20. Stella
Chapter 20
Stella
R olling over in bed, Miles’ arms still wrapped around me, I open my eyes hoping it’s morning time. Unfortunately for me, all I see is darkness, and with how awake I’m feeling right now, I can only hope it’s at least after five…pleeease.
Silently saying a prayer, I look out the bedroom window and see pure darkness before grabbing my phone and turning it on, my eyes blinded by the clock shining back.
Three. Ugh, of course it is.
Factoring the tie difference from New York, I’m up just as early as usual.
Scrolling through my phone, I thumb through my missed calls and text messages, most from the group chat with my brother and Sawyer.
Whoops.
Ignoring the six missed calls from my brother and Sawyer combined, I jump straight into the texts.
Rex
Stell! Answer your phone!
Stella, out of all times, this is when I’d like you to remember how to use your phone.
Sawyer
Stella, if you don’t answer your phone, your brother might actually send out search and rescue.
I mean, I know you’re not missing, but Rex knows people, who know people.
Just answer. Make our lives forever easier.
See what I did there?
Rex
See what she did there, sis? You’d know about it if you’d ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
Whoops. Looks like that proposal might’ve finally happened, but after Miles and I came back from the lake, we immediately ended up warming up in the shower, then proceeded to get lectured by his grandpa on how we need to listen to our elders because he’d been telling everyone it was going to rain for days.
Between that and then dinner and playing cards with his family, by the time we made it back to bed, we were more focused on spending time together. I was planning on crashing on the couch. I didn’t want it to be weird, and Miles and I really haven’t had many conversations on what we are going to say to anyone.
He must’ve said something, though, because all my things ended up in his room and his parents shooed us off together. They know something is up.
“What are you doing awake?” Miles whispers, pulling me back against him before I could slip out of bed.
“Hey now!” I squeal.
“Shh, you’ll wake everyone up,” he mumbles against my hair. “Can’t you just keep snuggling?”
“I would…but it’s later than I’m usually up and my body knows that means it’s baking time. I’ve been trying to fight it these last few nights, but this morning…I need it. I must’ve dreamed something up because I woke and all I can think about is the new location. Besides, I want to bake something for your family. They let me stay without a single question, so it’s the least I can do,” I say with a smile, although the yawn hits quickly. “First thing’s first though—I need coffee.”
I may be wide awake at this time every day, but that doesn't mean I don't still need caffeine to fuel me.
“That's fair. I guess I can let you go…but only this once.” He groans, releasing me from his arms to slip out, but not without pulling me in for a quick kiss first—too quick if you ask me. “Do you know where the coffee is?”
“Yes, but will it have the liquid gold already made?”
“Not exactly. But my parents get it ready every night before they go to sleep so all you have to do is turn it on.”
“Thanks. Are you sure they won't care?”
He looks at me surprised, before laughing, the moonlight shining in through the window and hitting him just right, illuminating his smile and bright eyes. He looks younger than the nearly twenty-nine-year-old he is, but in a good way, a boyishly handsome way that makes me second guess leaving this room.
He looks…happy. And sexy as fuck.
“Not at all. They’ll make more if we run out. We go through a lot of coffee in the Henderson household.”
“Fine…I’m going to get started on that. You should check your phone; there’s a good chance you were blown up last night too.”
“I don’t remember being blown up last night…although, I do recall being blown,” he says with a smirk, and I grab the nearest pillow and smack him in the face.
“Brat,” I say before heading to the door.
“I’ll meet you out there in a minute. Let me check these texts and then brush my teeth. I’ll meet you in the kitchen after that,” Miles says as he stretches out in bed looking like a meal in and of itself.
But I can eat later. First, I need coffee.
Thankfully, the kitchen is pretty easy to navigate without much help, so by the time Miles is even stumbling into the room, I’ve already made coffee and started dough for a batch of cinnamon rolls. Now I’m collecting the ingredients for a batch of chocolate chip scones. I wasn’t exactly sure which route to go for breakfast for his parents since I’ve really only had one meal with them, but I figured these two things were usually pretty safe bets for a wide variety of people—at least they’re best-sellers back at the bakery in New York.
That’s another thing I need to consider when I do the menu…the things that may be best sellers back home might not sell the same here in Nashville. It’s a balance. One that I’m going to need to research and ask Kenzie—she would have an idea.
“Jesus, Stell, you don’t play around in the kitchen, do ya?” Miles says as he walks in yawning, surprisingly wearing a shirt this time.
“I mean…I do sometimes,” I joke, watching as he moves comfortably around the kitchen, grabbing his coffee before taking a seat at the table, a puzzle laid out and already waiting for him.
“Well, you won’t hear me complaining… unless you don’t share. Then I’ll complain a whole lot.”
