Page 92 of Fighting Fate

Is there an "us" to even think about?

Sure, Stoneton and NorthRidge aren't worlds apart. We've managed the distance alright, but what if I end up at Harvard or Penn? And what if...well, what if I'm not even here a year from now?

Stop it, Miles. You're fine. Just fine.

Yet, something inside me is shouting that it's not that simple.

Cam throws me a knowing look. "Told you, man, from day one, you're in deep," he says, squeezing my shoulder before heading out. "Catch you at practice."

"Get ready to kiss the ground, Leif!" I shout, earning a cheeky wink from him. As he disappears, my attention snaps back to Milli. She's wrapping up her chat with Brooke, and like magnets, we're drawn together without even thinking.

I prop myself against a desk, flashing her my best grin. "Ready to ace that final, Baby Sutton?" I catch a glimpse of the shy Milli peeking through, but it's swiftly overshadowed by her signature sharp retort.

"Better question, are you?" She throws back, her eyebrow lifting in a fun challenge.

I shoot her a wink. "With you as my secret weapon? We're talking about smooth sailing."

She blushes, then asks, "We still on for our tutoring session?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I reply, eager for any moment with her.

She laughs softly, shaking her head at my enthusiasm.

"Milli, you coming to practice?" Wyatt peeks in, breaking into our bubble.

I try to keep cool, even though I don't like the way he's eyeing her. Does he know she's off-limits?

Does she know, Miles?

"Give me a sec," she tells him, turning back to me. I move away from the desk, expecting maybe a hug. But with Wyatt still lingering, I decide to make a statement. I gently cup her chin, turning slightly, and press a kiss to her cheek, letting it last a little longer than normal. Let him, let everyone know she's mine.

All I'm sure of is that I can't let chances slip by. It's like the universe is finally tipping in my favor, you know? That guy, always showing off what was just out of my reach, but now, it's like he's signaling, "Go for it, now or never."

Our eyes meet, locking in a moment charged with unspoken words. His eyes widen slightly, though whether from surprise or something else, I can't discern. As the distance between us grows, a silent, intense connection lingers with Milli. My jaw tightens involuntarily. Just as I'm convinced she'll leave without another word, she edges closer. Her whisper a feather-touch in my ear. "Jealousy is not your style, Sunshine."

She draws back, and our faces hover in a breath's space. Her gaze pierces through my confusion right before she drops the revelation. "Wyatt's gay."

Wait, what?

He's gay? That's fucking a curveball.

His eyes, his gestures, they didn't hint at that.

Then, with a twist, she kisses my cheek, her tongue teasing the corner of my lips. A gentle tap on my shoulder, and she's off, with a skip in her step, reminiscent of Dorothy's carefree jaunt in The Wizard of Oz.

I watch her move toward the door, catching her glance back and wink. It ignites a fire in me, a wild urge to chase after her, toss her over my shoulders, and have my way with her.

Punish her for making me think there was something more going on between her and Wyatt.

For teasing me with that delicious tongue of hers, leaving a trail of unsaid promises.

"Move it, Chasen! Push! Run!" Coach's voice thunders across the field. Clutching the football, my heart drums with adrenaline. The freshly cut grass under my cleats feels like a solid launching pad as I hunker down behind the center, my breath fogging in the chilly, late-fall breeze.

As sweat beads on my forehead, I survey the field, eyeing the defensive line. The opposing team, their gear like battle armor, zeroed in on me with fierce determination.

Snatching the snap, my thoughts race. A gap in their line winks at me, a narrow chance for precious yards. I lunge forward, my cleats tearing into the lush grass. The cacophony of teammates and colliding gear envelope me, yet my focus is laser-sharp on propelling the ball forward. My cleats thud rhythmically against the turf as I dodge past defenders, my agility defying expectations. Known for speed, today, I feel an unmatched synergy with the game, each stride deliberate and exact.

The cheers from my teammates grow louder as I break into the open field. The autumn sun casts long shadows on the field, and the end zone appears distant, its painted grass a shimmering gold in the afternoon light. My heart races, and the weight of the football in my arms is almost insignificant compared to the challenge ahead. This is my moment to feel like I'm not going anywhere, and I am fucking determined to seize it.

---