21. Miles
It’s strange how waking up with another person feels so…
Personal.
The light shafting through the window behind me dances across her parted lips.
You notice details you never thought you would. Like how soft her skin is—softer than the silk pillowcase under her head—where my thumbs brush her sides under her sleep shirt.
At some point, my leg got threaded between hers, or she wound hers around mine.
Her dark lashes twitch against her cheeks as she dreams.
Her full lips part.
I want to lean in, slide my tongue between them like I would’ve done if we’d had ten more seconds in the closet before getting busted.
Last night was about comfort.I wanted to be there for her when she was going through a shitty time.
This morning, our bodies twined together under the sheets, the scent of her filling my nostrils…
Nothing about this is comforting.
I study her face, taking in every detail: the curve of her nose, the arch of her eyebrows, the way her hair falls across her forehead.
The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets as we shift. When she sighs, a little puff of contentedness, my hand itches. The only way to relieve it is to move, tracing the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her hip.
I hear a sound from outside, a door slamming.
Her body shifts slightly, but her breathing remains even, and her grip on me only tightens.
Now she”s pressing herself against my thigh as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I’m already hard, because hello, morning. But even if I wasn’t, I would be from her closeness, from the way she smells.
My body throbs with the insistence that I have to have her.
I know that I could. Right now, she wouldn’t refuse me.
I could coax her into her back, tease her awake with my lips on her throat, the curve of her breast. Slide my hand between her soft thighs, playing, until she’s arching against me.
Tease her until she’s begging me to sink inside her the way we’ve both been pretending we don’t need.
But last night, she was hurting and vulnerable. I don’t want to take advantage of her.
Plus, I’d be abusing Jay’s trust in a way there’s no coming back from.
Everything up to last night, including the closet groping, is defensible, at least in part. Ends justify the means and all that.
I can’t think of what I’d say to him if I did the things to his sister that I want to right now.
In the end, it’s the guilt that makes me ease out of bed, careful not to wake her.
In the shower, I dunk my head under the stream of hot water and wait for my muscles to ease.
My eyes squeeze shut, and suddenly I’m picturing her skin, her lips, the feel of her.
My cock is somehow harder than it was a second ago.
The knot in my shoulders refuses to budge.
I wrap my fingers around my length and grip tight.
I need to get through today. To be there for her. To protect her the way I promised Jay I would.
To do that, I have to get rid of this feeling.
I stroke my length and hiss between my tight jaw. I can’t even say it feels good. It feels necessary, as though there’s no way I can breathe or talk or walk without relieving the ache that comes from being around her.
My knuckles turn white against the tile. My ass clenches as I fuck my own hand, wishing it was the girl in the other room.
I want those dark eyes on mine, glazed with desire as she falls over the edge with my name on her lips, forgetting every asshole she’s ever met.
My come blends with the water, slipping down the drain and leaving no trace of my guilt.
When I get out, she”s still asleep. I get dressed and leave a note by the door in case she wakes up while I’m out. I go for a walk to the dining room.
On the way, I check my phone.
There’s a message from the team with an update about practice tomorrow. A note from my dog sitter with a video of Waffles in which he’s being asked to say ‘hi to Daddy.’ Waffles, for his part, munches happily on a treat like he doesn’t care if I’m alive or dead.
I send a text to Grams to check in. There’s no immediate response, but that’s not strange.
In the dining room, there”s coffee and breakfast. A range of mostly unfamiliar faces. A few people wave to me and make small talk—the risk of being something of a celebrity.
“Miles.” Brooke’s friend from last night smiles in greeting and gestures me over.
“Hey, Ruby. Looks like you’ve been up a minute.” I nod to her lap, the stack of papers and notes there, and her phone sitting on top.
“No rest for an ER doc. Brooke still asleep?” she asks, a half smile on her face.
I nod.
“What she did last night was brave. Rocking the boat is dangerous.”
“I’ve always liked that about her.”
“Me too.” Ruby tilts her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “She needs someone in her corner. You up for the challenge, Mr. NBA Champion?”
The answer hits me without hesitation.
Yeah, I am.
An idea comes together. How I can be there for Brooke today, show her how amazing she is.
Ruby’s phone jumps in her lap. “Shit.”
“You need another hand. Can I get you a coffee?”
“With cream. Thanks.” She smiles and hits Answer. “Dr. Robinson.”
After getting Ruby’s coffee, I’m packing up breakfast to go, plus coffees for Brooke and me, when I run into a familiar face.
”What are you doing here?” Kevin demands.
I straighten as I finish pouring the first coffee. “Thought we went over this last night. I’m here with Brooke.” I reach for the second cup.
He shakes his head.“You were always too close. Why were you hanging around a college campus when you got drafted?”
“New team didn’t have the Doritos flavors they did in the dining hall on campus.”
“Right. That’s what kept you coming back.”
My molars grind softly. There are at least a dozen people around. Be smart, a voice says in my head. Jay’s voice.
I finish getting our coffees from the drip machine. Been gone a day and I miss the hell out of my espresso.
“My face healed better than ever, thanks for asking.”
I turn to find Kevin goading me from the other side of the breakfast area. A few people look over and I ignore them.
I stack the coffees in one hand and cross to him.
“Kevin. My dude.” I flash teeth as I clap a friendly-looking hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to stay far away from Brooke. Here. Back in Denver.” The way we’re standing, it probably looks as if I’m confiding the latest basketball gossip, or reminding him of an inside joke. “You don’t get a second of her time and attention. If I’d been around back when she decided to let you be her sorry ass excuse for a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have gotten it then, either. You understand?”
I have the satisfaction of watching his eyes widen before he can control his reaction.
”It”s not college anymore, and you can”t touch me,” he calls after me as I head for the door, careful not to crush the coffee cup in my fist.