“Fair. I’ve still got some work to do over here to get the food ready, but once it is, I promise I’ll share.”
Moving back to getting everything prepared for the scones, I locate the chocolate chips in the pantry as well as more flour, then I move to the fridge for the butter. Scones are my favorite, but man they take some work. As I start working everything together, my mind starts racing.
What will all of this be like when we get back home? Are we still going to be doing this—whatever the hell this is? When we’re back in New York, will we go back to being just friends? Can we even be friends after everything that’s happened between us?
Do I want to be just his friend? Yeah, that’s a hard no from me, but then again, I’ve never been the problem when it comes to him and me.
Fuck…what does this mean for my place to stay? I knew I was going to have to figure something out for long term, but it was kind of nice not having to stress out about it. Plus, if I’m being honest, it’s been nice spending more time with Miles, getting to know another side of him beyond the playboy flirt I’ve been used to seeing.
Not that I don’t love that side…but damn, I love his more sensitive, playful side, too, and I’m not sure I want to give that up just yet.
“So…I was wondering,” I say nervously, my eyes down on the ingredients I’m working with but also with which I’m not actually doing anything productive, just staring as I try to ask this question without sounding like I’m incapable of public speaking. “When we get back home…am I going back to the hotel…or…?”
I wait anxiously, slowly looking up at Miles who’s leaning back in his seat, a coffee cup in one hand, the smirk on his face telling me he’s enjoying watching me struggle far more than he should be.
Jackass.
“No, Stell, you’re not going back to a hotel. When we go back to New York, we can figure out what the next steps are.”
He doesn’t outright say that he wants me to stay, but he also doesn’t say that he doesn’t, and he’s very adamant about helping me. It may not exactly be an answer, but at least I know I’m not figuring this out alone. I’ve got enough to deal with between my brother and Sawyer getting engaged, and then having not only to tell my family about the new bakery, but I also sort of need to tell them that I’ve been fucking my brother’s best friend, and I just might be in love with him…
The problem is, if this is just a fling, and he’s just riding it out and helping see everything through with my apartment out of duty to my brother, I don’t exactly want to make a declaration of love and look like an absolute idiot.
“So…what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that as soon as we get home, we’ll go back to my place and figure out what our plan will be—especially how we’re going to deal with that pain-in-the-ass best friend of mine.”
“Have you thought about that? About what we can do?”
“No, because every idea I come up with ends with me losing my friend and over half of the plans end with me getting punched. So as of right now, I don’t exactly have any real contenders.”
My stomach drops because it hits me all at once: there's a chance we don't figure this out. A good chance we wuss out and don't face my brother. Well, a chance he doesn't.
As much as I would have no problem going to my brother and having the conversation, I shouldn't have to. I want someone to find the risk worth the reward when it comes to choosing me. I want someone to fight for me, remind me I'm worth it.
Is it too much for me to hope for that man to be Miles? He checks all my other boxes, even the ones that no one else has accomplished before.
Hot hockey guy. Check.
Watching that man on the ice or taking his helmet off and letting his hair loose—yeah that should be illegal…at least for other women to see.
Funny—the kind that makes you belly laugh. Check.
A man who actually talks to me and listens. Check.
Incredible in bed, with some dominant traits thrown in for added seasoning. Check.
Miles has this one in spades. Now we're just down to the point of figuring out if he's willing to stand up for me. If I'm important enough, if the reward is worth that risk.
That's when I'll know if he's just amazing or if he's damn near fucking perfect.
I sit there thinking about this the entire time I get the cinnamon rolls together, putting them in the oven before moving on to get everything ready for the scones. We talk, and in between steps, I help with the puzzle, but I keep thinking about what the future holds and the scary question of if I’m worth it for him to choose me—to fight for me.
“Good morning, you two,” a sleepy voice says from down the hall. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson walk toward us, both looking far more awake than I'd expect for five in the morning.
“Morning,” Miles says, standing up to give them both a hug. “You still haven’t stopped waking up before sunrise?”
“Of course not. Do you think your father is going to change a habit he’s had for thirty years?” his mom, Holly, says. His dad just scoffs and grabs two coffee cups, filling them before passing one to his wife.
I can’t help but laugh at how much these two remind me of my own parents. Constantly giving each other shit, but you can tell that they love each other so much, it’s almost like it’s their own love language they share together. And that comforting feeling? It spreads to everyone around them, and it’s probably what makes me so comfortable in their house after I just met them.
“What’re you two doing up so early?” Marcus, Miles’ dad, asks as he sits down next to Miles and starts helping him with the puzzle.
