“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, voice as rough as the storm we survived. “Every single part of you.”
I barely manage a whisper. “Miles…”
He kisses me—deep, fierce, full of the kind of hunger that makes my knees weaken all over again. His body presses tomine, hard planes and heat and urgency, and I feel his need in every inch of him, undeniable and scorching.
My hands slide up his back, pulling him closer. Opening myself to him. I invited him in without a single word.
His forehead rests against mine, breaths trembling as he steadies himself.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, voice low enough to vibrate against my chest.
I swallow, heat pooling low and heavy.
“I want you,” I whisper. “All of you.”
He lifts my thigh again, anchoring me against him. My breath stutters at the sensation… the pressure… the promise. His fingers lace with mine above my head, pinning my hands gently to the tile, holding me exactly where he wants me—where I want to be.
His lips trail down my jaw, my throat, then back to my mouth.
And then he moves, pushing his impressive length inside me—slow at first, deliberate, like he’s savoring every flicker of reaction that crosses my face. The sensation hits like a warm, breathtaking shock, pleasure blooming outward, wrapping me in something molten and overwhelming. My gasp fractures into a moan, and he swallows it with his mouth.
The water pours over us. The world falls away. Miles holds me through every rising, burning, beautiful second as the moment crescendos again and again until I can’t remember what it felt like not to have him this close.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
MILES
The ice feels different beneath my skates today. Sharper. Brighter. Like it knows something about me has shifted.
Hell, everything in my life feels different.
There will always be a clear line drawn in my life…before being snowed in with Mirandaandafter. After the two days we had, I’m changed in ways I can’t undo. Now that I know what it feels like to be with her—to touch her, to taste her, to love her—there’s no going back to the version of myself who didn’t know those things. Who didn’t know herthis way.
I’ve always known we had insane chemistry. Anyone with eyes could see it. But I didn’t realize that being with her, actually being with her, would rearrange something fundamental inside me. I’ve had my fair share of relationships, flings, hookups… and none of them compare. Being with her isn’t just different. It’sright. Like the missing piece I didn’t know to look for has finally slid into place.
There’s still something she’s hiding from me. I can feel it, a shadow at the edges, a bruise she protects. But I’m not worried. I’ll wait. I’ll be patient. She’s kept it locked away for years,probably for good reason, and I’m not entitled to it just because we’re together now. I just hope that the more she relaxes into us, the more she’ll start to believe she can trust me with the parts she’s scared to show.
Every now and then this weekend, I saw her eyes shift, just for a heartbeat, with panic, doubt, and fear. Emotions she tried to blink away before I could catch them. But she always came back. She always refocused on me, let me pull her close again, let herself feel safe again.
And God, I’m proud of her for that. For choosing me. For choosingthis. For fighting through whatever storm lives inside her just to stay in my arms.
It means she wants this as much as I do. She sees it—sees us as clearly as I do.
“Keller!” Coach’s voice slices across the ice, shattering the last remnants of the beautiful thoughts I’d been drifting through, memories of the past two days with Miranda.
I snap my gaze up as he barrels toward me, eyes sharp. “What’s your problem this morning?” he barks. “Two days off and you’re skating like you got your head stuck up your ass. Get your shit together.”
“Sorry, Coach,” I call back, breath puffing in the cold air. “I’m on it. Won’t happen again.”
And the thing is… he’s right. My head hasn’t been in this practice at all. I’ve been going through the motions, the jumps, cuts, and stops. But my mind has been nowhere near the ice. It’s been on her. On the way she looked curled beneath all those blankets. On how she whispered my name. On everything that happened in that snowed-in world of ours.
I need to focus. This is my job, one that I get paid good money to do. This is what I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough to lace up skates. I need to lock in and act like it.
I suck in a breath and force my brain back into my body, refocusing on the next drill. “Let’s go,” I mutter to myself.
For the rest of this practice, however long Coach keeps us, I need to be here. Present. Strong. Fast.
