Page 27 of Fighting Fate

Her hands land on her hips, her expression exasperated. "I know what a belly shot is, Miles. What I meant was, why did you do that?" She's poking my chest now, each word punctuated with a jab. "Why did you pull that stunt?"

Catching her finger, I notice her sharp intake of breath. "First, I wasn't about to let Cam, or anyone, get that close to you. Second, it was just a bit of fun," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Just a bit of fun?" She rolls her eyes. "You always tell me to break out of my shell, to have some fun. So that's what I was doing. And you just had to step in."

She's right. I'm the one who's always pushing her to loosen up. But watching Cam hover over her, I couldn't stand it. "I know, and you're right," I admit, my eyes dropping to the ground. "It was hard watching him, or anyone, disrespect you."

She steps closer, giving me a push. "Disrespect? Miles, what you did wasn't any different. You stepped in his place. Does that mean you disrespected me, too?"

I look back at her, my voice softer. "No, Milli, I didn't mean it like that. You know I would never disrespect you. You're my best friend."

Her eyes seem slightly shocked by my words, perhaps even hurt, as she mutters, "Best friends, right?"

"So, what was all that about?" she probes, arching an eyebrow. "You can't just keep every guy away from me because you think they'll 'disrespect' me, Miles. I'm allowed to choose who I interact with; it's part of the college experience. E-x-p-l-o-r-i-n-g," she emphasizes, drawing out each letter.

Not if I can help it. Guys in Alpha Rho Tau, especially, have a reputation for preying on freshman girls.

I exhale deeply, my fingers weaving through my hair. "Mills, it's not about controlling you. I'm just asking you to be careful. Not every guy who shows interest has good intentions."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, Chasen. Just trust me, will you? I'm not a child anymore."

I'm painfully aware of that.

"I understand," I say, my voice laced with earnestness. "But can you at least try to see it from my perspective? Luke would never forgive me if anything happened to you on my watch."

And neither would I.

She glances down, a sigh escaping her lips. "Fine, but next time we're at the same party, can you not...do what you just did?"

I frown slightly, unsure of exactly which "thing" she's referring to, but I nod, fully aware that it's a promise I might struggle to keep.

Especially when it comes to Milli.

"So, nothing else happened? No goodnight kiss or anything?" Brooke probes as we walk to our classes on a crisp new Monday morning.

I reply with a casual shrug, trying to mask my real feelings about the weekend's events. Honestly, the last thing I want is to dive into a detailed analysis of my encounter with Miles—especially the part where he simultaneously made my heart race and then treated me like I was some fragile thing in need of protection.

And that moment with him...Why did it have to be so complicated? Why couldn't we just either forget it happened or...or maybe explore what it could lead to? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious.

Strolling through the campus, the smell of autumn leaves fills the air. NorthRidge University is stunning this time of year, with its top-tier facilities, the modern library, and the gym that's always buzzing with activity.

A year ago, I wouldn't have pictured myself here. NorthRidge was far from my first choice, but a promise to my mom led me to take a tour. And what do you know? The dance team felt like destiny calling, and the campus—with its picturesque landscape of towering trees, undulating hills, and vine-covered brick buildings—had this unexpected tranquility about it. Watching students hustle to their classes, I'm reminded why I chose to be here.

Brooke raises an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. "Just talking, huh? You know you can tell me if there's more."

I wish there was . . .

"Really, Brooke, it was just a game of belly shots, then some talking," I say, trying to sound convincing.

Navigating that conversation with Miles was like walking through a minefield of awkwardness.

"Actually, it was kind of nice. Setting boundaries, you know?" I gesture vaguely, half trying to persuade her, half trying to reassure myself. "Miles and I, we're clear on where we stand."

Which couldn't be further from the truth. I'm as confused as ever about my feelings for him.

"And, well, I don't want to go down that road with him again," I add, recalling how things turned sour last time we got too close.

But a part of me had relished that closeness . . .