Page 73 of Fighting Fate
It's probably just another player; some have already left, while others are sticking around to work on their drills. Returning to our regular locker room, I grab my shower essentials and head across the hall. With just a towel slung around my waist, I make my way, spotting only four open showers. I choose the one nearest the door.
Stepping into the shower, I carefully adjust the water temperature, blending the cold and hot water to my liking. I catch a glance at the neighboring shower area where the mirrors are fogged up. It's impossible to make out who's in there, and it seems pointless to disturb whoever might be inside—especially if they're engrossed in listening to, uh, Twilight music? The soundtrack sounds oddly familiar, like the one from when Milli convinced me to watch the movies with her. It sounds like "A Thousand Years", but there's a violin twist to it? Whoever it is, they clearly need their privacy.
I ease into the warm water, letting it wash over me, melting away the stresses and hits from the practice. However, it doesn't take long before I hear a frustrated muttering, "Shit, shit, crap. Stupid, dumb girl," someone murmurs.
Wait, what the hell? Who's calling someone stupid, and why did that voice sound oddly familiar?
I quickly wipe my face and reach for my towel to investigate the situation. But the moment my hand reaches for the towel hook, there's nothing there.
"Fuckkk me," I curse under my breath.
Leaving my towel by the mirrors now seems like a bad idea. What if there's danger lurking? I'd have to make a naked dash for it.
Shaking off these wild thoughts, I step out, instantly chilled by the air. As I rush for my towel, I collide with someone.
"What the hell?"
A flurry of curses fill the air, and before I can process it, I've instinctively wrapped my arms around the other person.
And judging by the breasts I'm currently bumping into, it's definitely a woman's body.
But not just any woman's body. I recognize those legs I've often pictured wrapped around my waist, this body I've longed to hold, and, well, that stomach, the one my lips and tongue have sensually explored. Even in this unexpected moment, there's a familiarity that sends my mind reeling.
I let my gaze wander lazily, starting with her feet on the floor, then tracing her toned legs and stomach, despite it being pressed right against mine. As my eyes rise to meet hers, I find my hands instinctively positioned on her shoulders, as if to steady us both.
Our eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, we're frozen in a mutual shock. The reality of the situation crashes over me—I'm completely bare, holding Milli in the same state.
Milli. My Mills.
She's right here, her body pressed against mine in the most intimate way possible.
Miles, get a grip, I mentally chide myself, but my thoughts are a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion.
Our eyes are wide, mirroring each other's shock as we remain motionless, grappling with the reality of our closeness.
What do you even do in a situation like this? Holding your best friend, both of you, without a stitch of clothing?
The answer is simple yet feels monumental—you fucking let go.
Listening to my inner thoughts, I gently guide Milli back by an inch, attempting to create some distance between us. However, it only seems to intensify the situation. Instead of catching a mere glimpse of her fully exposed body, I find myself viewing it from a close and intimate angle. Not to mention, her incredible breasts. God, are they fucking delicious and practically beckoning me, whispering, "Reach out, indulge, savor the temptation."
I'm really craving it, I can't deny it. My tongue subconsciously moistens my lips. The temptation to reach out, to feel their softness against my calloused hands, is almost overwhelming. I wish I could make her sweet sounds, just for a moment. Maybe a playful flick of her nipple, or even a gentle bite with my teeth.
If there's a higher power listening, please let this be my stress relief right now. I promise to repay the favor somehow, but I'm just not ready for this to end yet.
Suddenly, a soft whimper jolts me from my daze. Confusion floods me as Milli tilts her head back, lips parted slightly in a vulnerable expression that's both startling and captivating.
"Oh god, don't stop, Miles," she breathes out in a hushed tone.
What the hell?
My eyes lower, and my heart stutters in my chest. My hand, seemingly moving with a mind of its own, comes to rest on her chest, right over her breasts. The very same ones I've glimpsed only through our video calls, the ones I've secretly longed to touch.
This can't be real . . .
But it's happening, right here, right now. I'm caught in this surreal moment, witnessing a side of
Milli I've never seen.