Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
MILES
The ice feels different beneath my skates today. Sharper. Brighter. Like it knows something about me has shifted.
Hell, everything in my life feels different.
There will always be a clear line drawn in my life…
before being snowed in with Miranda and after.
After the two days we had, I’m changed in ways I can’t undo.
Now that I know what it feels like to be with her—to touch her, to taste her, to love her—there’s no going back to the version of myself who didn’t know those things. Who didn’t know her this way.
I’ve always known we had insane chemistry.
Anyone with eyes could see it. But I didn’t realize that being with her, actually being with her, would rearrange something fundamental inside me.
I’ve had my fair share of relationships, flings, hookups…
and none of them compare. Being with her isn’t just different.
It’s right. Like the missing piece I didn’t know to look for has finally slid into place.
There’s still something she’s hiding from me.
I can feel it, a shadow at the edges, a bruise she protects.
But I’m not worried. I’ll wait. I’ll be patient.
She’s kept it locked away for years, probably for good reason, and I’m not entitled to it just because we’re together now.
I just hope that the more she relaxes into us, the more she’ll start to believe she can trust me with the parts she’s scared to show.
Every now and then this weekend, I saw her eyes shift, just for a heartbeat, with panic, doubt, and fear. Emotions she tried to blink away before I could catch them. But she always came back. She always refocused on me, let me pull her close again, let herself feel safe again.
And God, I’m proud of her for that. For choosing me. For choosing this. For fighting through whatever storm lives inside her just to stay in my arms.
It means she wants this as much as I do. She sees it—sees us as clearly as I do.
“Keller!” Coach’s voice slices across the ice, shattering the last remnants of the beautiful thoughts I’d been drifting through, memories of the past two days with Miranda.
I snap my gaze up as he barrels toward me, eyes sharp. “What’s your problem this morning?” he barks. “Two days off and you’re skating like you got your head stuck up your ass. Get your shit together.”
“Sorry, Coach,” I call back, breath puffing in the cold air. “I’m on it. Won’t happen again.”
And the thing is… he’s right. My head hasn’t been in this practice at all.
I’ve been going through the motions, the jumps, cuts, and stops.
But my mind has been nowhere near the ice.
It’s been on her. On the way she looked curled beneath all those blankets.
On how she whispered my name. On everything that happened in that snowed-in world of ours.
I need to focus. This is my job, one that I get paid good money to do. This is what I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough to lace up skates. I need to lock in and act like it.
I suck in a breath and force my brain back into my body, refocusing on the next drill. “Let’s go,” I mutter to myself.
For the rest of this practice, however long Coach keeps us, I need to be here. Present. Strong. Fast.
Miranda will be there when I’m done. Hell, she’s probably still wrapped in blankets, waiting for me to come home and kiss her senseless. But right now? I have to dial in.
God knows, if I want any chance at being in the lineup next game, looking up into that VIP box to see my beautiful girl wearing my jersey, I need to perform. Right now. I need to earn it and make her proud.
I pull my clean shirt over my freshly showered body, still warm from the steam. As I tug the hem down, Jaden nudges me on his way past.
“Sucking it up in practice today, huh?” he says with a grin. “Doesn’t have anything to do with a certain strawberry blonde, does it?”
I narrow my gaze at him, but he just laughs.
“Don’t worry, man. I’ve totally been there. I was a complete wreck last October—I couldn’t think about anything but Anna. Being lovesick is the worst.”
“I’m not lovesick,” I fire back.
“There’s nothing wrong with being lovesick,” he says easily.
“Yeah,” Finn chimes in from his locker. “I’m lovesick every single weekend.”
Logan shoves Finn’s arm. “That’s not love, asshole. That’s lust.”
I rub a towel through my hair and look back at Jaden. “So I’m guessing you know.”
“Oh, we know,” he says, grinning with a smug sort of triumph. “Miranda texted Anna last night. Anna showed me. We’re both super excited, man. I mean, we saw it coming… but it’s about time.”
“Wait,” Cade says as he laces up his shoes. “Are we talking about what I think we’re talking about? Did Hollywood and Miranda finally get together?”
I roll my eyes. “Ha-ha. Very funny. These things take time.”
Beckett calls over his shoulder, “Yeah, just glad you could finally seal the deal. Watching that sexual tension between you two was becoming a bit uncomfortable.”
“It was not,” I scoff. “You’re all ridiculous.”
“We’re just happy for you,” Bash says, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder.
