Page 28 of Falling

Ten minutesof more completely chilled and not dramatic panicking later, I’m opening the door to a sweaty and puffy-faced Wren. She’s wearing cycling shorts and a sports bra, a duffel bag in her hand. Her blonde hair is tied back into a messy ponytail, flyaways sticking to her forehead. With the way her chest is heaving, I can see the faint outlines of her abs, and I’ve never seen anything more attractive.

My smile widens as I open the door, letting her walk in. She waves her hands around frantically, shooting out apologies. I stop in front of her, resting my hands on her shoulders to force her to take a deep breath. She’s still panting, and it takes her a while to focus on my eyes.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I was at practice, and I went to the gym after and lost track of time. And God, I smell like ass.” She rambles, all of her words merging into one. She scrunches her nose, shaking her head, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Hey, just take a deep breath,” I whisper. I rub my thumb against her collarbone, and she relaxes slightly, taking in a deep breath. “Are you okay? You seem a little…” I give her another once over.

“Tense? On edge?” I nod. She rolls her eyes. “My mom’s just getting in my head this week. It’s nothing. I was planning on working off my energy on the ice, and it just got too much. I’m sorry, again.”

“You don’t have to apologize; it’s okay,” I say. I drop my hands from her shoulders, leading her into the kitchen. I try not to focus on the fact that this is the first time that she’s been in my house. I’ve got nothing to worry about now that I’ve spent the last two hours stress-cleaning. “We can do this at another time if you want.”

“No! It was my fault I was late.” I turn, raising my eyebrows at her outburst. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. I pull out a glass and pour her some water, handing it to her. She downs it in three gulps and places it back on the countertop. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth and sighs deeply.

God. It’s like she’sbeggingme to fall for her.

“Sorry, that was gross.”

“It was hot.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Can I use your shower? I came straight here, and I really don’t feel comfortable talking about our plan as I’m drenched in sweat.”

“Of course,” I say. I nod at her to follow me up the stairs. It’s weird with the house being so quiet and even weirder having Wren actually in my space. I’ve always thought my house was some sacred cave that I could escape to, and now she’s here, and nothing has ever felt more natural.

She gasps when she enters my room.

The walls are painted a dark gray, filled with movie and hockey posters. My dresser is stacked with textbooks and sports magazines, and the romance book that Wren got me is on the side of them. I highlighted a few of the scenes I actually enjoyed, and I plan on giving it back to her for her to see when I’m done. I got rid of the alcohol in my mini fridge, and it sits in a corner, stocked with soda and water.

“Did you clean this just for me?” Wren asks as she walks over to my pile of books. She snorts when she sees The McDavid Effect sitting proudly on the top. She turns around, leaning against the desk as she crosses her arms against her chest.

“This is actually the only room Ididn’tclean,” I admit, stepping toward her. “Clean room equals clear mind.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup,” I say. She nods, tilting her head up to me, and her green eyes lock with mine. My hands itch to do something. To touch her. To help erase whatever stress she feels in this moment. “Are you surprised?”

“Actually, yes,” she says, “You’re making it very hard not to like you, Miles.”

I tuck the few strands of hair that have fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, and her breath hitches. “As a friend?”

“Yes, as a friend,” she says, flashing me a sarcastic grin as she slides away from me. I turn to find her ruffling through her duffel bag, her ass molded in those tight fucking shorts. She groans, dropping her head between her shoulders. “Fuck me.”

Believe me, I want to.

I clear my throat. “Is everything okay?”

She turns. “I left my clean clothes in my locker. You’re going to have to put up with me smelling like shit.”

“You don’t smell like shit, and you can just wear something of mine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to, like, invade your personal space,” she mutters, looking through her bag again before giving up. I’m already looking through my drawers before I reply.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. You can invade my personal space whenever you want as long as you let me invade yours,” I say, turning to her with a towel, faded white NU Bears tee, and some shorts. I hand them to her and nod to the door in the corner of my room. “The bathroom is just through there.”

She walks over, and I drop back on the bed, dragging my hands down my face. I’m going to need to learn how to focus when she’s around. If I want this to work, I can’t get caught up thinking about her ass or the millions of places I want to touch her.

“I don’t usually do this,” she says softly.

I sit up. “Do what? Shower at your fake boyfriend's house?”

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