3. Miles
3
MILES
F or most of my life, I wasn’t invested in who was the big or little spoon. Cuddling with another person, sharing their space, never made my wish list.
But since Brooke moved in, there’s no hotel bed that can stack up to the feel of this woman in my arms. Her skin against mine. Her back fitted to my front so that I can see her, smell her, feel her. It’s Brooke in surround sound.
She can call me out, wrap me around her damned finger, but she’s still my little spoon.
I brush her hair back to murmur against her ear, “Morning, Princess.”
She grumbles a response.
Without any intervention, she can sleep until noon. Maybe that’s why I was able to seduce her—through coffee. Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.
Last night, I went over to Grams’s new retirement home to check that the new furniture I got her had been delivered and installed. It also took my mind off the shoe deal. The first payment is supposed to come in once we announce all-star week, whether I land a spot or not.
But I haven’t heard anything lately, and the meeting with Chloe and management is still on my mind.
Apologize to Kevin.
When I updated Brooke on the meeting yesterday, I left that part out.
There’s no way I’m apologizing to the piece of shit who thought he could make her life hell—the one who seems as if he’s decided he’s not over the tiny bit of payback he got when I slammed my fist into his face years ago and told him never to go near her again.
My hand twinges thinking about it.
He’s not coming back.
If he knows what’s good for him in that preppy head, he won’t be back.
I force myself to relax and skim her shoulder, down her arm, across her stomach where her top has ridden up. “Big day today.”
Brooke’s eyes fly open. “Grams.”
She’s awake and already trying to shift out of bed. I drag her back.
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asks, turning to face me. “I mean, except for the all-star game and Grams and the shittiest blast from my past showing up at your work.”
My hands lace behind her neck, playing with the hair at her nape.
Her lashes lower to half-mast, the light peeking through the curtains shining on her golden skin, and I remind myself how fucking lucky I am to be with her, touching her, existing in her damned orbit.
And that’s why I don’t say it. If I’m pissed off over it, I can only imagine how livid she’d be.
Because I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this girl, and now that I have her—sort of, almost, or so I tell myself since she sleeps in my bed, teaches my dog tricks, and carefully curates the metric ton of her designer shoes in my closet—I can’t bring myself to toss those words on the pile of everything else burning in my life right now.
Everything bad is outside the walls of this room.
I grin. “Except for those? Nothing.”
“Damn. Is that an echo?” I turn around in Grams’s new living room, extending my arms. “This place is big enough you’ll be hosting Bridgerton balls every weekend.”
Grams laughs. “That’s one way to make friends.”
It’s rewarding to see her smiling on move-in day because it’s taken a ton of work to get here. Visiting different places, convincing her it was the right idea, going back and forth with my accountant to ensure there would be enough to cover everything she’d need today and always.
This retirement home is ten minutes farther away than the last one, but I’ll sleep better knowing about the round-the-clock care and other safety features they reminded me of when I went in to sign the contracts.
“If you need help with your hair for these soirées, let me know. I’ve got a good hand with feathers.” Brooke glances over from where she’s arranging Grams’s photos on a shelf.
“Feathers, huh?” I murmur near Brooke’s ear.
She laughs, but I’m already making a mental note to order one of everything from Victoria’s Secret.
“Well? What do you think?” I ask Grams as she walks around her new place.
Her smile has faded. Hopefully, it’s just tiredness setting in after a busy day. She takes in the bedroom and bathroom, both decorated in her favorite colors and complete with plenty of handrails to help avoid falls like the one that had her in a cast for weeks.
At least the cast has finally come off.
“Where are my games?” Grams asks.
“I put them in the coffee table drawer.” I motion that way.
“Oh.”
Brooke looks between us. “If we slide this over here…” She rearranges immediately, retrieving Monopoly, plus Clue and Life, and carrying them to the shelf. “That way you can see them.”
Relief softens Grams’s features.
We finish organizing things before walking Grams down to dinner. It’s not even five, but they eat early at these places.
“Don’t charm them all at once,” I warn. “Or people will start doing crazy things for one of those ball invites.”
“I’ll do my best.” She laughs, her eyes getting damp at the corners. “I’m lucky to have such a kind grandson. I’m so proud of you, Miles. The boy you were and the man you’ve become.”
Shit. She’s going to make me cry too. After all she’s done for me, no other accolade can measure up to knowing Grams admires and respects me.
“Yeah, well, I’ll get the Kodiaks into playoffs and make you proud again.”
“It’s not only about basketball.”
“Don’t tell our owner that. Or the GM. Or my agent.”
I hug her and help her find a seat with another woman who introduces herself immediately.
Two watchful staff are already there, helping residents and chatting with them.
My hand finds Brooke’s as we head for the doors. Halfway there, I pull up. “Did we forget something? Her meds?—”
“Her pill dispenser is in the bathroom on the counter. The staff have her list so they can check in with her.” Brooke tugs me forward.
“Right.” I shake my head.
Now that this moment is here, I’m reminded how many fewer adult decisions I’ve had to make than most people. Since college, every aspect of my health has been prescribed, my hours are filled with games and practice and treatment and travel.
