He clearly doesn’t know what personal space means. Heat swirls between my legs, and I fantasize about him pushing me onto my back and kissing the hell out of me. His breath is hot against my face. His strong body is so close I want to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me. Only, his behavior doesn’t make sense. I shove him off me, and he pulls back. A look of shock crosses his features.
Yes, Mr. Hot Hockey Player, that is what rejection looks like.
“Stop this, please,” I plead, my tone filled with anger—which is really a cover for how turned on I am. I realize I’ve raised my voice, so I lower it. A sad laugh escapes me. “I saw pics of you this past week with girls hanging on both sides of you,” I say, knowing I’m admitting to stalking him, but right now I’m so mad and riled up I couldn’t care less. “He shoots, I score,” I say even louder, hoping my brother is still in the shower. “Does that sound familiar?”
His eyes turn wide. “Flynn, I didn’t sleep with those girls. They’re puck bunnies. They hang all over us. The highlight of their evening is a photo op with me. I haven’t slept with anyone since Oli told me you were moving to town.”
I hiss. His words feel like a slap on one hand and a warm caress on the other. The last time I saw Myles seven years ago, he admitted he had feelings for me. We kissed. I was eighteen years old. I never saw him again. He’s messing with my head, and I can’t allow it. I need air. I need to get out of here. I can’t be near him.
“Please leave.” I pull away and wrap my arms around myself. He doesn’t leave, so I grab the remote control from the coffee table and turn the TV on.
“Look at me,” he says quietly. I’m so overwhelmed by his mixed signals my adrenaline spikes. I need to flee. I need to save my heart.
“This is not how a friend behaves. What’s wrong with you?” Myles waits like he’s expecting me to change my mind about him. I can’t. I find a sitcom on TV, only I can’t focus on anything the actors are saying. He sits beside me and eats his sandwich. When he’s done, he stands up.
“You’re going to have to realize I was a boy back then. I had fears, Flynn. Fears that I want to share with you. Now, I’m a man. I’m fearless because the only thing I have to lose is you, and I’ve lost you once already.” I hold my breath as his words penetrate. “Don’t expect me to give up so easily. You’ve seen firsthand how determined I can be.” His eyes gleam. I want to melt into the couch.
“But you never even texted me when you were gone. It was radio silence.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want you to think I was pushy. If you had texted me, I would have texted back.”
Well, he had me there.
“I’m playing to win. Don’t you forget that.” He points his finger at me then leaves.
I sigh and grab one of the throw pillows on the couch, hugging it tight. My mind is so messed up right now, pulling me from the pain of the past into a present with high stakes for my shattered heart. The loss of control in my life makes me feel jittery. I don’t even get to finish the half hour sitcom because Oli saunters out of his room in a hooded sweatshirt that says “Blackhawks” and a worn-in pair of jeans. He also has his ice skates hanging off his shoulder.
“Do you need to go in for a practice?” I ask, a little confused.
“Nah, we’re going skating. Saw you put your gear in the closet up front. Figured it would be fun to go over to the McCormick rink. It’s really nice there at night.”
“Haven’t been on those skates since I was fifteen.”
“Doesn’t matter. Besides, skating is like riding a bike—you never forget how.”
“There’s that, and there’s the fact I used to be a fearless tomboy. Now, I don’t want to crack a nail.”
Oli shakes his head at me and laughs. “Go get your skates.”
I dress for the cool weather, and we head out. It feels good to be around Oli. He’s been the one constant in my life. It would also help if my twin intuition wasn’t nagging at me, telling me there is more to this outing than meets the eye.
Chapter Sixteen
Myles
I can’t get my head on straight. I promised her baby steps when we went to Willis Tower, and I’m acting like an animal after its prey. She has that effect on me. I want to pace myself and get to know her, but who am I kidding? Being around her reminds me of how shallow my life has become, and I’m sick of it all. I want someone real. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I want Flynn. I’ve crushed on the girl since puberty. Seeing her drives that point home.
When we were on the road, I picked my phone up countless times, wanting to text or talk, but I stopped myself. It’s hard to move forward with the past still unresolved.
I’m about to go to sleep when I get a text from Oli.
Oli: Can you meet me at McCormick?
Me: I’m tired. Calling it a night.
I place my cell on my side table and settle into bed. The phone rings, and Oli’s name lights up the screen. We’ve been on the road all day, traveling to get home. What the hell does he want to do at McCormick place now? I don’t want to pick up, but I do. Even though I wonder what kind of emergency this is.
“Yeah.” My tone is less than friendly when I answer the call.
“I need you to get your ass down here. This is one of the times I need you to do something without questioning my motives. I’m fucking tired, too,” he says and, well, shit.
“Okay.” It’s the only possible answer for my best friend and basically the only family I’ve got.
As I get dressed, I wonder what the hell is going on with Oli.
Chapter Seventeen
Flynn
“Okay, ready?” Oli turns back to look at me. The outside rink is busy, full of families, couples, and small children skating and smiling. It reminds me a little of the pond that was just beyond our fence back home. It’s late fall in Chicago, and a cool, crisp night as my brother holds his hand out to me to help me on the ice.
