Page 117 of Falling

“You’re such a drama queen. You know that, right?” I shout to him as I fall onto my back on his bed. The tap stops running, and I make myself comfortable.

“I’m not. My headdoeshurt,” he whines, walking back out of his room in nothing other than gray joggers. He sits beside me, brushing my hair out of my face. “Are you going to stay here tonight?”

“I think we both know that’s not a smart idea,” I say. “I haven’t seen Scar and Kennedy in a week. I miss my girls.”

He moves from over me and rests his back against the windowsill next to his bed. I push myself up next to him. “I’m sorry, Wren. About earlier. I was freaking out, and the last place I should have gone to was a bar. Especially after we’ve spent so much time trying to avoid me getting to that place again. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I let myself slip.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re allowed to have bad moments, Miles. You’re allowed to freak out and lose your head a little. It’s my fault too. I know I shouldn’t have just left. That was a shitty move on my part.” I turn my head to him, but his eyes are already on me. “I meant what I said last night. I am scared. I know you said you’re going to be there, but what if one day you’re not? Trusting people is terrifying. I can’t depend on someone for them to let me down. I really don’t think I’ve got it in me to get heartbroken again.”

He pulls my hand into his lap and encloses his hands around mine.

“That isn’t going to happen. I’m all in. For real,” Miles says, turning over my hand in his. He traces the lines in my palm with his finger.

“I’ve got qualifiers coming up. Then the competition season begins, and you’ve got the hockey team counting on you. If we do this and something happens, we’rebothgoing to go downhill,” I ramble, my voice wavering. “Aren’t you worried about that?”

“I know that this is what I want. I wantyou,Wren. You’re worth it.”

“What if you change your mind?”

“I’m not going to.”

“But what if you do?”

“I'm. Not. Going. To,” he snaps.

He brushes a strand of hair out of my face, the small gesture making my stomach do that annoying flip thing it’s done nearly every day since I met him. I nod, but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. It can be easy to say you’re not going to stop feeling this way, but it happens. I’ve seen it happen right in front of me.

“Why don’t we take it light and breezy and see what happens? If this gets too much, we’ll tell each other, okay?”

“Light and breezy,” I echo. He nods. “That sounds stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” he mutters. I narrow my eyes at him, and he sighs. “You’re not stupid. I’m drunk. You’re gorgeous.”

I grip both sides of his face, shaking him slightly. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

He grins, and it’s enough to make my heart stop. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

I can’t help it.

I press my lips to his, and he practically steals the air from my lungs.

“Yeah, you are,” I mutter into his mouth.

He holds out his pinkie to me. “Promise?”

“You want me to promise that you’re my idiot?” He nods, and I roll my eyes, linking my pinkie with his. “Promise.”

37

WREN

HE FUCKING WINKS AT ME

If somebody had toldme a year ago that I’d be watching my sort-of-boyfriend play ice hockey, forfunand not be complaining, I would’ve laughed in their face. But that’s exactly what I’m doing, and I have the stupidest smile on my face.

I’ve always thought hockey was a cool sport. I even tried it out a few times in middle school, but it was the boys and the typical culture that threw me off sticking with it. There were too many rules that I didn’t understand, and I was too focused on skating to get into it.

After I finished practice, Miles insisted that I come to watch him practice. He’s been having FaceTime calls with my dad, helping him get back into the swing of things, which they’re both loving. It turns out my dad has a lot more knowledge and experience than he’s let on. I think he was nervous that Miles wouldn't want to take any of his advice, but he's been more than willing.

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