6. Miles
Chapter 6
Miles
I can tell the moment we finish cleaning up the kitchen that she’s looking for an escape, doing what Stella does best—attempting to make herself smaller, as if she doesn’t want to be a burden to others. I’ve seen it more and more the longer I’ve known their family, and now it’s hard not to notice.
I don’t want her to, though. Not here, not with me. She doesn’t need to hide away because if I’m being honest, I fucking love spending time with the girl, even if I know damn well I shouldn’t. Stella is forbidden. She has been from day one—well, after I kissed her first—and then I found out she was off-limits.
My bad.
But I’m starting to think I don’t care as much as I used to. We can just be friends. That doesn’t break any of his rules. Although, I’m not exactly eager to find out what Rex would say if he found out she was living with me. I don’t think he’d be too thrilled about it.
Grabbing my cup, I look over at Stella as she makes her way toward the hallway and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m not sure what you’re doing…but I was going to watch a movie if you want to join.”
She freezes, almost like an animal trying to make itself invisible after realizing it’s been noticed, pretending it doesn’t exist. But I can see the wheels turning as she processes it before finally turning toward me and nodding.
Internally fist-pumping, I gesture for her to lead the way to the living room before she can change her mind. I understand why she’d be hesitant. This is new for both of us, and given our complicated history, I get it.
If you can even count one kiss as history. But I guess the fact that we’ve never talked about it makes things feel a little awkward. Which, yeah, is my fault. The day Rex introduced me to Stella at our first game, I pretended like I hadn’t met her before.
Walking out of the locker room after our first home game—my first time on the ice as a Cyclone—is exhilarating, a vibe the other guys seem to share as Rex, Harris and I chat about the game. I look around, seeing my parents at the other end of the room where friends and family wait and I see the pride on their face.
Fuck yeah!
But before I can make my way over to them, Rex stops me.
“Hey man, I want to introduce you to my family,” he says with a smile, but my stomach drops.
Family? Sister?
“Oh, I’ve gotta ? —”
“It’ll be quick; I promise,” Rex says as he starts walking over to his family.
I stare at the ground the entire walk over, but the moment I look up, it’s her I see. I try to look away quickly, smiling and shaking hands with his parents as he introduces us.
“It’s so nice to meet you both,” I tell them, ignoring her eyes searing into my skin.
“This is Stella,” Rex finally says as he pulls her into a hug. “This is my sister.”
I swallow, knowing I need to keep it together…but the second I reach out for her hand and introduce myself, I see the pain in her eyes.
I wish I wasn’t so afraid to fuck up friendships. I wish I could tell him right now that we met and that she’s cool as shit—but I’m too afraid of needing to start over…of needing to make new friends again. I’m not willing to risk it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miles,” she says quietly, the pain thick in her voice, leaving me feeling like I just really fucked up.
I can still remember the hurt look in her eyes, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. From that moment on, she was completely cordial with me, but nothing more—and it sucks. I’ve wanted to apologize, to explain why I acted the way I did, but it feels like it happened so long ago that bringing it up now would just seem silly.
“Got an idea for what we should watch?” I ask as she rounds the couch. It’s a little chilly in here, so I’m surprised she hasn’t grabbed a sweatshirt or something. But I don’t mind; it gives me more to admire.
“No, I’m really up for anything. This week has been a lot mentally, so I’m exhausted and could use an escape. What do you want to watch?” she asks, taking a seat on the sofa—just a little farther away than necessary, practically needing her own couch. It only proves that things are weird between us. But I know the best way to fix it.
“What would you say if I said we should watch a horror movie? It’s been a while since I’ve had a good scare, and tonight seems like the perfect night.”
She looks hesitant, her hands fidgeting before she finally sits on them. “Sure. But if I wake you up with my screaming, you can’t be mad at me.”
“Trouble, if I woke up to the sound of your screams, I’d either be worried or turned on, but never mad.”
She blushes, her cheeks and chest both turning bright red, and I can’t help but smile.
“You know what I mean, asshole,” she pouts, crossing her arms and attempting to look annoyed. But the smirk and the scarlet flush on her face make it impossible to take her seriously.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” I poke, before turning back to the TV and searching for a movie.
“Oh, stop. Just pick a movie and get on with it.”
“Whatever you say.” I smirk. “Pick between Scream, Halloween, and hmm… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre .”
“Jesus, you’re not pulling any punches with my emotions tonight, are you?” she says, dramatically tapping her finger on her bottom lip. It’s distracting. “Let’s pick Halloween . I never liked the name Michael, so I’m down to watch one get fucked up.”
“Good choice.”
Pushing play, I stretch out on the couch, kicking myself for not getting fully dressed after my work out, but I was instantly hit with the smell of pasta sauce the second I stepped off the elevator.
