Falling: A Fake Dating College Hockey Romance (North University Book 1)
Falling: Chapter 47

MILES

Being crammed into a back booth of a restaurant with my best friends, my sister, and my parents is exactly how I saw tonight going after the championship. The room is buzzing with excitement, laughter, and the faint sound of clinking glasses from the other patrons celebrating their own victories and milestones.

My arm is draped around Wren’s shoulders, her warmth grounding me as I soak in the scene around me. Kennedy and Scarlett are sitting across from us, animatedly recounting their favorite moments from the game despite neither of them being huge hockey fans. Their excitement is contagious, and it’s clear they had a good time.

“To be honest,” Scarlett says, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “I didn’t understand half of what was happening, but seeing Miles score that goal was pretty impressive.”

Kennedy nods vigorously. “Yeah, and that hit you took in the second period? I thought you were done for, but you bounced right back. Like, how do you even do that?”

I chuckle, feeling a swell of pride. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot that you were there. Even if hockey isn’t your thing.”

My parents are beaming with pride when I look over at them. Being with them both today has felt like a dream. It felt like old times when they’d go to mine and Carter’s games and take us out for food afterward.

My dad lifts his glass. “To the North Bears, and especially to you, Miles. You played one hell of a game.”

“To the Bears!” Everyone echoes, raising their glasses.

My sister, sitting next to our dad, smirks at me over the rim of her drink. “So, MVP, how does it feel to be the hero of the hour?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “It was a team effort. Everyone played their hearts out.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Wren chimes in. “You were incredible out there, Miles. I was literally on the edge of my seat the entire time. I couldn’t be prouder.”

I squeeze her shoulder, my heart swelling with gratitude. She put up a hell of a fight to wear my jersey a few months ago, and now she’s wearing it with pride. I can’t wait to rip it off her tonight.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” I say.

As we continue to talk, my mom’s eyes glisten with emotion, and part of me is too afraid to know what she’s thinking. Our relationship has strengthened since her birthday, and I couldn’t be happier. I forgot how good it feels to have my mom in my corner, and I don’t want her to leave there again. “I have to say, Miles, seeing you play tonight, after everything we’ve been through… It’s just… We’re so proud of you.”

My dad nods, his voice thick with emotion. “We really are, son. And Carter would have been too. You did him proud tonight.”

Mentioning Carter brings a lump to my throat, but I manage a nod. “I hope so. This win is as much for him as it is for us.”

The table falls silent for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts about Carter. His loss has been a heavy burden, but tonight, I feel a sense of peace, knowing that we honored his memory with our victory.

It’s not long before the night starts to wear on, and the more alcohol Clara has, the more embarrassing childhood stories she wants to share. If it was any other night, I would have told her to stop by now, but I don’t. We’re all so happy and tired, and it feels too good to ruin some good fun.

Clara teases, “Remember that time you tried to build a hockey rink in the backyard and ended up flooding the lawn?”

I groan, shaking my head. “I was ten, Clara.”

She laughs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, come on, it’s a classic Miles moment. Mom and Dad were so mad, but you were so determined to make it work. You even tried to freeze the water with a fan!”

The table erupts in laughter, and my mom shakes her head. “I remember that. You were convinced that if you just got it cold enough, it would turn into ice. We had to explain the concept of freezing temperatures to you.”

My dad chimes in, grinning. “And don’t forget the part where you tried to recruit Clara to help you carry buckets of water from the kitchen sink. She was just as determined as you were.”

Clara rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because I thought it was a brilliant plan. We were going to have the best backyard rink in the neighborhood.”

Kennedy and Scarlett are laughing so hard they’re nearly in tears. Kennedy wipes her eyes and says, “I wish I could’ve seen that. It sounds like something out of a movie.”

Wren nods. “Definitely. Little Miles, future hockey star, flooding the backyard.”

I shake my head, chuckling. “Alright, enough about my childhood disasters. How about we talk about something else?”

Wren squeezes my hand, a warm smile on her lips. “I think it’s adorable. It shows how passionate you’ve always been about hockey.”

Clara isn’t done yet though. “Oh, and what about the time you tried to make your own goalie pads out of couch cushions and duct tape? You looked like a marshmallow man.”

Everyone bursts into laughter again, and I can’t help but join in. “Those were innovative. I was ahead of my time.”

My dad chuckles. “You were always resourceful, I’ll give you that. And look where it got you. Conference champion.”

The mention of the championship brings a proud silence to the table, everyone reflecting on the journey we’ve been on. I look around at my family and friends, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

There’s no place I’d rather be right now.

WREN

Seeing Miles this happy almost makes me want to cry.

