Page 49 of Fragile (Cedar Lakes University #2)
Chapter forty-eight
Quinn
Seb’s voice cuts through the noise, louder than anyone else’s. He’s got Hudson in a headlock, both of them grinning like idiots as the rest of the team surrounds them, cheering and whooping. It’s pure chaos, but the best kind.
“Look at those idiots,” Indie says beside me, shaking her head but grinning. She’s leaning against the wall, a drink in her hand, looking as relaxed as I’ve ever seen her. “You’d think they’d never won anything before.”
“I think this win meant more to them,” I reply, catching Seb’s eye as he spins Hudson around like they’re in the middle of some strange, football-themed waltz. He shoots me a wide grin, and I can’t help but laugh.
Indie nudges me with her elbow. “So, where’s your boyfriend?”
I glance around the room, searching for Miles in the sea of faces. It doesn’t take long to find him—he’s on the other side of the room, talking to one of his teammates. But even from across the room, he feels close. No matter how far apart we are.
“There he is,” I say as I nod in his direction. As if sensing my gaze, Miles looks up and catches my eye. The smile that spreads across his face sends a flutter through my stomach, the kind that I’ve felt for so long, but to see him reciprocating the same look makes it feel so much more intense.
Indie follows my gaze and smirks. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile. “Says the girl who’s literally glowing every time my brother looks at her.”
She laughs and takes a sip of her drink. “Touché.”
Minutes turn into hours as the guys enjoy their win.
The energy in the room is infectious, and I find myself bouncing from one conversation to the next, soaking in the joy that seems to radiate from everyone around me.
At some point, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to find Miles standing there, a soft smile on his face.
“Hey, baby,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the noise.
“Hey,” I reply, my heart doing that little flip it always does when he’s near.
“You wanna get out of here for a bit? I have something I want to show you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Sure. What is it?”
His smile widens, but there’s a nervous edge to it. “You’ll see.”
I glance over at Indie, who waves me off with a knowing smile. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’m just waiting for your brother or Hudson to break something, preferably not a body part, and then I can go home.”
With a laugh, I let Miles lead me out of the crowded dorm and into the quieter hallway. The noise of the party fades as we walk down the corridor. We reach his room, and he pauses for a moment before unlocking the door and taking a deep breath, which only makes me more curious. When he pushes the door open, I step inside, the familiar scent of his room wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
Miles follows me in, closing the door behind us. He walks over to his desk and picks up a wrapped package. Turning to me, he holds it out with that same nervous smile.
“I made something for you,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.
I stare at the package in my hands, my heart skipping a beat as I feel its weight. He’s never been the type to make grand gestures, so this catches me off guard. His hands are shaky, and that only makes my chest tighten even more.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, my voice softer than I intended, trying to keep the surprise out of it.
“I wanted to,” he says, his reply immediate, almost like he’s been holding it in for a while.
My fingers linger on the edges of the wrapping, and for a moment, I can’t even focus on what’s inside. All I can think about is how much this means—how much he means.
I carefully unwrap it, the brown paper crinkling under my touch, and as the last layer falls away, my breath hitches in my throat. It’s a scrapbook, bound in a way that I’ve never seen before, definitely more professional than the ones we make at our club. This one has my name engraved on the cover in elegant script. My fingers move almost involuntarily, tracing the letters of my name as if to confirm that they’re real, that this book is really meant for me.
“Miles…this is...” I swallow, trying to find the words.
He smiles, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Open it.”
Flipping open the book, the first thing I see is a Polaroid of us from when we were kids. We’re standing in front of the old treehouse in my backyard, both of us grinning like we’ve just conquered the world. I’m looking up at him, my hair tied into braids, face covered in mud. His arm is slung around my shoulders and he’s just as filthy as me. I remember that day so clearly—how we’d spent hours completely lost in our own little world.
And then at some point, I scrapped my knee, and he carried me inside, and looked after me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever known. I knew I felt something so strong for him then that I’d never be the same again.
That day changed everything.
As I flip through the pages, more memories unfold before me—pictures of us at school when I’d finally caught them up being a year later, notes we’d written to each other over the years, ticket stubs from movies we’d seen together. Every page is a reminder of how much we’ve shared, how deeply intertwined our lives have always been.
“Ever since Mom passed, I had this keepsake box, and last year, I brought it to my dorm.” He inhales sharply. “Well, I found so much of you inside it, of us, of our childhood. And after you showed me your scrapbook the other day, I knew I needed to show you mine.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I reach the last page, which holds a photo of us from just a few weeks ago, on his bed, and I’m looking at him in the exact same way I did in the first picture.
“Miles, this is… I don’t even know what to say.”
Stepping closer, he takes the scrapbook from my hands and sets it on his desk. His fingers brush against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me.”
I look up at him, my heart swelling with so much emotion I can hardly breathe. “You mean everything to me too, Miles. You always have.”
He smiles, that crooked, boyish smile that never fails to make my heart race. “I’m not letting you go, ever, Queenie.”
And then he’s kissing me, his good hand gently cupping my face as he holds me closer.
I melt into him, my hands sliding up to wrap around his neck as I press myself against him. His lips are soft and warm, and the way he’s kissing me—slowly, deeply—makes me feel like I’m the only thing that matters to him in this moment. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
When we finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other’s. Miles looks into my eyes, his gaze so adoring it’s like he’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment. “I might have one more surprise for you.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Another one?”
He nods, tugging at my hand gently, guiding it under his shirt. My fingers skim over the hard ridges of his abs, each muscle firm beneath my touch. My breath catches as I explore, the heat of his skin seeping into my palm. But then, I reach a spot that feels different—smooth and unfamiliar, like plastic. I pause, frowning, trying to understand what I’m touching.
“What is that?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
He doesn’t answer right away, just looks down at me, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips. Slowly, he lifts his shirt, revealing a tattoo covered over with plastic wrap that I’ve never seen before. My eyes land on the design—a queen’s crown inked over his left pec, bold and intricate.
My heart skips a beat as I take it in, my fingertips grazing over the ink. “You...got this for me?” I ask, my voice shaky, half disbelieving.
He lets out a light laugh, his eyes never leaving mine. “Who else would it be for, Queenie?”
My heart swells as I trace the crown again, barely able to breathe. “You’re insane,” I whisper, looking up at him, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through my chest.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers, his voice shaky but certain.
My heart swells to the point where I think it might burst. I’ll truly never get tired of hearing those words from his lips. “I love you too. So much.”
He kisses me again, and I know that whatever happens next, whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together. Because this—what we have—is real. It’s solid, and it’s ours.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.