It smelled orgasmic—and it tasted even better. Walking into the apartment to the warm smell of a home-cooked meal was wonderful. There was enough garlic to terrify a vampire, but it made me fucking ecstatic. The scent was so intoxicating that I felt like I was on autopilot as I made my way through the apartment, all the way to the kitchen, where I found Stella standing in a pair of shorts and a tank top, looking cute as hell with a determined look on her face as she carefully cut strawberries, giving them way more attention than you’d think necessary.
That, and the fact that Trevor took us on a grueling run, fucking gallivanting around the city after a heavy lift as a “cool-down”.
Motherfucker, a cool-down is a mile…maybe two. He had us doing a damn 10k.
No thank you, sir. I’m quick and don’t mind a little cardio, but only if I’m wearing skates and on the ice. Plus, Trevor’s acting like these aren’t the last couple of weeks before the season kicks off, when our workouts can be a little more fun. Not easy, just…we get to decide, not our coach. But I guess that’s what I get for becoming best friends with the “team dad”. He’s the first to pump us up, but also the first to make us cry from bag skating or a rough workout if we’ve played poorly.
It's a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t change having him as my best friend for anything. Trevor and the rest of the guys, they’re my family, so I guess that’s why I accept the grueling workouts.
All I’m saying is I should’ve put on a damn shirt while I had the chance.
Leaning over, I grab the big blanket from the back of my couch and toss it across my legs that are resting on the ottoman. Then, I reach for the other remote, one of the cool ones that controls everything in this apartment, and dim the lights before turning the fireplace on for ambience. It’s a movie—it’s required.
As I finally settle back in and the movie continues, I can’t help but watch Stella out of the corner of my eye. She looks scared. A couple of times, when my gaze drifts her way, I see her jump, and I even catch her trying to muffle a little scream.
Lifting the blanket, I pat the spot next to me. “Come join me. It’s cold, and you're jumpy.”
She looks me up and down, and I feel a rush of pride when her gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on my abs, but I don't comment.
“I don't bite…usually,” I say with a wink, waving her over again.
She hesitates, as if she's about to say no, so I'm surprised when she finally stands up and sits next to me, pulling the blanket over her lap as well.
“You have to prop your feet up so Michael can't grab you,” I joke, leaning back on the couch. I keep some distance between us so she doesn't think I'm trying anything, though I'm not sure how true that is anymore.
“You’re a brat,” she says, a little smirk on her lips.
“Eh, I’m more of a dick. You on the other hand? I think you just might fall into the brat category.”
“Fuck off, Henderson,” Stella jokes, fully smiling now as she faces the screen, pretending to be intently focused on Michael escaping the sanitarium. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she flinches when she gets scared, covering her face and watching between her fingers. She’s been doing her best to avoid looking at me, but the little smirk tells me she’s caught me glancing her way.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while before my need to talk takes over. I turn back to her, nudge her gently, and whisper as the movie plays, “So, are you excited to go to Nashville? I know it’s not exactly a vacation, but are you looking forward to seeing the city?”
“I mean, yeah, I’m excited—” she says quietly, her nose scrunching as she looks at me, confused. “Why the hell are we whispering?”
“Because we’re watching a movie. Don’t you always whisper when you’re in the movie theater?” I say with a playful shrug.
“You’re absolutely ridiculous, Miles,” she sasses, her voice still hushed, and I can’t help but shake my head, amused by how adorable she is.
“Oh well, you’re still whispering,” I tell her with a smirk. “But instead of being a brat, you could just answer the question.”
Rolling her eyes, she says, “I’ve always loved Nashville, so that part will be fun. I’ve never been there during the summer before, which will be nice to see.”
“You’ve been there? How did I not know that?”
She shakes her head with a huff, then says, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Miles. The cities I’ve enjoyed might be interesting, but they’re definitely not conversation-worthy with someone you don’t see all that often.”
Another tally for Stella in the brat column.
“Guess it’s a good thing that you’re staying with me, huh? Plenty of time for me to find out all these little facts and weird quirks.”
“What makes you think I have any weird quirks?”
“I’ve seen the way you eat a cupcake. That. Is. Weird.”
“It’s not weird. It’s efficient. And it keeps frosting from getting all over my face.”
“You’re destroying something you worked so hard to create by tearing it in half and making a little sandwich,” I say, my voice rising in exaggerated disbelief.
“You’re dramatic,” she laughs. “But about Nashville…I went there once in high school with my family when Rex was playing hockey. That’s when I fell in love with this bakery, Sterino’s . It was filled with light and had the comfiest chairs in the world. I remember sitting inside, the smell of chai and blueberry scones filled the room. It was mouthwatering. That trip was when I realized it was my dream job.”