From the annoying hockey hotshot who I met at the party, he’s grown on me. He’s still annoying, but my heart yearns for him sometimes. It feels pathetic when I think about it. Even when I’m with him, like right now, basically sitting in his lap, I still want to be closer to him. If it was possible, I’d sew myself to him so we wouldn’t have to be apart.

Which is probably why I insist on driving back with him, holding his hand the entire time while Kennedy and Scarlett pretend to gag in the backseat. They’ve told me multiple times they feel “violent” when they look at us, and if it wasn’t me in the situation, I’d be grossed out too. I don’t love PDA, but I love being close to Miles. I love it when he brushes his thumb against my hand when he’s driving before he lets go to hold the wheel. Or when he always guides me when we walk with his hand on my back. Or when he grabs my wrists and kisses them like it’s some sort of weird game we have.

I think— no, I know I love him.

It’s a love that scares me, but not because I’m scared it will disappear. It scares me because of how much I want it to last, how much I’ve come to rely on it, how much it means to me. It’s the kind of love that changes everything, but not in the way I feared. It doesn’t tie me down or trap me; it lifts me up and makes me want to be better.

I used to think that love should have another word—something that carries the same weight but doesn’t feel binding. But now I realize that love is supposed to be binding, in the best way possible. It’s a commitment, a promise to be there for each other, to grow together, to face the future as a team.

Miles has shown me a side of love I didn’t believe in before—a love that is steady, supportive, and unwavering. It’s not just about the grand gestures or the fleeting moments of passion; it’s about the everyday acts of kindness, the constant presence, the feeling of being truly seen and understood.

I think about all the times he’s been there for me, always ready with a reassuring word or a comforting embrace. I think about the way he looks at me with a mixture of admiration and tenderness that makes my heart swell. It’s not just that he loves me; he respects me, cherishes me, and wants the best for me.

When we pull up outside my apartment, the girls go in first, and as Miles goes to open the door, I reach for him. He turns back to me, and I grip both of his cheeks, his eyes widening with surprise.

“You’re incredible. You know that, right?” I say, and I hate the way my voice shakes.

He grins. “I know.”

“I’m being serious. You’re genuinely the best person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re being nice to me. Are you sick?” he mumbles.

I roll my eyes, dropping my hands from his face. “No, you idiot, I just mean it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He narrows his eyes at me.

“Does something have to be wrong for me to be nice to you?”

He shrugs. “No, but it’s scary. It’s our whole thing. You pretend to hate me; I pretend like I don’t care. You bully me; I let you. It’s our dynamic. When you’re nice to me, I get worried.”

“That’s stupid,” I mutter, and he just grins. I take in a deep breath. “Well, I’m going to say something really really nice, so here’s a warning, okay?”

He swallows. “Okay.”

“I love you, Miles.” The words leave my mouth with a whoosh, and Miles’s eyes soften as he looks at me intensely. “I should have said it weeks ago, but I didn’t know how to say it, so I’ve just come out with it.” He blinks at me, and more words keep spilling out of my mouth. “You’re my favorite person in this universe, Miles, and if there are any more universes out there, you’d be my favorite in each of those too. You’re my best friend. You make me feel like I’m the smartest person in the room even when I’m not. You made me realize that I don’t want to do things on my own anymore. I want to do things with you.”

My voice cracks on the last word, and I tell myself to hold it together. Miles stares back at me like what I just said was the wrong thing. He takes a deep breath, and instead of responding, he wraps his arm around my neck and kisses me. He kisses me like it’s the first time, and I could drown in him. His mouth moves against mine softly at first, then with growing intensity. It’s like every emotion we’ve both been holding back is pouring out all at once, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. His hands move to cup my face, his touch gentle and reassuring, grounding me in this moment.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless. Miles rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, and I can see the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He opens his eyes and looks at me with a mixture of tenderness and wonder.

“I love you, Amelia Wren Hackerly,” he says quietly, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You’re my best friend, and I love being around you. I love being there for you and protecting you even when you don’t want me to. I don’t just love you, I’m in love with you. So desperately. I don’t think I would ever be able to stop loving you. If you try to push me away again, I won’t let you. Because I’m in this, okay? Me and you.”

I try to breathe, but it’s hard. His words are like a balm to my soul, soothing all the fears and insecurities I’ve been carrying for so long. I feel my eyes well up with tears again, but this time, they’re tears of relief and overwhelming happiness.

“I don’t want to push you away,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I was so scared, but now… now I know. I know that I want you in my life, forever, if you’ll have me.”

He pulls me into a tight embrace, his warmth seeping into my bones, grounding me in the reality of this moment. “Forever sounds perfect to me, princess,” he murmurs against my hair.

There’s something about the severity of his voice that makes me realize that I won’t have to spend another day guessing my worth. That every day can be a great one if I let it. And I want to spend all of those days with him.