The team’s sports psychologists are always reminding us to control what we can.
This was something I could control.
I hope I did the right thing.
“It’s going to be great,” she promises as we step outside.
My thoughts shift to Brooke.
Emotions that are so big they threaten to take me out fill my chest, stretch my ribs.
It’s not that they’re new exactly. It’s almost as if they’ve always taken up space in the dark closet of my mind, but I’ve been afraid to look at them for too long or I’ll be found out. But since she moved in, I’ve found myself leaving the door open. I glance at them when I pass, even nod in acknowledgment.
Lately, they don’t wait for me to come looking. They pop out and make themselves known at every damned interval.
Does she feel it too?
I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on her, especially with everything going on.
One more thing I can control.
“Time to grab dinner?” she asks.
“Uh, yeah.”
I shake off the overwhelming feelings and drive us downtown. On the way, I call my favorite restaurant to ask if they have a table for us. They confirm but ask if we can wait until six when they officially open.
Since we’re not in a hurry, I find parking a few blocks away. On our way to the restaurant, we pass a park with a basketball court. Some teenagers are playing pickup, one even wearing shorts despite the cold and snow at the edge of the court. The asphalt is warm enough to be dry, and their sneakers fly across it.
I’m itching to join them.
It’s barely a minute before one of the guys looks over and yanks on his friend’s shirt. “Look. Is that…?”
“Shit, it is.”
The game stops, and I wave. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
“Are you kidding? We all play on our high school teams.” He names two local schools. “We watch every Kodiaks game on TV.”
“You ever been to one?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not since last year. You seen how much resale tickets go for now?”
“Maybe if you keep losing,” one of them says helpfully. Another smacks him lightly on the side of the head.
I make a mental note to get home game tickets sent to the teams of the two schools.
The main guy who’s been speaking confers under his breath with a couple of others. “Hey, can we get a picture?”
Brooke nudges my shoulder. “We’ve got time for more than a picture.”
I turn back to the teens. More than one of them is looking at her. I can’t blame them, and they’re young enough I’m not going to give them shit if she doesn’t mind.
“You can have a picture on one condition: let me play.”
Half a dozen sets of brows shoot up. “Hell yes.”
I shrug out of my jacket and pass it to her. “Can you keep this for me?”
“Go get ‘em.” Brooke winks.
I pull her close for a hard kiss, ignoring the hollers that go up behind me. “Thanks,” I say when I let her go.
I’m in jeans and a sweater, but my shoes are decent enough for jogging a few steps around a city court.
We play three-on-three, other guys rotating off to make room. I take it easy on the first play.
“That’s all you got?” the main kid asks.
Then I school them a little. I dribble past them and cut to the basket. Then I steal the ball down the other end, taking it to the perimeter to hit a three.
They’re eating it up.
It’s fun to play with them. I show them a few moves.
When I glance over, Brooke’s got her phone up.
I check my watch and realize we’ve been at this nearly half an hour. “Thanks for the game,” I say, and they groan in protest as I lift a hand. “Good luck with your season.”
“Wait. Give me your handle,” Brooke says to the main guy.
“Are you asking him out?” one of the others asks as he provides it, and snorts erupt amongst the teens.
“Nice try,” Brooke says dryly without looking up. “There. The video’s all yours.”
They’re still giddy when I put my jacket back on and we start for the restaurant, my heart thudding a little more and the blood thrumming in my veins.
“It was cool of you to send them that video,” I say as we head up the sidewalk side by side, her taking two steps for every one of mine.
Brooke laughs. “They’ll keep it forever. But first, they’re going to post it, and it will spread like wildfire. Your shoe company will see it. So will Kodiaks management, which will remind them they made the right choice.”
My mouth works for a second. “But… how do you know it’ll spread?”
She smiles. “Trust me.”
The walk sign comes up, and we start across the street.
I shake my head. “You’re scary good sometimes, you know that?”
“I know,” she says evenly. “You afraid of me?”
I pull her against my side, wondering if she can feel my heart skip. “Never.” Guilt kicks in my gut at what I’m still keeping from her. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
We make it to the other sidewalk and pass a few groups of pedestrians before I speak again.
“Chloe wants me to apologize to Kevin.”
She blinks. “What?”
“In public,” I confirm.
Princess and I are a lot of things, but quiet isn’t one of them. Now, silence stretches between us.
“She’s right,” she says at last.
It’s my turn to be caught off guard. I pull up, unsure I’ve heard her right. “I’m not going through with it.”
She stops too, lifting her chin. “You should. There’s no getting out of it. He has nothing at stake here.”
I think of the photos I have saved. “Wouldn’t say that?—”
“I mean right now,” she presses. “Think about what’s on the line for you.”
“He’s here for you, not for me.” The words are out before I think about how they’d sound.
Her eyes widen. “You’re right. This is my fault.”
I pull her close to my side and curse myself for saying it. “That’s not what I meant, Princess.”
But the rest of the night, I’m thinking about it, and I know she is too.