“That’s awesome. I actually know the bakery you’re talking about. I didn’t realize when you first mentioned it because it’s been so long since I’ve been there, but it’s definitely a charming place, and those blueberry scones really are delicious.”
“It is. That’s what has me so nervous. What if this doesn’t work out? What if I lose my bakery here?”
“You won’t. Like I said, I’ll help you take care of it. You’re not going to have to deal with this alone. When did you say that you’re meeting with your realtor? I’ll go with you and help you get it sorted out.”
I watch her as she bites her cheek, her eyes welling up, and I wish I could take away her stress. I can see how overwhelming it is for her, so I’m just trying to take as much of the load as I can…when she lets me.
“Thanks, Miles,” she says quietly. “Will you tell me one of your favorite things about living in Tennessee? I’ll drill you for more once we’re there, but just one for now.”
I think for a moment, trying to pinpoint one specific thing that stands out as my favorite about back home. Living right outside Nashville was nice because we were close enough to the city to go there on a whim, but far enough out that there was this sort of peace. It’s always been special to me because of that. That’s when it hits me.
“There’s a lake on my parents’ property, and that’s probably my favorite place in the world. The water is always perfect, and after a long day of working out or playing hockey, it felt incredible to soothe my muscles with a good swim. But it’s not only that. There’s something about the place that makes you feel on top of the world, almost unstoppable. I’m not sure if it’s the lake itself or that my parents live there, but I always feel so hopeful after I spend time there.”
“Did you spend a lot of time there a couple of years ago when you guys had a rough season?” she asks with a smirk, clearly teasing.
“Watch the movie, brat,” I say, trying to keep my amusement in check. It’s one thing to think she’s funny. It’s another to let her know I do.
What is it about this girl? Even when she’s poking fun at me, she still makes me laugh. At this point, I can't even remember why I'm not going after her. She's fucking cool. And smart. And full of wit. What guy wouldn’t be interested in her?
Then, without warning, she screams, jerking her feet up onto the couch. Her body shifts so quickly that before I can even process it, she’s pressed up against me. The bare skin of her arm brushes mine, sending goosebumps racing down my arm.
I try not to draw attention to the fact that we're touching and focus back on the movie. I don't know how much time passes as we watch, but when the next jump-scare hits, I’m definitely not prepared to feel her tiny hand gripping my thigh. The blanket is forgotten to the floor as she turns her head, burying it into my shoulder like she’s trying to hide from what’s on the screen.
She stays still for a moment, frozen in place. Then, slowly, she lifts her head and looks down at where we're touching. It feels far less innocent than it should, especially in a dark room with neither of us wearing much clothing—and a lot of skin pressed together.
When her eyes meet mine, I hold my breath. I sense the panic, the fear in her, and I can’t tell if it’s from the movie or from the little situation we’ve found ourselves in. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. I can’t help it. I comfort her the only way I know how. Grabbing the blanket from the floor, I pull her into my side and draw it up around us.
She doesn't move at first, staying stiff as a board. Then, gradually, I feel her breathing return to normal and her body relax into mine—her hand never leaving its place on my thigh, which my dick hasn’t missed, given the semi I’m sporting at the thought that just an inch higher and she’d be able to grip my thick length.
Fuck. What am I doing? This doesn't need to be weird. We are friends. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Whose fucking idea was it to watch a fucking horror movie?” she groans, pulling the blanket over her eyes and lifting most of it from my lap. I don’t mind, though—she seems to need it more than I do right now. Her feet curl up under her, damn near in the fetal position, with her bare thighs resting on my stomach. She’s wrapped up like a pretzel, trying to protect herself by practically climbing into my lap.
“Mine.” I smirk. “Want me to turn it off?”
“No. At this point, I need to see if they kill that motherfucker. I’m sure you’d like some of your personal space back, though,” she says, looking us over before her eyes drop to her hand. I can tell the moment she notices my hard dick because her eyes widen, as if she’s just discovered a new world wonder.
Which, maybe she has.
She quickly turns her face away, but now that she’s seen it—now that she’s aware of what being this close to her is doing to my body—I don’t want her to look away. I want her focus on me. I’m greedy that way, and right now, I need all of her attention.
Gently wrapping my hand around her throat, I force her gaze back to mine. She stubbornly resists at first but eventually obliges. With a firm squeeze, I hold her in place. Her eyes widen before becoming hooded with desire as her lips part in a quick exhale that fades into a soft moan. And I'll be damned.
This girl likes a little light choking. She just might be fucking perfect , I think, as all the blood leaves my brain and rushes to my dick, who’s now driving this train. Seeing her like this, eyes filled with heat and aimed at me, brings me right back to that one night all those years ago when I was lost in her gaze.
Only back then, there was a lot less talking and a lot more kissing.
