Chapter 19
Zoe
Miah had been unusually quiet ever since he’d entered my apartment. At first, I was concerned that all the colors and knick-knacks were overwhelming, but then he’d wandered over to my bookshelf and commented on how cute my ceramic bear statue was. The man had good taste, at least.
“Is everything okay?”
He jumped as if I’d spooked him. “Huh? Yeah. Um...”
He ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck, his large chest expanding further as he sucked in a deep breath. He looked more stressed than I’d ever seen him—and I’d seen the man pace anxiously during a Puffins game on several occasions.
“Miah.” I stepped forward and carefully reached for his hand.
He blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Sorry. Hi.”
I simply raised my brows, allowing him to open up to me when—or if—he felt ready to. He looked down at our hands as he took my other one and interlaced our fingers.
“Sorry, I’m very much out of practice. I haven’t had to ask this since I was a teenager, and it’s somehow just as stressful now as it was then.”
A spark of hope lit up in my chest, but I tried not to get too carried away. He could be asking me anything at all, but based on the context clues…
“Willyoubemygirlfriend?” The words rushed out of him in one fell swoop, and he cringed two seconds later. “That sounds so lame out loud.”
I bit my lip to keep my giggles in, but it was really hard not to find him and this situation so terribly endearing. Instead, I gave his hands a gentle squeeze and urged him to look at me.
“It’s not lame,” I promised. “And the answer is yes.”
He stared at me as if I’d spoken another language, my words not sinking in.
“Yes?”
Now I did laugh. A happy laugh that turned that spark inside of me into a roaring bonfire. “Yes, Miah. One hundred percent, yes.”
Within the span of a heartbeat, he’d dropped my hands, cupped my cheeks, and kissed me so deeply, I literally gasped. Miah had a knack for catching me on my heels, but I always caught back up. My fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and I held tight as I kissed him back just as fervently.
A scrum broke out in my head as various thoughts and feelings fought for the spotlight.
Of course, there was an immense feeling of elation; getting to spend time with Miah was the highlight of every week.
My guards easily came down around him, and I felt more like the Zoe in college, who was excited about life and hopeful for the future.
I hadn’t known that girl for a long time, and it was good to have her back.
Along with that, though, came the fear that I’d slip back into the version of myself I’d been after my accident.
Something would trigger that reflex of mine to shut down and close people out, and I’d ultimately hurt Miah.
And Charlie. After all, I hadn’t been in a relationship since college.
Did I even know how to be in a healthy one?
Miah pulled away just enough to look me in the eyes, his thumb stroking tenderly across my cheek and then back to rest at the corner of my lips.
“Where’d you go?” he asked softly.
“You’re not the only one who’s out of practice.” I gave his hoodie a light tug. “What if I don’t know how to be good at this?”
His forehead dropped down to mine.
“We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “We’re a team now, yeah?”
I let his words sink in, chasing away some of those more negative thoughts in my head.
Unlike Blake, Miah wouldn’t leave my side if he could help it.
I knew it deep in my bones. And I would fight tooth and nail to stay by his.
Life had taken enough away from me; I wouldn’t allow it to take any more.
My lips curved up under his thumb. “So, who’s the captain?”
Miah grinned as well and a light chuckle escaped as he shook his head.
“How about co-captains?”
I pretended to ponder his suggestion for just a second to make him sweat and then nodded in agreement. “Co-captains.”
He stole another kiss before dropping his hands to my hips. “Now that that’s settled, and I no longer feel like I’m going to throw up, what do you say we get started on these cookies?”
To say I was shocked when Miah had offered to help me make cookies to take to my aunt and uncle’s was an understatement.
I’d figured after the cupcake icing fiasco, he’d be content to leave all the baking to me, but instead he’d insisted on joining.
Add on that it gave us alone time together, and I wasn’t about to say no.
“I’ll mix the ingredients and you can roll the dough and place it on the cookie sheet.”
