Page 49 of Fighting Fate

I lift an eyebrow. "That's not happening, Sunshine."

He mirrors my gesture. "Oh, really? Why not?"

I shrug again, feigning indifference, and he just chuckles. "Okay, okay, I appreciate what I get."

A smile dances briefly on my lips. Miles clears his throat, and I blurt out without thinking, "Are you feeling okay? How's your head? I'm sorry I didn't check in earlier. Got caught up with the girls; margarita night. Time just flew. I totally missed the game."

He grins as I ramble on. "It was on TV, so I guess that counts, right? Caught some of the commentary?—"

"Mills, relax, I'm all good. Look," he interjects, abruptly standing and twirling like a ballerina, then flopping back down. His lightheartedness sparks laughter, his effortless charm shining through.

Despite his reassurances, the worry for Miles' well-being lingers. After all the times he's shrugged off injuries, especially ones as risky as a head hit without a helmet, it's hard not to be concerned.

"Should've pointed those toes, Miles," I tease, trying to keep the mood light.

He responds with a chuckle, "I know, I know. A mistake, coming from a ballerina/hip hop pro like you. Shame on me." His tone is playfully self-deprecating. Relief washes over me. I was afraid this conversation would veer into serious territory, but Miles has this knack for keeping things easygoing and fun.

We're both just sprawled out on our beds, eyes glued to our phones, enveloped in a silence that doesn't bother me. Yet, something's shifted since I stepped out of the shower, a restlessness creeping in that's anything but familiar. My night was supposed to follow a well-worn path, a soothing routine that never fails, but now...now, this has thrown me off course.

It's funny, isn't it? How life throws you these wild, unpredictable moments.

I'm just about to fill the silence when a sudden commotion on his end catches my attention.

"Hey, Chasen!"

"Dude, why are you lounging in your hotel bed?"

The same question nudges at my thoughts. After any match, but more so after one on foreign turf, I've heard stories of their wild celebrations. Seeing him here, instead of living it up with his team or, at the very least, with Luke, throws me off a bit. Though, selfishly, I'm glad for it; it means more time with Miles for me.

"Yeah, you're our mentor, remember?" I hear Cam's voice, dripping with sarcasm.

I shake my head, a chuckle escaping me. His trio of troublemakers has just gatecrashed our moment.

Miles yawns, but it's a facade. I can tell. Years of harboring a crush turns you into a keen observer. I've watched him enough to know his genuine smiles from his forced ones, his real yawns from his fake.

"Dude, who's he talking to?" Devon's voice cuts in.

"Wait, is that a video call?" Gunner adds.

"No way, he's on a video call," Cam states, and I can almost picture his eyes stretching wide in surprise.

The phone shakes in Miles' hand, his voice tinged with nervousness. Clearly, his friends are trying to sneak a peek. I bite my lip to hold back laughter.

Miles clears his throat. "None of your business." He waves them off. "Now get out of my room. Wait, how did you even get in here? You don't have a key."

Keys jingle. "That's because I let them in, you douchebag."

That voice—I recognize it instantly.

Luke.

"What the hell, Chasen? You got a girl over there?"

"Something like that..." Miles mutters, so quietly it's almost just for me.

I shut my eyes tight, hoping beyond hope that Luke doesn't see me on the call. It's not that it's a huge deal, but more about the curiosity it might spark. Why is Miles on a FaceTime call with me, rather than out with the team?

Miles shrugs at his friends, playing it cool. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

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