Chapter Twenty-Four

Flynn

It’s a Tuesday evening when my phone rings. After a long day of work, I’m ready to kick back and talk to Myles on the phone, since he’s been away these last few days.

“Hey, Tink.” His deep baritone voice comes through the phone causing butterflies to dance in my stomach. He left the day after the skate-off which led to our reunion. We only kissed that night and hung out a little because he left on a bus early the next morning. The phone calls have been good, though, as we learn about each other as adults. At least on the phone we can control our hormones somewhat.

“Hey.” My voice is a little breathy as I lie on my bed back at Oli’s apartment. “How was the game yesterday? Sorry I missed it. Work is nuts.” I twirl a piece of my hair with my finger.

“It was okay. We lost four to five. It happens. Team is a little tired. We have another game tonight, so hopefully we’ll kick butt.”

“I’m sure you will,” I answer.

“What are you doing now?” he asks. His voice has turned a little raspy.

“Just lying in bed.”

“Oh yeah?” he says. I’ve clearly piqued his interest. “What are you wearing?” he asks, and I decide to embellish a little, since we haven’t been able to make out at all.

“I’m still dressed from work, but I undid the buttons to my blouse so it’s hanging open.”

He hisses into the phone. “What color is your bra?” His tone has turned husky, his need apparent.

I giggle. “I thought we were taking things slow,” I say, just wanting to play with him a little because his husky voice ignites a fire in me, and if I’m to be able to maintain any self-control around him, I have to play things down.

“It’s only a bra. We are adults, you know,” he chides me. He isn’t going to make this easy for me.

I relent. “It’s white lace,” I say as I truly begin to unbutton my ivory-colored blouse.

“It’s see-through, isn’t it? Are your nipples peaking through the lace?” His excitement is endearing. The longing in his voice pulls at something deep inside me.

“Yes.” My answer is a little breathier than I’d like.

“Touch them,” he says, and I freeze. This is Myles, and we haven’t done anything more than kiss. I’m a little shy to be jumping to phone sex, if this is what it is.

“Myles…I–I’m shy.” I want to tell him that I’m not one of his sex kittens. I’ve slept with fewer men than I have fingers on one hand.

He groans. “You’re right. We should talk.” We need to be patient and take things slow, I remind myself.

“Good. So, what are we talking about tonight?” I ask. We’ve been trying to catch up on life from the time he lived in Toronto and I lived in New York.

“I want to know something,” he says. I don’t know why, but his tone makes me a little nervous.

“You have my attention.”

He clears his throat. “Were you a virgin that night? The night of the draft party. The night I confessed my feelings to you.”

My stomach dips. I shouldn’t be surprised by his question because we both promised not to hold anything back if there was something we wanted to know.

“I was,” I admit quietly.

“That’s what I thought.” He sighs. “I would have waited until you were ready. Until everything was perfect.” I feel melancholy for losing that moment with him. Not that my first time was bad, just with Myles it would have been beyond special.

“Thank you. I love that you would have waited for me given all your experience,” I add because his reputation for getting around seems to be sticking out in my mind like a sore thumb.

“My life wasn’t filled with puck bunnies back then,” he says, surprising me. “I know you think that I was sleeping around a lot, but I didn’t.” By his tone of voice, I sense he’s holding something back.

“What do you mean?” I ask skeptically. He and Oli always seemed to have girls around. The whole team did.

“The night of the draft party, I was a virgin, too,” he blurts out, and I fly up to a seated position on the bed. Did I hear him right? Am I losing my mind?

“What?” I can’t hide the shock in my tone even if I wanted, too.

“I’m serious. The night of my pool party when you tried to kiss me, we were sixteen. I had made out with a bunch of girls before then but never sex. When you pressed your lips to mine you tilted my world upside down. We were young but after that night I didn’t hook up with any girls for like two years.”

“I…uh…I,” I stammer not knowing what to say.

“I know. It’s messed up. Believe me I know. I wanted to come to you a thousand times over. I was a coward.” He sighs.

