13. Miles
13
MILES
W hen I was a kid, I used to love going to fairs—the rides, the games, the music. They’ve all gotten bigger since I was young. Case in point: the new amusement park opening near Fort Collins this weekend.
Someone on their PR team reached out to see if I would help them open it. Now, I’m in the front seat of a roller coaster car, sitting next to a photographer filming it all.
“I’m surprised your girlfriend didn’t want to come,” the woman calls over the wind as the car climbs higher. “She afraid of heights?”
I smile, but it’s tight. “She’s not afraid of anything.”
Including walking away from me.
The thought sneaks in before I can stop it. The memory of watching her walk out the door plays on repeat every time I close my eyes. It’s the worst gut punch I’ve ever experienced.
We’re not broken up. It’s space.
I tell myself for the hundredth time.
Thing is, I’ve never had a woman say that to me before and never been close enough that I would’ve had to analyze what the hell that even meant.
When you try not to spend every second thinking about the person you’ve been spending every second thinking about, you need to replace them with something else.
Distraction is something I’m an expert at.
Hence, amusement park.
The roller coaster car reaches the peak and drops.
Screams go up.
Human beings built these rolling metal monsters to see how much we can feel. By the second loop, I’m feeling way too much.
The rest of the ride, I’m preoccupied, right up until I’m stepping off at the end and my phone rings.
“Drug test came back.” My agent’s voice comes over the phone as I head toward the sponsor’s booth to take more photos. “It’s clean.”
My eyes close in relief. Even though I knew I did nothing wrong, part of me was on edge until we got the official results. “So, the five-game suspension’s going to lift? I can get back in uniform what, tomorrow?”
“I’m working on that.”
There’s a line of fans almost as long as the ride for the coaster.
Brooke doesn’t want to be around me, but that doesn’t mean other people don’t. The thought is shitty, but a small, petty part of me feels good thinking it.
A bigger part of me feels like it’s been stomped into a paste using stiletto heels. Guess that’s the difference in being sore over someone you liked and having your heart ripped out and handed to you.
“The season isn’t over. Go to the gym. Keep your head down. We need to focus.” My agent’s voice brings me back.
“That’s what I’m doing.” My hand covers my mouth. “Excuse me.”
I step behind the building and throw up next to a plant.
brOOKE
“Brooke, are you coming down for dinner?” Mom’s voice echoes up the stairs.
I haven’t lived with my parents since before college. My room is still perfectly preserved, which I should be grateful for, but it brings back too many memories.
I start to say no, but my stomach growls. When was the last time I ate anything? I honestly can’t remember.
Since I moved back in a week ago, I’ve been trying to keep my distance from Miles, but I can’t help wondering what he’s doing practically every second.
I click over to Miles’s profile on social media. I don’t expect to see any updates. He’s on suspension, for goodness’ sake.
What’s there has my brows shooting up.
He went to the opening of a new amusement park. There’s a woman hanging off him. Commenters are saying how cute they look.
It’s not as though I wanted him lying on his couch devastated. If getting out is helping him feel better, then I’m relieved, but I’m not sure an amusement park outing is what he needs right now.
Maybe I made the wrong choice by putting space between us. This relationship is new. What if we’re not close enough to handle this?
The text comes in while I’m still thinking of him.
Miles: Drug test came back clean.
My heart lifts. Hell yes. I do a fist pump in the air because no one’s watching but it still feels good.
Brooke: I’m glad.
Miles: Thanks, Princess. Me too.
So, if the drugs weren’t Miles’s, which I knew for myself even if others didn’t, whose were they?
I’ve been turning over the possibilities in my mind.
Miles is beloved in the league and in this city. The Kodiaks, on the other hand, have a bullseye on their backs.
What if the accident in Vegas gave someone the idea to target him?
“Brooke?!” My mom’s voice is louder this time.
I shove the phone in my pocket and head to the dining room where my parents are already seated, plus my brother.
“Wow. Big happy family,” I observe.
My mom and dad have the TV on, which features soundless commentary of my mom’s campaign, then they do a split screen with a video of Miles and me at the all-star game.
I flinch. “What is that?”
Mom clicks off the TV. “The news cycle. Someone always finds something to pick at. We'll make it through. Ellis women, after all. We don't give up without a fight.”
I’m grateful for her saying it.
“How was your game?” Dad’s the one to ask Jay, not me.
“It was okay.”
“You lost by twenty, got your asses handed to you,” I observe, earning a dirty look. “Good thing Miles is back in two more games. Is there any word on what happened?”
“Nothing official.”
“Right. Because that’s why I’m asking my brother on the team instead of reading the news.”
Jay rolls his eyes.
“No more talk about basketball,” Mom decides.
I shift in my seat. “Oh good. Let’s talk politics.”
“Kevin’s family is making progress on their merger. It will become one of the largest firms in the state.”
“So sorry I couldn’t marry into them,” I say under my breath.
“Our image could use the polishing. They’re up for an ethics award.”
I throw my napkin on the table. The idea of Kevin claiming the moral high ground in any sense is laughable. “Excuse me. I can’t eat right now.”
I throw myself into drafting some social media content for Nova. I love her new direction and approach. It’s hard to be a creator, an artist, and follow a new path—especially when her career relies on being able to bring her fans along with her.
After our visit to LA, I followed up with the owner at the Coastal Gallery. He still isn’t convinced of Nova’s new direction, but I’ve been working to remind him how brilliant and in-demand she is through a series of posts highlighting her recent successes. They’ve liked more than one of the posts, so I know they’re seeing them.
