try to stop him by grabbing his hand and wrapping my arm around his waist to pry him off the door. Even though I’m tall, I’m a lightweight. He’s thick and muscular like a wall of brick. There’s no way I can get him to budge.
The door flies open, and I lose my balance, falling in front of Myles. There are lights on in the apartment, and I lift my head to see them making out on the couch. I want to hurl. I’m clearly a glutton for punishment. Myles strolls into the apartment with a friendly smile and looks down at me on the floor. I must look like road kill.
“Sorry, baby. Give me your hand.” His tone drips sugar as he extends his hand to help me up. Huh? Baby? What? I hear shuffling behind me, followed by some expletives from Matt.
“Flynn! What the hell are you…” he begins.
I extend my hand to Myles, only he doesn’t take it. Instead, he reaches down and lifts me off the floor from under my shoulders. When I’m upright, our bodies are flush together. I take a big gulp as his penetrating gaze holds me in place. Myles twirls me to his side and tucks me under his shoulder. I feel like I’m on Dancing with the Stars.
“Sorry to barge in, folks,” Myles says. I try not to notice Matt has a boner. Gross. “My Tink here is missing a lot of her stuff. We just need to pack up her things and we’ll be on our way.”
My ex is in a pair of basketball shorts and a worn white T-shirt, adjusting himself. I want to laugh, but I just smile. Maddy is running her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the rather matted-looking mop on her head. She’s wearing a pair of dark gray lounge pants and a black tank top, sans bra. Smudged black mascara and eyeliner make her look like a crazy prom queen.
“Flynn, uh…oh…I’m sorry, sure of course… Go grab your things,” she stutters, since Matt stands quiet with a confused look on his face.
“I’m sorry, what? Tink?” he asks Myles, still discombobulated.
“Matt.” Maddy elbows him in the side. “Flynn wants her things.”
“Ow.” He flinches and gives her a stink-eye then looks back to us. “Yes, of course.”
“Great.” Myles flashes his megawatt smile. “Flynn, lead the way.” He extends a hand for me to go ahead.
“Hey,” Matt calls out. “You’re Myles Sanders,” he says, just catching on. In the background, Maddy mumbles something about him being hotter in person.
“
Yes.” Myles nods but doesn’t reach out to shake their hands. Can’t blame him—who knows where those were only moments ago. They have a stupefied look on their faces. It’s too funny. “Sorry,” Myles says, “if you don’t mind, I need to go help my girl.”
Maddy murmurs to herself, His girl.
Take that, slutty receptionist…
I’m about to enter the room I once shared with Matt when he screams out, “Actually, Flynn we’ve moved your stuff to the guest room so Maddy could move her things in.” He has the grace to sound regretful.
My gaze cuts daggers when it lands on Matt. I turn around and head into the guest room just as Myles gives my ass a hard smack. I yelp.
“Aw. Come on, pumpkin, you love it when I smack your fine ass,” he says loud enough for them to hear in the next room. I turn and give Myles a dirty look.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper to him once we are in the guest room.
“Making your ex jealous. Did you see his girlfriend checking me out? He’s got him a great woman there.” He laughs.
This should be the worst situation ever, but it isn’t. It reminds me of all the fun we had together as kids.
“Inflated ego much?” I ask, then I turn to pack my things.
“Wait, baby. One more kiss. I just can’t help myself,” Myles says loudly. He’s enjoying this a little too much, and something tells me that he’s also taking advantage of the opportunity to touch me without me socking him one. I roll my eyes. Only he doesn’t stop there. He begins groaning as he pretends we are kissing. He’s even got his arms wrapped around his chest hugging himself.
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