“You were honorable. Wow, Myles, that would have been amazing.” My chest squeezes as the past comes back to hurt me once again.

“I know,” he says so softly I barely hear it. “Don’t go getting down on me. I still plan on making our first time together very special.”

“That’s sweet.” I lie back on the bed and relax into the pillows. Thoughts of being intimate with Myles swirl in my mind.

“We are going to get it right this time, baby,” he says, and his deep, sexy voice sends a warmth through my body.

“I want to believe that,” I answer as old fears take root. I always seem to get paranoid when things are going really well for me.

“Okay, don’t go digging deep now, Tink. Tell me something else about yourself. Something that doesn’t have to do with sex.” He chuckles. “Can’t believe I just said that.”

I laugh. “Okay.” I’m back to twirling a piece of my hair. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you like to listen to music? What is your favorite band?”

“Hmm, that’s easy. I really like the Steve Andrews Band.”

“Do you go to concerts?” he continues.

“I haven’t had time for anything but work lately, before that I was busy with school and my internship in New York.”

“You’ve always been focused, but we need to change that. I’m pretty sure the Steve Andrews Band is on tour. I like them, too. I’m going to look for some concert tickets.”

“That sounds fun. I know I need to get out more. I look forward to going out more with you.”

“Good. Me, too. I’ll be home tomorrow, and I have the night off,” he says. “Will you be around?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to kiss the hell out of you,” he says, and my belly flips.

“That sounds perfect.”

“One more thing,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“If we go places and we’re seen together, the media will be on to us. I don’t know how you feel about that. I was kind of thinking that maybe we could just hang out at my place for a while. I want to have you all to myself before our relationship goes viral,” he explains.

“That sounds like a plan. We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” I answer.

“’Night, Tink.”

“’Night.”

Knowing he waited for me makes my insides flip. I know we said we would take things slow, but I have no clue how I’m going to follow through with that now.

…

After work, I stop at Whole Foods. I want to make us a home-cooked meal and I know Myles doesn’t keep his fridge stocked the way Oli does.

I’m cooking when Oli comes home.

“Hi.” He smiles. “How was your week?”

I laugh. “Good. Busy. I’m heading over to Myles’s for dinner.”

“Myles debriefed me.” He winks. “Glad to see you smiling again.”

“It feels good,” I admit. “I’ll leave some in a tray on the counter for you.”

“Thanks.” His lips tug at the corners.

“Let me grab the salad for you,” Oli offers as he holds the apartment door for me. We go the few steps down the hall, and at his place, Myles opens his door to me and Oli, carrying the food. He looks at the trays, then at me, and his blue eyes heat.

“Okay, then…” Oli begins to mumble, clearly taken back by the way Myles has fixated on me. “You take this.” Oli passes Myles the bowl with the salad. “You have a good night, kids.”

“This doesn’t have to be weird, Oliver,” Myles calls out.

“Yes, but it is,” Oli calls back from his apartment door.

My cheeks flush. Myles looks down at me. “He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.”

I follow him into his apartment. He places the salad on the table, and I put the hot tray beside it. Myles moves fast to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” He sighs as his lips move closer to mine. My body heats from his touch.

“Feeling is mutual,” I answer as he places small pecks on my lips. I get warm and tingly from his kisses.

“Oh yeah,” he says through the small kisses, his voice husky. “You taste good enough to eat.” His words turn me on, and I clench my thighs together, feeling a familiar heat. I sigh. His hand still holds my head close to his. “Let me just take a quick shower.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” I answer, breathless, my body temperature elevated.

“Make yourself at home.” He smiles warmly. For the past seven years, when I’ve pictured his face, I felt an overwhelming sadness. Now that I’m here with him, it’s no longer the case. I wonder how long I’ll be able to hold myself back from jumping his sexy bones.

He heads to his room to take a shower while I go through his kitchen to look for utensils to set up the table and plates, too. He has rustic taste. It looks like he ordered most of his furniture from Pottery Barn. I love the warm, homely feel.