Miah nodded gravely. “Probably for the best.”
After a thorough handwashing, I got to work on making the cookie dough while Miah prepped a couple trays and preheated the oven.
The routine motions of baking allowed those negative thoughts to fade even further, everything narrowing down to the bowl in front of me.
Although, Miah watching me while leaning attractively against the counter was a little distracting.
“You’re cute when you’re focused.”
“What?”
Miah just grinned at me. “I said, you’re cute when you’re focused.” He gestured to the space between his eyebrows. “You get this little wrinkle between your brows. It happens all the time during Puffins games.”
My cheeks burned, and, for once, I wished my hair was down so I could hide behind it. Instead, I swirled the wooden spoon around the bowl two more times to make sure the dough was sufficiently mixed and then nudged the bowl across the counter to Miah.
“Quit staring at me and roll the dough.” There was no bite to my words. Just a terribly flustered excuse to have his attention directed elsewhere.
Thankfully, he gave in.
I supervised as he scooped out a decent clump of dough and began to roll it between his large palms. He hesitated, though, whenever he went to place it on one of the cookie sheets.
“Is that too big?”
While it was larger than I would normally go for, it would be fine as long as the cookies were spaced out enough. “Uncle Cal will never complain about a large cookie.”
“Neither would Charlie.”
Despite his words, he made the next ball smaller than the first.
I placed the tray of cookies in the oven and then turned to find Miah still standing where I’d left him, his hands held out like a surgeon pre-op. They were far from sanitary, though. He would never be allowed into the operating room with his cookie dough covered mitts.
He looked up at me helplessly. “How on earth am I supposed to get this off? I tried scraping it off with the spoon, but there’s still a layer of it.”
I couldn’t hide my amused smile as I joined him at the counter, taking his left wrist in my hand and lifting it. My eyes flicked up to his before I leaned forward, licking the dough off of his hand from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.
His Adam’s apple bobbed dramatically, and I could have sworn I heard him gulp. And, God, his eyes. I’d seen them turn golden in the sunlight, but I’d never seen them grow so dark; his pupils expanding until only the mahogany brown of his irises were left.
I straightened up. “Damn, those cookies are going to be delicious.”
“Zo,” he warned, his head tilting in the most adorable way. But there was nothing adorable about the look he gave me. Or rather, gave my mouth.
“Try some,” I encouraged him.
I let go of his wrist and tilted my head up to him. Miah met me halfway, flicking his tongue against my upper lip before properly diving in. It was like the label of boyfriend and girlfriend had given him some sort of green light to not hold back. Definitely not physically, at least.
Given that my hands were dough free, I didn’t hesitate to bury them in the loose curls at the nape of his neck. The low hum that escaped him was all the encouragement I needed.
He moved his hand from between us so I could step closer, and then turned to fully face me.
I pressed my body to his, letting out a hum of my own.
God, he was built. I could only imagine what he’d looked like in the prime of his hockey career.
Just that thought alone had my insides pooling with warmth.
Miah pulled back, and I took the opportunity to catch my breath. The sight of him standing with his hands awkwardly held out at his sides made me laugh, and he let out a chuckle as well, cheeks flushing.
“I didn’t want to get it on your sweater,” he explained. He took a step toward the sink, paused, turned for the paper towels, and then stopped again. “But seriously. How do I get this off?”
“Eat it. Then whatever’s left will be easier to wash off.”
He eyed me before repeating my actions from earlier, his own tongue dragging along his hand to gather up the worst of the dough. I couldn’t look away. Now I was the one gulping obnoxiously loud, but it was at least better than literally drooling over him. Nothing attractive about that.
Tearing my gaze away as he finished off what he could, I stepped around him to turn on the sink, letting the water run warm. While he finished cleaning himself up, I gathered all of our utensils in the bowl and placed it in the sink to soak.
Glancing at the microwave clock, I quickly did the math in my head, making a guesstimate of how long it’d been since I put the cookies in and then subtracting that from the time needed to properly bake.
