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.

“No there isn’t room for games.” I agree. I want to ask him why he never came out to New York to see me after my parents died. He was still my best friend and I needed him, but those words get caught in my throat. We are at an impasse. My head falls in my hands.

“What is it?” he asks, and I feel so frustrated with myself.

“I can’t talk about it,” I grit my jaw.

“Hey.” He takes me by the chin and forces me to look at him. “We need to talk about it eventually,” he says, and I know he’s right but the whole situation is so hard.

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“I understand. You need time.”

A garbled laugh escapes me. “I’ve had seven years. You’d think it would be enough time.”

He gives me a sad smile. “I get it. I do. Not tonight but maybe soon,” he says softly his voice sweet and understanding like the day he took me to the Ledge. He makes me want to fall for him.

“Yeah, soon,” I agree. A small yawn escapes me. I have to be at work early. “Would you mind if we went home now?” He turns my world upside down and I need to find my bearings. For that I need to have space away from him.

“Yeah.” His brow creases, and he gives my hand a squeeze.

A few minutes later, he starts the car and I turn to him placing my hand on his hand holding the stick shift. “For the record, I don’t think you’re like either of your parents. You’re a loyal friend,” I say and turn away to put my seat belt on expecting him to pull out of the parking spot. Only when I turn back around he has both hands on the steering wheel gripping it tight and he isn’t driving.

“I wish you’d say it, but I see you are too kind, so I will…” He cuts me a look that shows the deep hurt in the depths of his blue eyes. “I wasn’t a loyal friend to you.”

His words slam into me. Words escape me.

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m taking full responsibility for my actions. I want to make promises to you right here and right now, but I can’t. I don’t trust myself. What I do want you to know is that—” He takes a sharp intake of breath. “I’m so damn sorry for not coming to New York, for not being there for you. I know you were sad.”

I can’t stop the tears.

“I was so mad at you.” I shake my head because it’s unfair of me to feel that way. “I asked you to stay away. I can’t blame you for respecting my requests.” I admit, surprising myself.

He looks up to the sky like he is willing some force to give him strength. “You were hurting, I don’t think you really wanted me to stay away. You weren’t thinking straight. None of us were. We were just trying to get by. In hindsight I understand it better now. Not that it helps all the years we lost.”

“No, it doesn’t make up for lost time, but Myles I’m still…” I pause I can’t even figure out what is in my own mind.

“You’re still hurting. The wound hasn’t healed.” He places his hand on mine. “It’s okay.”

Tears flow down my cheeks. Despite everything Myles is so understanding. He was once my broken Peter Pan but now it’s me that is broken. It scares me how long it’s taking me to heal. Maybe I never will.

“I should have come to you,” he repeats. “My head was just so messed up. I was a wreck after the accident. And a lifetime of my parents’ neglect came crashing down on me. I didn’t have my head on straight. It took me a long time to come to terms with what happened that night. I know you aren’t ready to talk about it, either.” He exhales harshly. “Staying away made sense.”

“It did.” I agree.

“It doesn’t make sense anymore,” he says sternly, and I want to believe those words, but I’m too broken to think straight. “Let’s just lay everything out.”

My breath catches. “Not yet. Please.”

“Okay. Relax. I’m not pushing you. I meant it. I’m here always. Whenever you’re ready.” Those words provide me reassurance. They make me feel supported, but they also scare the daylights out of me. I’m not sure I can let go. I’ve been holding on so long.

Myles drives us back home. I head into Oli’s apartment feeling more torn up than at the beginning of the night.

Myles and I seem to be on a roller-coaster ride, feeling the highs of our attraction and the lows of the reasons we’ve stayed apart. And I’m no closer to having any answers. I just don’t know what to do. There is one thing I do know. I need to talk with Myles about the night my parents died. That’s the only way we are going to get any closure.