Chapter Eleven

Flynn

After a long day at work, it feels good to slip into yoga pants and my Columbia sweatshirt. I make my way to the kitchen, hoping to snag one of Oli’s meals. I open the fridge and pull one of the black, pre-packed containers off the shelf.

“Hey.” My brother’s voice startles me. I expected him to be at the arena for his game tonight. He tilts his chin at the container. “Antonella’s chicken parmesan is the best. Go for it.”

“Thanks. I skipped lunch today. Plowed through my workload so I could just relax tonight.” I take the container and pop it in the microwave then lean on the counter while it warms up.

“So, I guess you’re not up for a game tonight?” Oli gives me one of his twisted smiles.

“I love watching you play, but I have to go to Walgreens. I’m out of a bunch of stuff I need. And then I just want to relax.”

He gives me a wry smile. “Real exciting, Flynn. You need to remember you’re still young.”

“What can I say? I’m not a famous hockey player with a glam life.” I wink at him. He knows I’m messing with him.

“I like living it up.” He raises his brows playfully. I smile warmly at my brother, who is a perpetual party animal.

He walks a couple of steps toward me and places a kiss on my forehead. “I don’t know if I’ve said this enough, Flynny, but I’m real proud of you.”

My lips tug at the corners. “Thanks. The feeling is mutual. You were amazing last night. Dad would have been proud,” I say, surprising myself. Over the years, Oli and I have never spoken much about our dead parents. Maybe it’s living with him again after being apart for so long, but I feel like we need to keep their memory alive, even if we’ve skated around it in the past.

“Yeah.” He gives me a sad smile. “I’m going to go nap before the game tonight.”

I shovel the chicken parmesan into my mouth because I’m a hungry beast and it tastes delicious. When I’m done, I grab my purse, keys, and jacket and head out of the apartment. Just as I’m locking Oli’s front door, I hear another door open. Myles—we are even closer now than we were when we were kids, because now there’s no lawn to cross, just a few feet of hallway.

“Hey.” His deep voice hits me. My breath hitches at the sight of him in a tank top that shows off his muscular arms and a pair of gym shorts that sit low on his waist. I swallow hard then curse inside my head because how is it possible that he’s leaving his apartment at the same moment as me?

“Hey,” I answer, my voice one octave too high.

“Where you headed?” he asks.

“To the drugstore. Need to stock up on my supplies.” I don’t exactly want to mention that most of my things are still back at the apartment I shared with my cheating ex.

“I was just going to check my mail. I can give you a ride. The rain is nasty.” He’s always been kind, but after kissing him last night, I think it’s a bad idea to be alone in a car with him.

“Thanks for the offer, but I will just grab an Uber,” I answer curtly.

He blows out a harsh breath. “Why do you always have to be so stubborn? I’m trying to be nice here. Cut me some slack.”

I don’t know what to say to that. My mouth opens so I can speak, but I don’t have a good rebuttal. Damn him. “I really think it’s better I go on my own.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he says.

“Excuse me?” I ask, a little flabbergasted.

“You heard me. I’m offering you a ride. I’m trying to be your friend,” he answers, and irritation drips from his tone.

“A friend, huh?” I huff. “I haven’t seen you in seven years. I wouldn’t exactly say we’re friends.” The words escape me before I can lock them down. I’m tired and worn out. I need some peace and quiet. Myles isn’t helping that.

He takes a step back. “Ouch. That was harsh. Maybe even deserved, but I can throw that argument right back at you.”

My frustration deflates.

“You know what? Why the hell not. If it means so much to you, then give me a ride.” I roll my eyes at him. He lifts a hand to his mouth to cover his laugh.

He turns back to his apartment door and says, “Let me just grab my keys and throw on some warmer clothes. Do you want to come in?” He waits for me to answer.

I wrap my hands around my torso and shake my head.

“Suit yourself.” He walks back into his apartment but leaves the front door open. Of course, I peek. It’s a little less modern than my brother’s apartment, yet very masculine and refined. Myles comes back out to the front door, so I pull my gaze away, not wanting him to know I was checking his place out.

“Ready,” he says.

I follow him out to his car through an underground parking lot. He drives a black Hummer, and it’s rugged and manly just like him. Rain pelts the windows as we head out.

“Wow. The rain is intense,” I say, looking out the window.

“Told you.” He blasts the heat.

The scent of his car reminds me of home, of him.

I let out a heavy breath. The best memories of my childhood are wrapped up in Myles. Problem is, some of the worst ones are wrapped in him, too. The sadness briefly melts away as he glances at me, those stormy blue eyes holding an intensity that pulls at something deep inside.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he says, breaking the silence.

“What do you want to know?” I almost force a smile, but it still feels heavy. He’s nice enough to drive me in this shitty weather, so it’s only fair I call a small truce.

He shrugs. “Anything.”

“I’m an attorney. I work at Weldrick and Ross,” I say.

“I know all that. I’ve kept tabs on you through your brother all these years. You’ve done good. I meant the small details. Do you still like to eat Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked?” he asks.

I giggle. “Still my favorite.” It would be a good night to pick up a gallon. I deserve to drown myself in the deliciously rich ice cream after the week I’ve had.

“How about you? Do you still like to have a donut with your cheat meals?”

He laughs and throws his head back. “I do. Only there’s no Tim Horton’s here. I’ve been settling for Krispy Kreme.” He says. Tim Horton’s is a Canadian fast food chain that sells the best coffee and donuts. It’s one of the things I miss since leaving Canada.

He gives me another side-glance, and my belly flips. Chatting with him like this feels like old times. The rain comes down hard, and we are stuck in a traffic jam. “I hope you won’t be late for the game tonight.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve got some time.” Someone cuts him off, and he slams the brakes. My seat belt tightens, and his tires skid a little on the road. I press my hand to his dashboard as if it will help the car to stop. “Still a backseat driver, too, I see.” His glove compartment falls open, and a bunch of papers come pouring out.

“Shoot. Sorry. I must have hit the button by accident.” I begin to gather the messy papers, when a picture slides out of the pile. My eyes narrow on it because I’m sure it looks familiar. I take it and bring it closer. I must be about sixteen years old in this picture. Myles has his arm wrapped around my shoulder. My friends Ana and Emerson from back home are standing with us. I’m wearing a blue bikini. Myles was on break from the OHL—the provincial hockey league he played for before getting drafted. It was summer vacation, and he had a pool party in his backyard. My gaze turns to Myles. His jaw is tense, and his hands grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles whiten.

“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 pay, 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.