“Stop trying to look away from me, Stell. I can tell you’ve got something on your mind.”
“I—” she starts, swallowing roughly, a sensation I can feel as I hold her throat. One I wouldn’t mind feeling while my cock was shoved between those pretty lips. “I don’t know,” she whispers.
Looping my free arm around her waist, I pull her onto my lap, her hands landing on my shoulders as I hold her there. With a leg on each side of me, I guide her down until she’s sitting firmly in my lap, resting right on the boner her close proximity caused. Instinctively, she rolls her hips, her eyelids fluttering before she catches herself, her body stiffening above me.
I knew exactly what I was doing when I put on a scary movie. Rex had told us all plenty of times about how terrified he and his sister were of them.
“I think you do know; you just don’t want to say it out loud,” I say, my gaze dropping to her lips as I lick my own. “In fact, I think we both know exactly what you’re thinking.”
“And what’s that?” she whispers.
“Don’t play coy. Don’t act like you can’t feel the tension building.”
“But we’re friends.”
“And?”
“Friends…they—they aren’t supposed to think things like this. They aren’t supposed to feel things like that,” she says, pointing down to my lap where my erection responds to her gaze with a salute.
Smirking, I lean back and drop my hand from her throat to my cock, adjusting myself through my shorts. Our bodies are close enough that I can feel the heat from her—all while she stares, her eyes watching my every move.
“So, what are you saying?” I question, my hands now fully removed from her body. Nothing is keeping her in place—straddling me—except her own free will. “And for the love of God, don’t say you don’t know. You’ve already reached your quota of that line in this conversation—probably ever, for that matter. Don’t lie to me. The way your eyes flutter and nearly roll back when you adjust yourself in my lap? Yeah, that tells me you know exactly what you’re struggling with. Now, it’s up to you what you decide to do with it.”
“We—we can’t.”
“We can’t what?” I ask, annoyed, wanting to hear her say the words, explicitly .
“We can’t fuck.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I gasp. “Stella, who said anything about fucking?” I say, flashing a sly smile. She immediately pushes up as if she’s about to stand, but my hands move to her hips before she can, pulling her back down, hard.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To bed. If I wanted to be teased, I’d go back to college.”
“No teasing? But choking is okay?” I say, partially joking, mostly serious.
“Miles…”
“Answer the question, Stell.”
“Yes, I like it.”
“Say the full sentence now. I want to hear it.”
“Yes, I like to be choked.”
She’s right. We can’t fuck. Well, technically, we could …but we definitely shouldn’t. That would push even bigger boundaries than the ones we’ve already crossed. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself so I don’t feel like a complete shit friend.
If I go down that rabbit hole and start worrying about losing them again, I’ll probably spiral and end up calling Rex, admitting a bunch of shit—most of it just fantasies, not actual events, but I’d still spill it all.
Still…just because we can’t fuck doesn’t mean we can’t help each other out. This isn’t baseball; we don’t have to hit every base to score a home run.
“Good to know.”
“Why do you say that?” she asks, leaning back on her heels. The small adjustment slides her down my length, and I move on instinct at this point.
Sitting up on the couch, I move my hands from her hips up her sides. Her satiny skin is smooth and warm beneath my fingertips as they glide easily beneath her shirt.
“Because…just because ‘we can’t fuck’, as you so eloquently put it just a moment ago—” I pause, leaning forward to trace my nose up the column of her neck. She quivers beneath my touch, the air thick with anticipation. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”
“What are you saying?”
“Move your damn hips, Stella, the way you did just a moment ago when your eyes fluttered. You looked like a fucking angel,” I growl out, my fingertips pressing into her enough to leave marks. Her hands move to my chest, fingernails digging into my skin as she begins to ride me, slowly grinding her hot cunt against my length.
“Just like that, baby,” I groan, the pet name slipping through my filter, falling from my lips in pure ecstasy. I haven’t even touched her—at least, not where I desperately want to—and I won’t.
Yet, the only thing I can think about is what it would be like to sink my length inside her. The sounds she would make while I ate her out. And how long it would take for me to make her scream my name. It’s what makes this so hot—she may be fully clothed on top of me, but in my mind, she’s completely naked, her perfect tits bouncing as she rides my cock.
“Miles,” she moans, her voice soft as she slides back and forth.
Unable to help myself, I trace across the line of her collarbone with my tongue, slowly coming up the other side of her neck. Finding the sweet spot beneath her ear, I suck— immediately relishing the desperate moan that slips from her lips as she starts to lose her rhythm. Her movements becoming more erratic, especially as my lips move to hover over hers.
“You’re so fucking sexy like this,” I rasp, my hands moving to grip her ass tightly, fingertips digging in as I guide her body up and down on my dick. “I think you’re going to be my undoing, Stell.”