Defying Him

Chapter Two: Crumbled Bed

A knock from the outer side of my door around seven in the morning woke me up. I am not a heavy sleeper; it is why I do not have an alarm clock or sleep with my phone on focus at night. That annoying knocking remained persistent until I screamed over my voice.

"What do you want, Brayden?"

Oh yes, I am not a morning person.

The door swing open and he walk in while I buried my head under all the excessive pillows I forget to toss out last night.

Brayden is wearing a tracksuit and is holding a cup of coffee when I peep through a little opening I made from the blanket.

"I will like it better if we are talking." He said and sit the cup on the nightstand for me.

"I am not mad at you about last night but I am beginning to, now that you interrupted my sleep." I groaned, and he chuckle, leaning over to kiss my head.

Brayden is only twenty years old, but he lives in a contemporary condominium building above Myles's, with the bonus of a fascinating beach view at every balcony angle. He is the star shooting guard on his team for two years straight, making millions annually and fans all over the world. When he graduated high school, everyone in our town knew he was going to be extraordinary. And he didn't disappoint. He succeeded.

But even with a powerful brother, I didn't get the luxury of his prestige back there, given I joined the high school just as he graduated, so no one cares about the younger sister.

"I am leaving for training. I won't be back until four. Find something to eat." He advised and sits a hundred-dollar bill next to the coffee cup and then he laughs. "Are you even allowed to take coffee?"

"I take coffee since I am fourteen. Get out now or I will blow my morning breath in your face." I threatened, and he playfully sprints away.

When he reached the door, he hesitated, his finger tapping the frame before he sternly says, "Don't get in trouble."

I close the tiny hole I made in the comforter, rolling my eyes at his concern. Is not like I am a stubborn individual.

Given the curtains were thick and the blinds behind them were decent, there were no sun rays to hinder my rest. I cocooned under the blanket in the cool temperature room and fell asleep until I felt my right side jaw twisted to the other side.

Shit!

I jolt up with panic, forcefully blinking my heavy-lidded eyes to find myself swaddled in blankets with my ass on the floor.

Another thing I forget to mention is that I always fall off the bed in my sleep. I might as well kick, but I haven't tried to record myself to confirm that aspect. Thank God, I never had to sleep with anyone though, and how things are going with my imaginary boyfriend, who is probably now tasting wedding cakes with another woman. I don't think I will ever have the shot of sharing a bed with anyone.

Around eleven in the morning, after I showered, I make myself some Fruity Pebbles and sat around the island, chewing one flavor and going through Scarlett Maverick's ** account.

She has over five thousand followers but is only following nine back and all are from her clique. Scarlett Maverick is my classmate, she's the kind with hyper-awareness of her purpose. You can guess, fake blonde hair, a jerk boyfriend from the school basketball team, a standard spoilt brat and drives a Mercedes. The school had always provided her special treatment than it does to the rest of its students because of her family's generous donations every semester.

Right now, looking through her tags, and hell, if jealousy doesn't taste bitter in the throat. Her life is colorful. Bikini, pool party, shopping malls, hats, and heels while I am in California, one of the coolest places in the nation but still looking miserable with a broken heart, consuming sugar in my baggy t-shirt.

I hate my life.

"What's so bad about it?" Asked that heavenly voice.

I jump off the chair and twirl.

Yes, Myles is standing before me in flesh, but what I didn't even believe seeing is too much flesh on his body.

Holy perfection at its finest.

The man is shirtless, wearing black pants that are set at the lowest part of his hips. I can see a carved-out V-line and chiseled abs. And his pectoral... Damn...

"I should go get something to put on from Brayden's closet." He awkwardly implied and then it registers in my head I am gawking.

But do you blame me? He is an angel in a human form.

"Did you sleep here?" I asked him while mortified, but I compose myself when he steered toward my brother's bedroom and I tail after him.

How can muscle flex so flawlessly?

"At my place." He simply answered with his God-like back at me.

"Then why didn't you wear yours there?" I asked when we enter the organized room.

"I don't remember why I don't have any in my closet." He glances back at me and shrugs before freely digging into my brother's outfits as if they were his.

This is crazy.

"You are kidding, right?" I chortled, and he stopped and look over at me with a serious expression.

Wow!