“My legs are shaking, Oli. It’s been such a long time. As soon as my skates touch the ice, I’m going to fall on my ass.”
My brother stands there with his hand extended to me. “Just take my hand. I’ve got you. You won’t fall.” He’s already standing in the entrance to the rink. White puffs of air leave his mouth as he speaks, and I take a step on the rink. My skate makes contact with the slippery ice. “Good! Now the next foot.”
I do as he says. It’s liberating to feel the ice beneath my feet again, but I also hesitate since it’s been so long. I’m scared of falling, which is funny because when I was a kid I had no fear. I would skate my guts out. I hold both of Oli’s hands as I skate forward, and he skates backward. He shows off his fancy footwork by swiveling his hips and twisting his legs while I focus on standing upright.
“You’re doing really good.” His smile is wide, and so is mine.
“It feels good to be out here,” I admit.
“See, I told you.” He smiles as people skate by us briskly. “I’m letting go of one of your hands,” he warns, and I nod.
“I don’t have time to break any bones now. I need to focus on work,” I say as I find myself moving both feet smoothly over the ice while holding my brother’s hand.
“Nah, you got this.” He releases my hand then turns and begins to skate forward. Slowly, the ice becomes familiar. I move a little faster with each push of my foot.
Oli’s phone buzzes, and he looks down, his gaze trained on his phone as he reads a message. He begins to type back. He could probably ice skate in his sleep. We circle the rink, and he puts his phone away. Pretty Christmas lights brighten the trees around the rink and old-style streetlamps provide enough light for the night skaters to see.
“Anything important?” I ask.
He waves me off. “Let’s race,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Now that I’m reacquainted with the ice I say, “You’re on.” He takes off, flying across the ice like the professional athlete he is. A part of me wants to experience that adrenaline rush I used
to feel when we were younger as our skates took us swiftly across the ice. I pick up speed, and it’s liberating as the cool wind brushes my cheeks. I push harder and skate faster and my eyes tear from the cold night, but my smile is wide.
“Huh, you didn’t think I could catch up to you, did you.” I place my hands on my waist as I skate by my brother.
“I’m impressed,”
“Thanks,” I wheeze. We begin to slow down.
“Admit that you enjoyed that.” Oli smiles.
My own smile turns into full on laughter. “I really did. That felt amazing.” We skate to the entrance. “It’s a good workout, too.”
Oli is looking down at his phone again. He didn’t hear me.
“You want to grab some hot chocolate?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Give me a sec,” he says, and I continue to skate past him. I round the ice again and look for my brother. I watch him walking off the ice, and I’m a little confused, but I can’t scream to him because I am about half the rink away. I skate over to the entrance where he just exited, and look right and left. Hmm. That’s odd. I don’t see him. I walk over to a bench and unlace my skates.
“You were amazing out there.” The deep baritone is so familiar my heart skips a beat.
Myles stands in front of me with a sheepish grin on his face. There’s a tuque on his head, and his jacket is zipped up to his nose.
Damn you, Oli. He set me up.
“I didn’t know you’d be here. Your brother set this up. Told me to get my ass out here.” His lips curve, and a hint of guilt mars his features.
“You want to grab a hot chocolate or something?” he asks, turning to look over his shoulder, where there is a café.
“Um.”
“Come on it’s just a drink,” he says, and his voice is low and a little scratchy. He sounds tired.
After the way we left things earlier, I was happy to have space from him. I didn’t think there was anything left to say.
“I really didn’t know why he asked me here.” He gives me a puppy-dog look.
“Okay.” I sigh. With my boots back on, I walk beside him.
“You want to take a walk before we head in?” he asks, looking at me.
“Sure.” We walk quietly for a while.
“This is nice,” he says, breaking the silence. I nod. He looks down to me like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “Something tells me Oli is trying to fix more than a friendship here,” he says, and his words don’t surprise me because I had the same thoughts. “Do you think he knows…”
I take a deep breath. “Knows what, Myles?” I don’t mean for my irritation to come through, but him not being able to admit his feelings is an old sore that hasn’t healed over.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I basically told you back at the house that I want to win you over. Was that not straightforward enough?”
“You’re being vague. You were hot and cold. You make my head spin. I don’t know what to expect from you.”
“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?” He smiles down at me, his blue eyes warm. I shake my head. “Fair enough. Okay. I think Oli knows there is more than friendship between us. I don’t know if he thinks it’s a new development or not, but I definitely think he brought me here tonight because he can see how I feel about you.” He exhales, showing it took a lot of effort to get those words out.
I release a breath—one I may have been holding since I was a teenager, at least figuratively. What I wouldn’t have given to hear Myles speak those words before our lives got shot to hell.
“I don’t know what to say,” I answer honestly. My feelings are a mixed bunch of mush I can’t interpret right now.
“You don’t need to say anything. I’ve tried to stay away. I’ve tried to give you space. Being this close to you is damn hard. A part of me wants to run in the other direction, and a part of me wants to kiss the hell out of you and never stop. I just wish you would let me in, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I keep opening up to you, but you don’t say a word.”