I’d just come to the decision that I’d give them thirteen more minutes before I checked them when Miah placed his hands on my waist, his large palms engulfing my hips.
He gently tugged me back into his chest and placed a kiss to the side of my head.
“Now I can properly hold you.”
I turned in his arms and smiled softly up at him, letting my hands rest on his pecs through his worn hoodie, the Seattle logo faint beneath my fingers.
“Good. I much prefer it this way.”
His lips pulled into a smile before he leaned down and placed them rightfully back on my own. I lifted up onto the balls of my feet, using my hands on his chest to keep me balanced as I tried to reduce the height difference between us.
Miah must have read my mind; his hands slid from my hips to hook around the back of my thighs, and he easily lifted me up to place me on the counter. Thankfully, the clean one. I draped my arms around his neck and spread my legs so he could step between them.
It was rare for us to have a private moment together. Usually we were in public, or Charlie was with us. So, we were both more than happy to take advantage of the opportunity to get lost in each other like this.
Miah’s lips wandered to my jaw, and I tilted my head back to give him more room, resulting in a soft knock as it met the door of the cabinet behind me. Miah pulled away so fast, he broke my hold on his neck. His hand shot up to cup the back of my head where it had collided with the cabinet.
“Are you okay?”
I just laughed.
“I’m fine. It wasn’t that hard of a hit,” I promised. “I’ve taken much harder.”
That made him smile, but he still shook his head at me.
“How about we wait for the cookies to be done, and then we move this somewhere safer?” I joked. “And comfier.”
“Good idea.”
Preventing temptation—or at least attempting to—he took a step back, but his hands remained on my thighs, thumbs stroking over the denim fabric covering them. My breath hitched when he brushed over the scar on my left thigh. To distract myself, I tugged on the strings of his hoodie.
“Have you ever thought about getting a new one?”
It could be a solid Christmas gift or present for his birthday.
He glanced down, bottom lip pouting ever so slightly. “But this one is all worn in and soft. A new one would just be stiff.”
I couldn’t deny that.
“Besides,”—he shrugged—“it’s the sentimental value. Sadie bought me this right after I got signed.”
I never got upset when he brought up Sadie. In fact, I was glad that he didn’t feel the need to keep her hidden from me. She had been his entire life for nine years and she was Charlie’s mom.
“At least it’s clean. Levi has a beanie from when he was on this competitive snowboarding team, and it’s nearly brown from sweat. Jada’s tried multiple times to get rid of it, but somehow, he always finds it.”
Miah’s nose wrinkled.
“Hockey stench is awful, but snowboarder stench is just as bad,” I said. “Like wet dog mixed with sweat and a hint of musk.”
“Zoe!”
“Sorry. Too detailed?” I giggled.
He bent down to press a kiss to the tip of my nose. “It’s a good thing your kitchen is filled with the delicious smell of baking cookies right now.”
At the reminder of cookies, I twisted around in my spot to check the time. I gently nudged Miah back far enough that I could slide off the counter. Bending down, I switched on the oven light and peered through the little window at the cookies to gauge their readiness.
“I’d say about two more minutes.”
“You know that just by looking at them?”
I stood upright, hands propped on my hips. “When you’re baking nine hours a day, five days a week, you get pretty good at it.”
Grabbing the wax paper, I prepped the counter my butt had previously occupied for the cookies to cool on. Miah opened a drawer to retrieve oven mitts and waited for my cue before removing the cookies from the oven.
“Good?”
I looked them over, analyzing the ratio of golden edge to soft center, and then nodded. “Perfect.”
He held the tray for me as I scooped the cookies off and onto the wax paper. Then he placed it on the stovetop before returning the oven mitts to their designated drawer.
“So…” He casually took a step closer, a dark eyebrow raised. “Somewhere comfy now?”
His hands found my waist before I could even string together a response. My brain had short-wired seeing his eyes go dark again.
“Somewhere comfy.”