I drop onto the bed that's somehow made. It is as though no one slept on it. How is that even possible? Brayden said there were no home keepers. That we have to do the dishes after we use the kitchen, so why are the pieces of furniture always clean except for my temporary bedroom?

"Can I ask you something?" I asked Myles while he pull out a blue sleeveless shirt.

He nods but holds out his palm. "After you tell me if this shirt fits."

I'd be more than happy to help because I had already sketched how every muscle on his arms and his protruding pectorals would settle in the red wine long sleeve, turtle neck top.

"Try the red one," I suggested, and his eyes narrowed.

"I am going for training, not a date."

"That will hold you. Don't you think it's exposed for a date?" I retorted, and he peer back at the shirt on the hanger skeptically. His hands were on his hips.

The view was to die for. I must be blushing.

When he looks back at me, I immediately clear my throat and straightened my back. Luckily, I didn't drool, but I am sure my face is rosy.

"Okay." He agreed, and bring the material to his head, his hands faultlessly sliding into the sleeves, his abs contracted and his tan skin stretches. I think now I might be drooling.

"You sure?" He shyly smiled while he scans down himself.

I've never been this certain in my life.

"What?" His eyes widened.

I didn't just say that out loud, did I?

"What, what?"

At my fright, he smiles charmingly and pulls off a pair of Nike shoes. Brayden's Nike.

"You wear the same size as my brother?" I asked.

"Let's hope so or I have to buy one today."

I smiled to myself at his joke, knowing he was the most paid player in California.

A few seconds later, he straightened and held up one leg, standing on one. "Smoothly." He winked, and butterflies broke in the pit of my stomach.

My eyes twitch as I drift into a trance where he kneels on one knee and asks me to marry him. With a bonus of giving me a thousand reasons, he realized Autumn wasn't his penguin.

"What do you want to ask me earlier?"

The voice was too close. I heard it in my heart.

Looking up, I found him towering over me. He might wear my brother's shirt, but his scent was so distinct that it travels into my territory. That detailed scent brings me euphoria. We got introduced the first time I meet Myles outside the airport and I stiffened as he warmed me in his body and separated my feet from the soil, only to murder my long-time dreams with the most vicious words a crush could ever utter. He called me, quote; "baby sister."

"Umm?" I gasped.

He didn't let me swallow and comprehend the situation; he wraps a hand around my waist and snatches me out of bed.

Electric spark was what I experience at the contact of his skin. His fingers are warm. I am aware of their existence against the skin of my stomach. The shirt must have bundled somewhere over his hand because he is directly touching my stomach.

When I thought earlier, I felt butterflies. It was nothing compared to the feeling right now.

My breathing hitched. My lips parted to support my respiratory system.

"You wanted to ask me something. What was it?" He muttered. Still holding on to me, some parts of our body glue. I wonder if he is cognizant of our position and if he can feel the spark, too.

My head shakes, and as my stability weakens, I lean into his hold and stare feverishly at the brazen-faced man firmly clutching my waist with a single arm. I couldn't think of anything else but his lips on mine.

How will he taste?

"I can't remember." I honestly respond.

He observes me for a moment until his expression hardens.

"I am sorry about last night."

What? No. I should apologize. I was the irresponsible one.

"I was being rude to Autumn."

"She was being rude, too." He said, and my heart stopped.

He is siding with me. Oh... My... Goal.

While I am mentally celebrating one forward step, and forget to say anything, Myles freed me and an ache from the sudden emptiness tinges my heart.

I look down, in between us, not knowing what to say.

"I am already late, so I better get going." He announced, and I nod just as some idea pops into my head while he sets to exit the room.

"Can I come along?" I pleaded, with my palms pressed together in front of me and my usual tricky-eyed flutters. It normally grants me my requests.

"Brayden wouldn't like that..."

"But I will be bored here alone. I don't know anyone here." I complained.

Myles is tall, like a whole actual tall. Basketball exemplar kind of tall. My head barely reaches his chest. I have to look up to speak to him. I find it comforting.

He heaves a sigh and inhales, appearing to be thinking.

As a hint of a smile pulls on his lips, I gain excitement, knowing he is considering.

"Promise me you will be quiet, as you're my responsibility for taking you along."

Excited, I promised.

"Okay, and arrange Bray's bed as it was before you crumbled the bedding." He instructed. I rolled my eyes but did it anyway while he watched me by the door.

He watches me.

Progress. I was making progress.