Page 9 of Fighting Fate

I'm rooted to the spot. Seriously, Luke!? Of all nights, he picks this one to crash? Feels like some cosmic prank for ditching my grounding. Weren't he and Miles supposed to be heading back to college? Something about needing to be back for practice?

Brooke's still staring at the entrance, and I'm so stiff, it takes her nudging me to snap out of it.

Crap, crap, crap . . .

In pure reflex, I duck under the bar. "What? Luke's here? Why? Doesn't he have to get back to college? Shouldn't he be?—"

Brooke cuts off with an, "Oh, shit," then claps a hand over her mouth.

I raise an eyebrow. "What's up, B? Spill it."

Her look says it all. If Luke's here, then it means...

She tries to play it cool. "Not a biggie, but your crush might've tagged along." She winces. "With, uh, three other girls."

Classic Miles, always the ladies' man. And yeah, guilty as charged, I still have a thing for him, regardless.

Didn't he suggest he was skipping out tonight? That's the impression he gave at the restaurant, yet how he was in the loop about tonight's plans is beyond me. Despite this, I find myself wrestling with a pang of jealousy at the sight of him with other girls, even though he's not mine to claim.

But who am I kidding? It's always been tough, right from our high school days. Envy used to hit hard every time some girl fluttered around him. I got better at dealing with it when he left for college—out of sight, out of mind. But when he's back, it's like, can't these girls take a break?

"Okay, so don't panic," Brooke says, which, obviously, sends me into full panic mode. Who says that and expects calm?

I arch an eyebrow, bracing for Brooke's next words, but she barely starts, "They're comin?—"

My nerves kick in and I interrupt. "Where are they? What do the girls look like?" Brooke's just smirking at me. "C'mon, B, spill it," I demand.

Just as she's on the brink of laughter, a familiar voice from behind me slices through the air. One I'd recognize anywhere. I swivel around, and there's Miles, leaning down to my level, those mischievous blue eyes of his twinkling. "Milli, fancy seeing you here," he says, all grins.

"Talk about a small world," I mumble, thrown off by this twist. I mean, I'm not mad about Miles being here—the opposite, really. But him and Luke together? Not great with Luke being Mr. Overprotective Big Bro.

As I lock eyes with Miles, we both stand up. He's quick to steady me, hands on my waist, and it's like being zapped back to earlier tonight at the restaurant. My heart's doing the samba, my throat's all dry, and there's this buzz all over me, like excitement and nerves all mashed up.

"Is it just me, or did it get way hotter in here?" I whisper, fanning myself. Great, now I'm channeling my mom's vibes around Miles.

"Have you been drinking?" he asks, eyebrow cocked. It's not his usual flirty look, more like he's actually worried.

I catch my lip between my teeth, and his eyes follow the movement, then slowly drift over me.

When did this kind of tension start with us? Sure, there's always been something, but is it the booze making me see that Miles is really looking at me? I'm not even dressed up—just this black leather jean jacket, a white bodysuit that's a bit daring (thanks to Payson's advice), mom jeans, and Converse. Nothing fancy, but maybe Payson was onto something.

Just then, Brooke gives a little cough, and Payson joins in. "She's just living it up tonight, senior style. Got a problem with that, Miles?" She puts a bit of sass in his name, hips swaying just so. Miles clenches his jaw, clearly bugged.

"Yeah, didn't think so," Payson finishes with a wink.

My best friends, seriously, they're the best. Unbelievable, totally awesome. I try to look anywhere but at Miles, eyes darting around for Luke. Getting busted by him here would be a disaster. Sure, Luke was no angel back in the day, but there's this double standard, right? If I were him, I'd just be a cool guy having fun, but me? I'm just the rebellious, careless teen sister.

And it's not like Luke never pulled a Houdini himself. Guess who showed me the ropes? Big bro, leading by example.

"You know, Mills," Miles says, eyes catching mine, that smirk of his nearly making my knees give way. Good thing I'm leaning on the bar. If I ever hit the floor in front of Miles, trust me, it won't be because of a smirk. "If you were curious about who I came with, you could've just asked."

Not that I care about the girls eyeing him or how they look.

Yeah, right, Milli . . .

And just like that, here comes one of them. A tall, stunning blonde, wrapping around Miles like she's made for it. "Luke and the others are inside the club," she says.

Great, she's gorgeous. Athletic, flawless, the full package. And me? Thinking Miles might see me as more than a friend? What a joke. Is this the kind of girl he hangs out with at college?

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