A cool tear runs down my cheek. It’s just so hard to be with him. I don’t know how to get over the past. I don’t know how to look at him and not care deeply. My head and my heart are sending mixed signals.
“You know what? Forget all this for now,” he says, clearly reading my distress. “We’re out here, and it’s a beautiful night. Let’s just take it all in.”
He’s right. The place is beautifully lit with festive lights. The night is cool but not freezing.
“Leave the hard stuff for another time. I’ve had a rough week, and you look pretty tired.” His smile is bright, and the playful gleam in his eyes is contagious.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree and grin. It isn’t forced.
“I saw you racing Oli. You still got it,” he says.
“Nah! Not really. I haven’t skated in a decade.”
“I don’t think it’s something you forget,” he says, looking into my eyes, and I feel like there is a double meaning to his words. I gulp.
The ache in my chest lifts, and all I’m left with is a serenity I haven’t felt in a long time.
He takes a step toward me, and a charge of electricity runs through my body. Myles wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into him. His stare heats my whole body. I don’t know why my hand, which is still in a mitten, comes up to caress his face, other than I need to touch him.
“Do you remember the time we went tobogganing?” he asks out of nowhere. His voice is raspy and filled with longing.
“There were many times. You may want to specify,” I answer, a hint of my previous laughter still lacing my tone.
“It was in ninth grade, and I was home for Christmas break,” he says and cuts me such a hot glare that I know exactly what he’s talking about. We had gone out that day on our own, since Oli was home sick. I begin to see a pattern I’m only noticing now. It was at times that my brother wasn’t around that Myles and I got into these heated situations. Kind of like now.
“We went down a hill on the toboggan, and I thought it would be fun to give us a little spin along the way, and we ended up wiping out, and I landed on top of you,” Myles says, his breath ragged and his eyes trained on mine. My lips ache to touch his, and judging by his searing gaze, I know he wants it, too.
I nod and swallow.
“I wanted to kiss the hell out of you that day. I want to kiss the hell out of you now.” His face moves closer to mine.
I nod, and before I can remember where we are and what we are doing, his lips press to mine. His warm skin makes my body want to combust. He wraps his arms around my back, and I wrap my arms around his head, and our lips mesh together, our mouths open as our tongues tease and taste. I want him to touch me all over, kiss me, love me, but the voices that were background noise only moments ago come to the forefront of my mind, and I hear them more closely now. We aren’t alone. Our kiss slows, and he presses his forehead to mine as we take a few breaths to gather ourselves. To tuck the unbridled heat away. This, too, is becoming a familiar motion. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. The gesture is warm as he holds me close. He releases me and looks down at me.
“That day, when I didn’t kiss you, I told you that you couldn’t be a lost boy anymore. You had to be Tinker Bell.” He smiles.
“That was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me,” I answer, a little breathless. But the sarcasm in my tone dominates.
“I should get points for that, right?” He chuckles. “You became my Tink that day.” He takes my hand. I don’t answer him, but in my head, I agree with what he’s said. We reach the entrance to the coffee shop. “You want to get that drink?”
I take a breath. I don’t know why I feel like I am holding my breath around him.
“Yes,” I answer, and he guides us toward the restaurant.
We are seated at a table for two off to the side. The lights in the restaurant provide a romantic glow. We order hot
chocolate. I take the warm mug in my hands and watch the little marshmallows float on top. Myles is quiet. One look at him tells me he’s gone inside his head.
“In some ways this feels like déjà vu,” I say a little hesitantly. He’s been making an effort with me. Trying to break me out of my shell. Now it’s him who’s withdrawn into his shell.
“We spent a lot of time together growing up. We’re bound to have lots of these moments,” he says.
“What are you thinking now?” I ask. For the last seven years I’ve had a picture in my mind of how things would be if I ever saw him again. Only now it looks nothing how I pictured things would be. Seeing him reminds me of what I lost. I figured the feelings I once had for him were gone but they aren’t. My feelings are very real and overwhelming.
“I want you so bad it physically hurts, but inside here”—he touches his chest where his heart is—“I don’t think I’d be any better at caring for other people than my father, and that scares me to death. I can’t date you because I want all in with you. It makes me crazy.”
“Yeah, I mean I get it. My head is spinning right now, too.” It’s a relief that I can be open with Myles. Despite everything we still seem comfortable enough to tell each other what we’re thinking. I bite my lip. Well, not everything. Some things I can’t admit out loud to anyone.
He smiles sadly looking at our interlaced hands. “Being close to you tonight at the apartment made me crazy. I told you I’d fight for you. Then reality sets in. I remember why we can’t be together. I feel like an ass for making promises I won’t keep. We’ve been a part for seven years. There’s no room for games between us.”
I watch this broken, kind-hearted man sitting in front of me and I can’t argue with his words because I can’t share a future with him. As much as I love spending time with him and kissing him relieves an ache deep inside me there is also a pain I feel like a knife twisting in my chest.
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