Page 22 of Fighting Fate
Milli
Shame the drawer's all neat and tidy now . . .
Miles
Oh? And can I be the one to verify that, Baby Sutton?
My smile broadens, and I catch my lip between my teeth, aware that I would undeniably allow him to do that and...more.
But no, Milli, that's off-limits.
The thought lingers, tempting and taunting in equal measure. It's ludicrous, really—the idea is so far from acceptable it's almost laughable.
Milli
Perhaps you'll have to check if my socks are up to Miles Chasen's exacting standards?
Miles has this peculiar obsession with socks—everything has to match: colors and patterns in meticulous order. He'd probably have a meltdown if he saw the chaotic state of my sock drawer.
Miles
Enough procrastinating, Mills. Get your ass out here.
I sigh, packing my things with a sense of excitement. A break would do me good, especially with the game looming over me.
Milli
*rolls eyes* Fine, I'm on my way, Sir Sunshine.
"Tell Miles I said hi," Payson calls out, barely looking up from her phone.
I exchange a knowing look with Brooke.
"Break a leg tonight," she says warmly. "We'll be right there cheering you on. Don't forget to come see us after!"
With a wave, I head out to find Miles. He's there, exuding a casual confidence, idly kicking at the ground. He's the picture of ease, effortlessly charming in his game day attire—that leather jacket with the number #7, his panda shoes, jeans, and a backward hat. He's everything vibrant and lively, a stark contrast to my more reserved nature.
"I'm here, Sir Sunshine," I quip, greeted in return by his signature smirk and a light, playful shove.
"Don't push it, Mills," he jests, "or you might regret it."
Internally, I wonder if regret is really what I'd feel.
"What's the big emergency?" I ask, curiosity piqued.
He chuckles, a hint of shyness peeking through his usual bravado. Then, he hands me a book, and my heart leaps. It's our game day tradition, one we haven't done in person for years.
Our fingers brush as he hands me the book, a jolt of warmth shooting through me. It's just a touch, but it feels like so much more.
Milli, keep it together.
He clears his throat, the smug Miles reemerging. "Can't break tradition, right?"
I bite my lip, feeling like I'm in some sort of romantic haze. He's thoughtful enough to bring me a book on game day—a romance, no less. It's a gesture not many would think to make, especially with the pressure of a game on the horizon.
I look down at Crimson Desire: Tempestuous Hearts of the Forbidden Isle. My heart flutters. I'd forgotten our tradition, guilt washing over me for not having something for him.
He reads my expression, his shrug casual but his eyes understanding. "Don't sweat it, Mills. You've got a lot on your plate. I figured a book might help you relax."