Falling: Chapter 20

I wake up in sweats, clutching my chest like I had a nightmare, only it was the exact opposite.

It’s been a few days since spending the night with Miles at my dad’s hotel. Which means it’s been a few days of intense workouts, desperate studying, and doing everything I can to avoid thinking about Miles Fucking Davis and his stupid fucking mouth.

The more time I spend with him, the more I start feeling things I definitely don’t want to feel. Like attraction. Safety. Comfort. He pulls me in like the moon pulls in the tide, and I’ve tried everything to stop letting myself feel this way. I had to tell Kennedy and Scarlett to sit me down and tell me every good reason why he’s not good for me.

They came up with nothing.

So I’ve spent the last four nights having insanely vivid sex dreams about him. He’s invaded my senses and my thoughts. Even my dreams aren’t safe from him, and he’s not even doing anything. He just exists beside me with his tall frame and deep voice and his dirty jokes, and it makes me want to fall for him. How pathetic is that?

“Rough night?” Scarlett asks, sitting on the edge of my bed while Ken rifles through my wardrobe. I don’t know why they love to do this. They treat my room like the designated hang-out spot, like we don’t all have our own rooms and a living area.

“You could say that.” I rub my temples. “Stupid Miles and stupid dreams.” They laugh, and I go to check my phone. I still haven’t heard from Austin, and my mom has been asking me for updates all weekend. This is just what Austin does. She disappears for a few weeks, lets everyone worry, and then turns up again like nothing happened.

It’s well into the afternoon now, and it’s been a while since I’ve had a lazy day. It also helps that it’s been snowing like crazy these last couple of days. Our little town has been covered in thick layers of snow, and we’ve been bundled up in our apartment watching Gilmore Girls and pretending our lives are on hold.

“My point still stands,” Kennedy says, turning around to me with t wo bikinis I haven’t worn yet in her hands. “I say you fuck him and get it over with.”

“Yeah, at least then you’re not still thinking about what it would be like to sleep with him,” Scarlett adds.

“I’m not thinking about it.” I groan, dropping my head against the headboard.

“Right….” they both say at the same time, looking at each other.

“What are you doing with my clothes, Ken?” I ask as she makes a pile.

“I’m preparing myself for summer. You never let me borrow your clothes unless you don’t want them, so I’m starting my collection early,” she says, smiling at me.

“Do you ever buy your own clothes?” Scarlett asks.

“Why would I? Wren lends me hers, and you get me clothes from Voss all the time,” she argues. Scarlett’s family’s clothing brand has saved our lives so many times. Kennedy shrugs. “The perks of our friendship are finally paying off.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” I mumble, slipping out of the bed to finally get dressed. I should probably visit my mom or go to the gym or do something that isn’t lying around thinking about Miles. I startle at the knock on the door. “Did you guys order takeout already?”

“Nope, but we are having pizza tonight, right?” Kennedy asks. I snort, walking out of my room toward the door. We’ve had pizza every night this week. She shouts after me, “Right?!”

I ignore her and open the door.

The wind is almost knocked out of me when I see the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid. Miles is standing in front of me, grinning like a Cheshire cat, wearing at least three layers of clothing.

“Miles,” I greet, nodding curtly.

“Wrenny girl,” he says, smiling wide. “I’ve missed you.

”

“Wish I could say the same.”

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Depends what you’re doing here.”

“I’m taking you out. Me and you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “We don’t have anything planned today.”

“I know.”

My patience thins. “Then why are we going out?”

He sighs, rolling his head back dramatically before facing me. “Because I want to hang out with you, you idiot.”

I gasp, trying not to laugh. “Don’t come to my house to insult me, Miles.”

“No, I’m coming to your house to take you out because I’ve missed you, and I want you to put me out of my misery,” he says, removing my arm from the door where I’ve blocked him, and he walks in like he fucking owns the place. “Can you get ready so we can go?”

“Who said I wanted to go out with you?” I argue, crossing my arms.

“Or don’t get ready,” he drawls, scanning my entire outfit. I’m still wearing the shorts I slept in and a thin tank top. “You look perfect like this.”

I huff.

It’s either spending an entire day inside daydreaming about Miles, or spending time with him that proves that he’s actually annoying and I shouldn’t need to daydream about him. Really, there isn’t much of a choice.

“Fine,” I say, holding my hands up in defeat and dropping them. “You better rock my world, Milesy, or I’m not trusting you again.”

“You won’t regret it,” he says, winking at me.