I take a breath, glancing around at all of them. “It’s new,” I warn. “So let’s all just take a step back. Don’t do anything to freak her out. It’s only been two days. I don’t want to jinx anything.”
Jaden gives me a confident smile. “Don’t worry. You two have it. You’ll be good.”
I nod, hoping like hell he’s right.
I finish getting dressed, sliding my phone and wallet into my pockets, my mind on Miranda and getting back to her.
It’s ridiculous, bordering on pathetic, how fast I want to get home.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head toward the garage exit with the guys trailing me. Everyone’s still chirping, giving me shit in that affectionate, brotherly way they always do. I throw a half-hearted glare over my shoulder.
“Seriously,” I say, pushing through the door, “don’t make a big deal about it.”
“Us?” Logan says with fake innocence. “We would never.”
“Liars,” I mutter.
They laugh, and I shake my head, but truthfully? Their excitement kind of means something. These guys are my family. And them seeing what Miranda and I have—believing in it—lightens something in my chest I didn’t know I’d been carrying.
Outside, the cold hits me like a slap, sharp and bright. The storm’s finally stopped, but the world is still blanketed in white. The parking lot is a sea of plowed snowbanks and glittering ice. My breath fogs the air as I walk toward my truck.
I climb in, fire up the engine, and pull my phone from my pocket.
One message from Miranda.
How did practice go? Is it pathetic that I miss you already?
I smile like an idiot. I’m fully aware of it.
Rough start. Coach yelled. Might’ve been thinking about a certain girl instead of skating because I miss you more.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.
Hmmm. I might like that a lot.
My chest tightens in the best way.
Not if you actually want to see me play.
I guess that’s true.
I’m on my way home.
Can’t wait.
I'm considering adding another text, maybe something flirty or even explicit. But I leave it. Choosing to show her exactly how I feel when I get home.
The drive home is short, but somehow feels slower than usual.
My mind keeps replaying the past two days in flashes—her smile in the candlelight, her body beneath mine, her quiet confessions, the way she trembled when she let me see all of her.
It’s dizzying how much I already miss her even though I saw her a few hours ago.
I pull into the driveway and kill the engine. The house looks normal again, warm light glowing from the living room windows now that the power’s back. For a second, I just sit there, gripping the steering wheel, letting the weight of everything settle.
This weekend wasn’t just sex. It was the start of something. I suppose I always hoped it would happen with Miranda, but now that it has, I’m unbelievably excited.
I walk inside, the warmth hitting my skin instantly. The place smells like a combination of dozens of lingering candle scents.
Miranda stands in the kitchen, hair twisted on top of her head, wearing leggings and my sweatshirt—again—which is quickly becoming one of my favorite sights on earth. She’s pouring hot water into a mug and humming to herself.
She turns, and her whole face lights up.
“Hi,” she says softly, like the word itself is a secret.
“Hi,” I echo, closing the distance between us in a few long strides.
She hands me a steaming cup. “I made tea.”
“You made tea?” I ask, quirking a brow.
She laughs. “Well, it was one of the things we picked up on our improvised supermarket sweep game. I thought we should drink it. It’s a raspberry.”
“Raspberry tea?”
“I guess,” she says with a slight shrug. “You want to know something? All tea tastes pretty much the same to me. Isn’t that strange?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not much of a tea drinker.” I take a small sip. “It tastes like tea.”
“Exactly.”
“Thank you.” I set the cup on the counter and pull her into my arms, breathing her in. She fits against me perfectly. I kiss the top of her head, letting myself linger longer than I should.
“Everything good?” I ask quietly.
She nods into my chest. “Better now.”
I hold her a little tighter.
We stand there, wrapped up in each other, swaying slightly to a beat of our own. The world outside may be thawing from a storm, but inside this house, something else is warming, blooming, settling into place. It feels right.
After a long moment, she tilts her head back to look up at me. “So… how was practice. Did we come up?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I’d say we did.”
“What does that mean?” She grins.
I shrug. “Jaden knew. So did everyone else.”
“Just like we figured.”
“Yep.”
“They’re all happy and supportive, of course. Lots of finallys, but we knew we’d get that.”
She laughs. “Perfect.”
I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear and let my thumb trace her jawline.
“I’m really glad you’re mine,” I murmur.
Her breath catches, her cheeks flushing. “I’m really glad you’re mine, too.”
I kiss her slowly and sweetly, and the realization hits me hard—whatever I replayed in my head on the ice today, as good as those memories were, nothing holds a candle to the real thing.