When Myles comes back, his hair is wet, and he’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs his chest and arms, and a pair of black lounge pants.

My body buzzes. I don’t remember ever feeling this way.

“I’m starved. Thanks so much for doing this.” He leans forward and gives me a kiss.

We sit down and pile on the chicken and vegetables. We begin to eat, quietly focusing on the food. Truth is I’m starving, too. It’s hard to fit a proper meal into my day at work. We are that busy.

“This is really good. I didn’t know you could cook,” he says, placing his fork down and taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him.

“Yeah, well, once we moved to New York, I bought a collection of cookbooks and kind of winged the first few meals until I learned what I was doing in the kitchen. We didn’t have a full-time maid at first, and Oli is, well, Oli.” I snicker. “He loves food, and we both wanted to eat healthy, so I took on the job of cooking our meals because he was too busy starting out.”

“Yeah, I was also forced to learn, but then life got busy with hockey, so I basically had takeout menus from some of the best restaurants in Toronto.”

“We were all forced to grow up overnight,” I say, matter of fact, even though the words carry a heavy sadness.

Myles nods.

“I wanted to mention something—I know you sometimes check my social media,” he says, and a blush crawls up my cheeks when I remember calling him out on it. “There are a lot of women on there, posting all kinds of things. You know we have a lot of fans whose goal is to hookup to have something to brag about.” His cheeks flush slightly as if he’s embarrassed.

“I know.” My blood turns a little cold as I wonder where this conversation is headed.

“I want you to ignore everything that’s said there. I haven’t been a saint, but that’s all in my past.” He grins, looking at me with a sincerity that guts me.

I take a steady breath. As much as I hate to admit it, with him being away these last few days, these exact thoughts crossed my mind more than once.

“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.” I grin. “After my last relationship… Well, I keep wondering why I wasn’t enough for him.” I fork a piece of chicken into my mouth.

“You should never think that.” He shakes his head. “The guy was a fool. I’ve only kissed you and I can’t get enough. He didn’t deserve you, and I’m thankful for that.”

He says it so vehemently, I want to believe him.

“Did you love him?” He doesn’t look me straight in the eye, as if he’s worried my answer will somehow hurt him.

I shake my head. “At the time, I thought I did. Matt and I were comfortable. We made sense on paper. Now I know it wasn’t love.” I realize that now. “Him cheating was probably a good thing.” It feels good to admit that out loud.

Myles nods.

“How about you?” I ask him. “Anyone special?”

“I had one serious relationship. She was a psychology major at the University of Chicago,” he says, placing his fork down on his plate. I remember asking my brother about that girl a couple of years back. He told me it was nothing, but it irked me that she looked a lot like me. It made me wonder if Myles had a type.

“How long were you together?” I can’t help myself. The rational part of my brain knows he had a life all these years without me, but it doesn’t mean I need to punish myself by asking questions I don’t really want the answers to.

“A year.” He sounds apologetic. “I guess I needed a break from all the crazy, and Tammy gave me that,” he says.

“What happened?” I ask. I’ve stopped eating, too.

“She broke up with me,” he admits, and I can’t read his emotions right now. If I could, I would think he looks upset about it.

“Oh.”

His gaze cuts to mine. “She was studying psychology. I opened up to her about the accident.”

It feels like a blade has sliced through my chest because a part of me feels that we should have worked through the accident together.

“She was in love with me, but she felt I was holding back.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I wasn’t all in. When she left me, she told me she hoped I’d get you back.”

“You told her about me?” My eyes open wide. I never spoke to Matt or anyone about Myles.

“You came up. I didn’t exactly come out and say I had feelings for you. When she called me on it, I told her that you were more than my best friend.” He pauses and watches me.

A thousand possibilities of what could have been rush through my mind. He extends his hand for mine. I give it to him. We stand.

He pulls me in and hugs me fiercely. “So good to have you in my arms again.” He draws his head back a little, and his lips ghost over mine.