We get a good hour into the walk until I’m ready to go home. There’s a trail I sometimes take for a run that’s not too far from us and has enough hills and turns to get a good workout in. But Miles wanted to take us somewhere else.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask as he pulls me along, my gloved hand clasped into his. Honestly, the weather is a lot more bearable with his hand in mine. The sun is shining, but it’s still cold as fuck, and the snow is taking forever to melt.

“That’s the whole point of the adventure, Wrenny girl,” he says, flashing me a grin.

“Are you being serious?” I sigh. “You dragged me out of my house to go on an adventure and you have no clue where we’re going?”

“You need to be more spontaneous. Live a little.”

“I am living, and I hate it.”

He tugs onto my arm, and I catch up with him. He drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his side. “Come on, baby. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“It snows all the time, you oaf.”

He frowns. “Are you allergic to having fun?”

“What part of this is fun?”

He ignores me and pulls apart from me before swiping up some snow from a tree. He turns to me, and I step back. “No,” I whisper, holding my hand up to him to stop.

“Just one.”

“No.”

His grin turns evil as he squeezes the ball of snow in his hand, making it into the perfect round shape. He lifts his hand slowly. “It’s already leaving my hand, Wren, and it’s coming straight for you. There’s really no stopping it now.”

“You’ve got to catch me first,” I shout.

I run in the opposite direction, my boots plowing through the snow as Miles chases after me, throwing snowballs in my direction .

I swipe up some snow from a bush before launching it over my head. I don’t know if any of them are actually getting him, but I keep running and making more until he gets closer to me and I’m panting.

“Your aim is terrible, princess,” he shouts, and I turn back to see that he’s right on my heels.

I throw another snowball in his face. “And you keep hitting me in the ass.”

“That’s exactly what I’m aiming for.” He winks and I shake my head, still trying to run away from him. My foot gets stuck in a patch, and I fall over on my stomach. Miles is right behind me, and he drops onto me before rolling over and tugging me right onto his chest. We’re both wheezing with laughter, our faces covered in snow.

I push at his chest, but he keeps me close to him, and my legs wrap around his waist. I sit up, his hands digging into my sides as I straddle him. His face is flushed, and water droplets are dripping down it. God, he looks good.

“Got you,” he says, looking at the space between us before his eyes meet mine.

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” He stares at me, and his gaze dips to my lips. I lick them, and his grip on me tightens. I’m too afraid to move but too scared to stay here and do something stupid. I clear my throat. “Should I take a picture?”

He nods, and I pull out my phone.

I take a picture of him from where he’s beneath me, getting the way his hands rest on my thighs in the frame. I pass my phone to him, and he takes one of me from his position so we can make a good collage out of it and post it.

“These are good. Do you want me to post them, or should I send them to you?” I ask.

“Send them to me.” He rubs his hands against my thighs. “But I’m not going to post it, and I don’t want you to either. I want this one to be just for us.

”

I frown. “But, Miles⁠—”

He shakes his head. “Let’s keep those just for us, Wren. Please.”

The pleading in his tone catches me off guard, and I nod. Maybe there are some parts of this agreement that we can keep to ourselves. There’s no harm in that. Is there? Like how right now we’re just staring at each other, covered in snow, and neither one of us has moved.

“We should try to find a way out of here. It’s like we’re in a maze,” I say after a while.

“You’re going to have to get off me for that to happen, princess,” he mutters before he drops his head back into the snow and crosses his arms behind his head. “Or don’t. I like this view.”

I groan and stand up. As I do, I collect some snow in my hands and throw it in his face. “Come on, Milesy.”

I’m really contemplating why I let Miles talk me into this because we go another half an hour without getting anywhere. The view is gorgeous, with our entire town covered in white snow and the sun still peeking through the clouds. The snowball fight tired me out, and the sun is still harsh, so the only thing Miles is really good for is keeping my jumper in his bag while I walk around in jeans and a shirt.

“We’re lost, Miles,” I say for the tenth time. “I’m tired and hungry, and the only end I’m seeing in sight is death.”

“You know, you’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met,” he says, shaking his head at me. “Trust me, I’ve got it all figured out.”

He sticks his finger in his mouth and moves it around in the air. This must be the third time he’s done that, and he makes us change direction every time. I lean against a thick tree as I watch him do his Boy Scout ritual.

“Do you actually know what you’re doing, or do you just like getting your finger wet?” I ask.

He turns to me, hands on his hips. “Why would I like getting my finger wet?”

I shrug. “I dunno. It could be a kink of yours.”

