Twisted Turnaround

Chapter 37

ANDREA

Miles has his last game today of his final season. There is a lot riding on this game, but I try to cheer him up that morning. I decide to bake him muffins that I know he will enjoy. After I'm done and my body is overheating, I take it over to the living room.

"Hey guys," I say, stepping into the room tentatively, wiping at my brows. "I made something for you guys."

"You mean you made something for Miles, but I just happen to be here," Bash says, which I only nod at. He laughs at our shared humor and reaches for a muffin, wiping into it all within a second. While he is eating, I take a seat on the couch and look at Miles. He was studying the latest game of the opposing team, eyes trained on the television. I place my hand over his shoulder, and he grabs my hand, bringing it close to his face. He leans against it, and I whisper, "I made you something."

"Did you?" he asks, but he isn't looking at me. "What is it?"

"Muffins."

"You baked something?" he asks, and I nod. "Uh, maybe I'll try them later."

"Okay," I say quietly and scoot closer to him as I focus on the game as well. After the game is over, Miles sighs. "I don't know if we will win this one."

"It doesn't matter about that," Bash says. "You'll just play your hardest, and people will recognize that."

"We will see," Miles whispers.

"You'll do great," I say softly, moving my hand over to his face so I can get him to look at me. Bash gets up from the couch behind us and says, "Well, I'm leaving to catch up with Hannah. But I'll see you guys later."

"Sure," Miles answers, and once he is out of sight, he looks over at me. It feels good to have him looking at me. "Miles, you'll do great, and—" My words die down because he only moves his head into my chest. I respond by moving my hand into his hair and gently massage his scalp. He murmurs at my chest, and I continue. "I'm not scared about the game," he speaks into my chest. "I'm just scared of not getting anywhere."

"You still have options without the NHL, Miles," I whisper to him. "Yeah, I know," he says and then sighs before he pulls himself out of my chest and moves us back so I fall on top of him. I'm laughing when he pulls me into him, kissing me already before I can even catch up.

⛸️

"So that was something," Miles says as soon as he finds me after the game. I'm frowning as I walk over to him, my arms going around him. "You guys did great," I say, pulling him down for a hug. "Even if you feel that you guys didn't."

"I know we won," he says, hands going behind my torso as he brings us closer. "But it doesn't feel celebratory."

I pull away from him and move my hand up to his face. "Go out with your friends," I say with a smile that feels strained because he didn't look too happy. Miles was still stressed about whether he got noticed or not, and since the game is far over and he still hasn't felt happy, I sensed that he didn't. This game was big, and I bet everyone was just busy celebrating it instead of thinking of recruiting. I didn't know what to do, so I only said, "Celebrate with your friends. Think about the game, about how good it felt to get the win, and—"

"It didn't feel good to win," he interrupts me. "I felt jealous of all of my teammates around," he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, it's such an ugly feeling."

"I know," I say with a small shrug. "And I know you are scared, but why don't you forget about it for a night? Just go out and celebrate like you used to."