My hands come up to cup his head, and the kiss deepens, my tongue swiping along his lower lip. Unbridled passion furls through me. Myles’s hands rake up and down my body before landing on my behind. He gives me a possessive squeeze there, pulling me closer, so our bodies are flush. His hard length pressing into my belly causes sparks to shoot through me and the apex of my thighs to clench. The kiss breaks with a pop as he moves down my neck, swiping his tongue along my heated skin. I tilt my head into his neck, licking a path up to the back of his ear. He lets out a guttural groan from the back of his throat, making me so wet for him.

“I want to do so many things to you right now, but we need to wait.” He says it like he’s fighting an inner battle between what he wants and what he knows to be right. I can’t argue with him—there are so many parts of me that are broken. My mind needs to catch up with my emotions. He stops kissing me and hugs me again. “Maybe we should try to watch some TV or just relax,” he suggests.

I cock a brow and give him a look that says, really?

“Don’t give me that look. I said I’m in this for the long run. I don’t want to do something before you’re ready,” he says, pulling me by the hand over to his brown leather couch.

“Okay, but let me get the dishes.” I turn back.

“Leave the dishes.”

He takes a seat on the couch, and I snuggle in next to him.

“Christmas is in a few weeks,” he says, picking up the remote. “We haven’t been together for so long. I want this year to be special. Your brother told me you guys didn’t do a whole lot back in New York.”

“True.” Celebrating Christmas became too painful, so we would act like it was like any other night.

“I have some time off this weekend. I want us to go shopping together. I want to make a big deal of it this year. A big celebration for Christmas Eve. We’ll have a turkey…the works,” he says, and his eyes sparkle like I’ve never seen before.

“That sounds perfect. Is it okay if I have Sloane over, too? She doesn’t have anyone here.”

“Sloane is in,” Myles agrees. I reach up and caress the scruff on his jaw. My gaze remains trained on his lips as my chest warms, but I don’t look him in the eye, fearful my gaze will reveal my deep feelings for him.

As if he can read my thoughts, he kisses my forehead, and I go back to leaning on his chest. Only, we don’t watch TV for long because his hand slides under my shirt, and his fingers tickle the small area under my rib cage.

“Oh hell.” I turn around and lift myself up, smashing my lips to his.

Through the kiss, he mutters, “I may not sleep with you, but we sure as hell can make out like a couple of teenagers.”

With my lips still pressed to his, I answer, “Well, we did miss out on the hot and heavy make-out sessions, so we might as well catch up.” Just as I say the last word, his left palm connects with my breast. At first, he just holds it there.

“Can I touch your boobs?” he asks with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

I swat his arm and reach down to cup his very hard length through his lounge pants. “Only if I can do this,” I answer seductively, rubbing him over the fabric.

He groans. “You’re trying to kill me woman.” I seal his words with a kiss as he squeezes my breast and runs his finger over my puckered nipple.

I moan into his mouth. “That feels nice.” I break the kiss, and his lips move to my neck. My head lolls around as he presses kisses all over my sensitized skin.

“You keep making those sweet sounds, and I am going to have a very hard time taking things slow.” He growls. “The things I want to do to you.”

“I can’t wait.”

Then, I yawn.

“Wow.” He laughs.

“Don’t give me that look. It’s been a long day. I should get going. I have to be up for work early tomorrow.” I stand up from the couch, feeling the swell of my lips from hours of kissing and necking.

“Curfew, huh?” he jokes as I reach behind me to reclasp my bra, since he undid it. “Here let me,” he says, standing from the couch and adjusting his hard-on.

He places a chaste kiss on my lips. “Don’t worry. You look like you’ve been making out for hours.”

“Ha-ha! Very funny.” I roll my eyes.

“Will you come back tomorrow after my game?” he asks.

I nod.

I kiss him and walk out the door. My body is humming, my insides are warm. I head to my bedroom, slide into bed, and fall asleep, truly happy.