I’m nearly ready to send him a draft pitch. Nova will curate a completely original collection of paintings in a fresh new style. And after all, isn’t that what his patrons want? For Coastal to be a trailblazer? All he has to do is say yes.
Remembering my talk with Elise in New York, I sent an email to Sarah to ask for any help with partnerships and included my contact info. She said she’d get back to me shortly.
My mind keeps wandering.
I go to the suitcase I half unpacked and pull out the glittery red heels that Miles had fixed for me after the costume party.
I step into them. They look ridiculous with my outfit, but I don’t take them off as I click around my room because they make me think of the party. Me asking him to go to the Kappa retreat with me.
God, I was naive. Had no clue how hard I would fall.
I can’t resist typing out a text.
Brooke: When are you playing next?
I drop into the chair in front of my desk to work for a minute, two, before my phone buzzes.
Miles: Still waiting to hear back from my agent.
Brooke: Guess you can celebrate on roller coasters with Kodashians in the meantime.
Miles: Hah. Funny thing, there’s only one girl I want to be with.
Longing sneaks up, making my next breath painful.
I’ve always wanted to be my own person, and I am. But it feels as if when I walked out with that suitcase, he kept part of me.
I cross my legs and my shoes sparkle red in the light.
“There’s no place like home.” The words from the Wizard of Oz come back to me.
I’m in the house I grew up in with my family, but it feels as if my home is somewhere else entirely.
My finger finds the call button before I can stop myself.
“Hey.” Miles’s voice is surprised and pleased.
“Hey.”
If he’s upset that I called, there’s no trace of it in his tone, which only makes me want to crawl through the phone and into his arms.
The fact that he answered after one ring makes me think he might let me.
“How’s the space going?” he asks.
He’s right. This was probably a bad idea. “If you don’t want to talk?—”
“Not what I meant. I’m glad you called.”
The knot in my chest loosens. “How’s life?”
He sighs. “You want the truth?”
“No. Lie to me.”
There’s a low chuckle. “Well, the team is doing amazing. We’re in first, and I got a triple-double tonight.”
“Mmm.” The sound of his voice is lifting my spirits already. “What else?”
“Waffles learned to cook. He made a killer soufflé this morning.”
I laugh, unable to help picturing it.
“And… I’m talking to my favorite person. How about you?”
I bite my cheek, channeling my creativity to make up the best case scenario. “Well, Nova just sold three pieces in her new style. I stumbled on a massive designer trunk sale and bought one of everything at seventy percent off. Plus, Kevin’s family firm is definitely not winning an award for ethics.”
There’s silence on the line.
“I killed the vibe,” I say, apologetic.
“Don’t worry about it.”
I rub my tired face as I drop onto the bed. One of my shoes slips off my foot and clatters to the floor.
“What was that?” he asks.
I wince. “My shoe.”
“The red ones? I was bummed you’d taken them. I guess I hoped you’d leave them here. For the memories.”
The fact that he noticed makes my chest twinge. “That’s why I wanted them with me.”
He pauses. “Is it helping? The space?”
My eyes burn at the backs and I take a deep breath.
“Yeah.” I’m not sure.
“Listen. I wanted to tell you that I did try coke once. It was a rough spot and I went to this party. My parents were fighting after the split, and my Grams was having financial problems. I was at risk of getting cut from my team as a senior, which would mean no college scholarship and no pro ball. It was stupid. I was stupid.”
I swallow. “I thought you would have told me. Not because it changes how I think of you, but because of the accusations back in college when the Kappas found Kevin’s drugs in my room.”
“I think that’s partly why I didn’t. I don’t want to make your life harder. But recently I’ve realized you’re not the only one trying to look a certain way. I want to be the fun guy. The popular guy. Not the doubting one. Not the desperate one.” He takes a breath. “The only reason Jay knew is that he was there for the aftermath. He made sure I didn’t entertain it again.”
For a moment, I’m grateful to my brother for taking care of Miles and being a good friend.
“You can show me all the versions of you,” I promise. “It won’t scare me away.”
He exhales softly.
A text pings my phone.
Unknown: Hey Brooke, it’s Sarah from Elise’s team. Just emailed you some examples.
“I should go,” I say, reluctant. If I don’t hang up now, I might keep talking to him all night. So much for giving us both some space.
“Sure.” He sounds every bit as unsatisfied. “Night, Princess. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
My lips twitch. “Is that how it works?”
“You don’t want to talk tomorrow, then don’t answer.” He pauses. “You’re totally going to answer.”
The smile in his tone warms me.
When we click off, I feel better than before.
Sarah: Between you and me, I wish she’d picked you for the deal.
Brooke: You’re sweet.
Sarah: If it helps, I don’t think Caroline’s engagement swayed her. Elise never liked Kevin. I remember hearing rumors about him being involved in some shady stuff. Nothing concrete, but whispers. I never knew what to believe.
Despite his apology, which seemed sincere, I’m curious.
I should let it go, thank her for the support and get back to work.
What I say instead is:
Do you remember any specific incidents?
It’s none of my business. She has every right to tell me that, and if I were smart, I’d say it to myself too.
I’m about to sign off when dots appear.
Sarah: He was involved in this top-secret cheating ring back in law school.
I blink at my phone. That’s not what I was expecting.
Not at all.