All Chapters of My Bruised Heart: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MILES "Miles," a voice whispered, deep and husky, tinged with the unmistakable scent of liquor. I furrowed my brows and took a deep, sleepy breath, hovering between dreams and consciousness. "I shouldn't be in here," he murmured, his breath fanning against my ear, warm, heady. "I shouldn't want you..." A hot, heavy hand gripped my knee, sliding past my thigh, his thumb dipping beneath the fabric of my shorts. "...but I just can't help myself." Then I felt him. His solid chest pressed against my back, his strong thigh slotting between mine. His scent wrapped around me—sandalwood and something darker, something forbidden. Dominic. He was in my bed. Excitement coiled deep in my belly. I should have woken up. I should have gasped, turned to face him, asked him what the hell he was doing. But I didn’t. I wanted to know just how far he would go. How much restraint he had left. Or if he had any at all. So I stirred, arching into him in encouragem

MILES The clock on my nightstand read 4 a.m. I went ahead and dragged myself out of bed. It would be no use trying to fall back asleep. Today was Monday, which meant it was the first day of university, and I'd be riding with Dom. I had stayed out of his sight the rest of last week, my mother's too, using the excuse of having a stomach bug. I was able to avoid dinner as well. Maverick himself brought up soups for stomach aches. "You should still eat," he'd tell me. "Give your body the strength it needs to fight the sickness." His kindness still threw me off. I didn't know how to react but to give him small, unsure smiles and little "thank you's." It was starting to give me a guilty conscience about fucking his son. And then kissing him. And then having sex dreams about him. I didn't want a guilty conscience about any of it. While I waited for my shower to warm, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. My skin was paler than it had ever been, my lips cracked, and t

DOM First-day classes were a drag. I could hardly concentrate on anything, and it pissed me off that I was disappointed about not having any classes with Miles. I shouldn’t have been. I was trying to stay away from her anyway. The confusion invaded my mind all day like a sickness with no cure. I didn’t even know how I survived afternoon practice. Coach had us running drills like we had personally offended his ancestors. I was lucky to walk off the field in one piece, considering the glares of death I got from my teammates. By the time I got home, dinner had already started. Miles wasn’t at the table. My father’s sharp gaze flicked to me. "Where is Miles?" Ms. Valentine looked up from her wine glass, her expression unreadable. I frowned. "She's not in her room?" My father shook his head, his voice losing its usual warmth. "No. When I sent for her to come down for dinner, I was informed she hadn’t arrived home yet. Why is she not with you?" Shit. That tone? That meant I

MILES I was already in the kitchen by 3 a.m., waiting. Waiting for the day to start. Waiting for Dominic. Waiting to feel something. The coffee in my hands should have been a comfort, but it was just there. No warmth. No taste. Just another thing I was holding onto because it was expected. Last night had been... fucked. I hadn’t slept. My body ached with the deep, burning throb of fresh wounds, but my mind was worse. My mother had told me to steer clear of Maverick, yet she kept me locked in his house. The contradiction clawed at my brain. What the fuck did she want from me? Rage had bubbled up inside me, raw and violent, but it only made me angrier because what the fuck could I do with it? Nothing. I could do nothing. By the time Dominic walked in, I had already drained my cup, but it did nothing to clear my head. He was wearing gray sweatpants slung low on his hips and a plain black tee, his dark hair still tousled from sleep. Normally, I would have savored the sight, let my m

MILES "Do we eat free or something?" I asked, stepping into the retro diner Marcus brought us to. It was called The Dine and Dash, and I was in love with it instantly. The walls were lined with colorful, vintage décor, the cozy booths were plush with upholstery, and the checkered floor gleamed under the lights. A jukebox sat in the corner, playing an old tune, and even the waitress was in a poodle skirt. This place had character. I scooted into a booth, Marcus sliding in beside Dom across from me. My eyes scanned every inch of the diner, taking in the warmth of it. "Do you like it that much?" Marcus asked, amusement lacing his tone. I nodded, unable to wipe the grin from my face. Dom cleared his throat, and if I didn't know better, I'd say his ears turned red. “What’ll it be, darlin’?” The waitress asked, clicking her pen against the pad. She had bold red lips, black hair in a high ponytail, and a southern drawl that felt completely at home here. “We’ll have the dou