“I own a bakery back in New York, so I’ve sort of just gotten used to getting up early to start making everything fresh for the day. Between the pastries and other baked goods I make, I’m usually up at about two thirty,” I say as I start cutting butter into my flour mixture for the scones while his mom takes a seat at the bar next to me with a warm smile.
I see where Miles gets his warm demeanor. They’re all so comforting, but there’s something about talking to his mom that just gets easier and easier each time, like I’ve known her my entire life.
“How long have you had your bakery?” Holly asks.
“I’ve worked there for almost eight years. The owner took me on as his baker after a bunch of interviews, and from there it was about two years until he decided to sell. He offered it to me first, and I would’ve been an idiot to turn him down. I’ve owned it ever since.”
“That’s incredible. I can’t wait to try what you’re making. Miles has always raved about your baking,” she says with a wink—a wink that tells me she knows more than I thought she did about our history.
“Is that so?” I say with a smirk, glancing over at Miles and his dad, who are lost in conversation, not even making eye contact as they gaze down at the puzzle pieces that somehow come together to show part of the Grand Canyon.
“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your homemade cinnamon rolls, pop-tarts, and chocolate chip cookies that he said you used to have delivered for the team on game days. He was so bummed when Rex left the team and that stopped. He said those chocolate chip cookies always gave him the fuel he needed for game days.”
“Maybe I’ll have to start that up again,” I say, adding chocolate chips into the dough before cutting the scones to shape. Wiping my hands off, I look back up at his mom, who’s watching me. “But why do I feel like there’s more to this story?”
“Oh, because I’m filled with information, but there’s not enough time on this trip to spill all the beans. Although, if I take a guess, I’m thinking this isn’t the only trip you two will be taking to visit us, so I’m sure we’ll have time.”
Raising my eyebrows, I just stare at her, but I can feel my cheeks heating.
“Don’t act like I was born yesterday. I know my son, and I know how he’s felt about you for years.”
I must look shocked because she backpedals.
“Not that you two have really had all these conversations already. I mean, I just know the past. Plus, if we’re being honest, anyone with two eyes, including my father with his terrible eye sight, can see the way you two look at each other.”
“Hey now, why are you bringing me into this nonsense?” his grandpa says as he walks into the kitchen and takes a seat next to Holly. “But if you’re talking about these two,” he says, gesturing toward me and Miles, “I could be blind and I’d still see it.”
“I guess we’ll see. We’re just friends. Besides, there’s the issue of my brother.”
“My grandson is not an idiot. He wouldn’t let a friend, or a brother, get in the way. He wasn’t raised to be that way. No, he’s been raised to fight for things that are worth it,” he grumbles as Holly gets up and grabs him a cup of coffee.
“Oh, Dad, chill. Let them figure it out. But you’re right—Miles is smart,” she says, looking at me with a wink.
“He is,” I say with a smile as I pop the scones in the oven. “But only time will tell. That being said, I’m opening a bakery in Nashville, so we can always share all the stories when I’m back to visit.”
“Promise?” Holly says. “I wish you guys didn’t have to leave so soon. What time will you be heading to the airport?”
“We still have a couple hours. I think we were going to have breakfast and then head out. Miles wanted to make sure to have time to drop off the rental car.”
“Sounds just like my boy,” Holly says as she looks back at Miles and his dad. “Well, we will miss you guys.”
“We will miss you guys too. It’s been fun to visit.”
“Even with the sudden rainstorm that you both chose to ignore me about?” his grandpa says, and I laugh as Miles stands up from the table, moving to come stand by me, close enough that I can feel the heat from his arm, but not exactly touching.
It’s enough to make me want to smile with excitement. Internally, I’m squealing, kicking my feet with excitement that he is almost touching me in front of his family.
“WHO WOULD EXPECT RAIN WITH brIGHT BLUE SKIES OUT?” Miles says loudly when his grandpa finally stops talking about how no one listens to him.
“The old man with arthritis that can feel it days before it happens,” his grandpa grumbles, and I smile, looking back at the oven then at Miles.
“Well, the weather is a silly thing around here, and it doesn’t always turn out the way the weather people predict, so what do you expect?” Miles laughs.
“I’m not a silly weather man,” Grandpa says back, and we all laugh.
I take a peek at the clock on the wall, then glance at Miles. “I’m going to pack up some stuff while the scones cook.”
“I can come help,” Miles says.
Turning back to everyone else I say, “The cinnamon rolls are all ready; they just need frosting added. Measure from the heart though—I made enough frosting for about six batches.”
“And there better be some when we are done. I need sustenance before a flight,” Miles says, giving his mom a kiss on the cheek before leading the way.
I could get used to this, spending time in a home that’s immediately comforting, people who make it so easy to feel wanted and cared for, and a man who makes me feel like I’ve found my best friend.
I don’t want to go home.