Page 82 of Fighting Fate

"I guess you knew I'd show up." I chuckle nervously.

Why am I even nervous? Miles and I go way back, but as I cast my line and sneak a peek at him, I wonder if it's not my nerves but his I'm picking up on. There's this tension in him, a heaviness I can't quite nail down. He's staring at the water, lost in thought. It's been only a week since we last saw each other, so is it really me throwing him off? Or is something else eating at him?

I start to fidget, my fingers itching to play with my hair. What was I thinking, coming here? Our friendship could be hanging by a thread because I let my guard down, dared to hope for more with Miles. I should have known better—he's all about football, not settling down. And me? I've still got years of school ahead.

"Stop it," he says, casual but firm.

Next year he could be anywhere, far away, chasing his NFL dreams.

"Milli," he says more sharply, pulling me back from my thoughts.

I'm such an idiot . . .

Milli, don't go there.

"Mills, just stop," he repeats, his grip firm on my wrist, igniting that familiar shiver of sensation through me.

And stop what, exactly?

He flashes that smug look, fully aware of its effect on me. It's the kind of expression that could bring me to my knees, if I ever allowed it. And should that moment come, it would be for one reason, and one reason only.

I'm flustered, confused, a bit miffed, especially after our last encounter. "So, are you gonna tell me what I'm supposed to stop doing or saying?" I snap back, more sass in my voice than I intended.

He just shakes his head, eyes still on the water.

"Is that how you're answering me now?" My frustration's bubbling up.

He shakes his head again, avoiding my gaze.

Milli, remember why you're here.

I set the pole down, crossing my arms. At this point, if I'm annoying him, so be it. He's been driving me up the wall, anyway.

Be the bigger person, Milli.

I'm trying, really. I'm here trying to have a decent talk with him, but man, sometimes he's just so...so frustrating. Reminds me of how Mom has to snap Dad out of his zones. I get it now, I really do. And right now, I'd love to give Miles a good flick right on his forehead.

He glances back, that infuriating smug look still there.

I want to kiss it right off his face.

Focus, Milli.

There's another tense pause before he finally says, "You know, I can always tell when something's bugging you. You're about to burst, but can't quite say it."

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure him out as he casts another line.

"Like how you play with your hair when you're nervous."

What's he driving at?

"Or your other tell?"

My eyes and brows furrow in confusion.

"Your tongue pushes against your cheek, then you bite it."

He pauses. "You're doing it right now," he points out, his gaze intense as he scans my face, lingering on my cheeks.

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