“That’s not a kink, Wren; that’s just weird.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy,” I tease. I cross my arms against my chest, tilting my head up to the sky. “You’ve got to admit that we’re lost. Let’s just give up. The sun is about to set, and all the freaks come out at night.”

He grins. “Oh, so you mean you?”

“Is your love language bullying?”

“You know, over the last few weeks, it’s changed. Words of affirmation might be taking the top spot, actually,” he says.

“Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed. You don’t do much of that with the girl you’re supposed to be dating,” I say, laughing.

“What do you want me to do, Wren?” He groans, dropping his arms from his hips.

“Right now? I’d appreciate it if you could try to get us⁠—”

“No, I mean with the fake dating. What else do you want me to do, to tell you?”

My heart stutters. I thought we were just joking around, but maybe not. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes darken, and he steps closer to me. I’d back up if I wasn’t already pressed to the tree. ‘Do you seriously think I don’t compliment you enough?”

“I-It was a joke,” I spit out.

“But do you really mean it? If you want me to tell you how stunning you are every day, I’ll do it.” He steps closer, and his hand grazes my cheek. He’s not wearing his gloves, and I feel my entire body melting into him. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I blink up at him. “If you want me to admit that you’re all I fucking think about, this is me admitting that to you. You consume all my thoughts, princess. You consume me.”

I try to search his face for something. For some sort of sign to tell me that he’s joking, but I find nothing. He flirts with me all the time. It’s been our go-to banter since we met, but this doesn’t feel like it usually does.

“Are you being⁠—”

“Yes,” he bites out. His hand curls around my neck, and his other grips my hip. “I mean it, Wren.”

I stare up at him, and no words come. I want to tell him he’s lying, that he doesn’t mean it, that he can’t mean it, but I’m legitimately speechless.

I let him grip the back of my neck tighter, and he searches my eyes for some sort of answer, but I don’t give him one. His breath tickles my neck before he kisses me there. The sensation is so intense and unknown that my head tilts to the side, giving him more access.

“My god, Wren. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect, and you don’t even know it,” he murmurs into my skin, pressing the hottest kisses to my neck like I’m paying him to do it. “Can I keep kissing you here?”

“Yes,” I breathe. I clutch his shirt, and I don’t have it in me to tell him to stop. He doesn’t kiss me; he just keeps worshiping my neck and my chest until I’m writhing beneath him.

He kisses across my jaw, and I laugh when he gets to a sensitive spot. “Keep still, baby,” he rasps against my cheek. He drops his knee between my legs, pinning me there, and he pulls my arms up, pinning them together with one of his hands. “Let me do this for you, okay? Let me show you what you do to me. Let me show you how good I could be to you.”

I nod, and he continues. He kisses and sucks my skin into his mouth in the most maddening ways, biting and then smoothing it out. I ’ve never had a more sensual feeling in my life, and I don’t ever want it to stop.

He nudges his knee between my legs, and I grind into him. The friction between our clothes and his knee pressing into me sends a ripple of pleasure through my entire body. I can feel myself get wet, and the faster his kisses become on my neck and on my chest, the harder I grind into him. My body is spinning out of control, and I don’t want to catch it.

“Jesus Christ, Miles,” I mutter when his warm hand spreads across my stomach, reaching up to cup one of my tits. His thumb swipes across my nipple, and I arch into him, my hips moving faster. “What are we doing?”

“Do you want this as bad as I do?” he asks into my skin, still not kissing me where I want him to.

“I don’t know,” I whine. I don’t know what I want. Everything about this is screaming yes while also saying no at the same time. It’s confusing as fuck. My patience runs out, and I say, “Are you going to kiss me?”

His grip on my wrists tightens. “Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” I pant. This is all too confusing. Too much. He leaves one long kiss on the top of my breast before he drops his hands from mine, smoothing out my shirt and stepping back from me.

“Okay, then we’ll stop,” he says.

I blink at him. “W-what?”

“You need to be sure, Wrenny girl,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m not touching you again until you’re sure.”

He smiles at me like he didn’t just put my entire body through a workout, getting me ready to let him fuck me against a tree. I’ve never wanted to punch and kiss someone more.

He tilts his head to the side. “Is that okay with you, princess?”

No, Miles, it really isn’t fine because I almost let you kiss me just t hen, and if it happens again, I really don’t know if I can convince you to stop.

But I don’t say that. Instead, I smile and say, “Fine,” before turning in the opposite direction and hoping I can find us a way home. I don’t trust myself to be alone with him anymore. When I’m with him, I find myself losing more and more control, and there’s nothing more terrifying than that.