5. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Branson
Meet new people. Listen to them, bond over the things you have in common, but appreciate the ways you are different.
M y phone vibrated in my pocket, but I didn’t rush to answer it, knowing exactly who it was. I was too focused on watching my new roommate playing a game of pool against some of my colleagues. The bar was busy, bustling with the after work crowd, indie rock ballads played over the speakers and I hummed along while watching as Milo sank a ball, a smile of satisfaction appearing on his face.
Milo had moved in six weeks ago and it became very clear, very quickly that besides his sister, he had no friends or at least none he ever saw or talked about. His daily routine consisted of him going to work, coming home, cooking, cleaning and then spending an hour on the sofa before heading to bed. Some nights I'd join him in the lounge, and we would chat while partially watching a true crime drama and arguing over which of us would be better at covering up a hypothetical crime. On the weekends, he would often join me in a Vampire Diaries marathon which we would binge over various takeouts and snacks. It turned out he was team Stephan, but I wouldn't hold that against him. Much.
If I was heading out with friends, I’d extend the invite, but he always declined. Until finally, I'd convinced him to join me at a local bar for a few beers and games of pool. His reluctance was evident in the heavy set of his shoulders and the blown out ‘fine’ he gave me when he relented but, I was undoubtedly very persistent.
My previous housemate had always been up for a night out. Becka was a lovely lady who worked at the airport but had moved because she had taken a job in another state. I was sad to see her go. We had just clicked from the day I moved in. She liked to party, made a killer taco salad and owned the cutest pet lizard, which she kept in her room but that she carried around with her when she was home. I’d worried about who would replace her, concerned that I would end up living with someone with a bad habit or dirty toenails or someone who took issue to my stunning collection of mugs and blankets.
I thanked my lucky stars when Milo walked in - even if he had barged in unexpectedly, scaring the ever loving shit out of me. He had kind eyes - a light brown with soft lines around them - and when he smiled, it was genuine, none of those fake pretentious things I had seen on so many of the men I had met since moving here. He was big, but not intimidating and I wanted so badly to know what it would feel like to hug him.
His sister, Mia, was an added bonus. She had been over a few times since he’d moved in, and I adored her. She was quick and witty, and she gave him shit all the time. I lived for it. They bickered nonstop and it made me feel warm inside because it was done with love and reminded me so much of my relationship with August.
In short, Milo was the perfect roommate. He cleaned but didn’t move my stuff, he placed his few personal belongings around the house, putting his own stamp on the place but did it without fussing about the lack of space I left for him.
He prepared meals for us, took out the garbage and, every night he folded all of my blankets, positioning them in a neat pile on the sofa. What he didn’t do though, was talk much about himself. I knew next to nothing about Milo Montague, other than that he was the older sibling, he was a tattoo artist and he liked cats. His quietness didn’t bother me, but I was sure there was something he didn't want to share. Something about his life he kept guarded. And that was okay, he'd open up to me if he wanted to. For now, I would gather what little information I could about him and store them like little scraps of treasure.
As Milo bent over the table, readying himself to take a shot, I let my gaze rake over his body. He had black hair, cut short on the sides but longer and styled into spikes on top, now covered in a backwards ball cap. His arms, naked in a black sleeveless shirt were covered in tattoos and, his legs, clad in dark blue denim, were long and toned, and his ass…. I looked away, not letting myself gawk at how incredibly gorgeous it was - how gorgeous he was. He was mouthwatering, spine tingling, cartoon hearts in the eyes gorgeous.
I wasn't going there. Not only did I not know for sure if he was even interested in men (even if he did blush so beautifully when he had my underwear in his hand, I wasn't one to presume), he was my roommate and I didn't want to mess that up. I liked living with him, I liked the comfortable way in which we existed in the same space. Milo was staying firmly in roommate territory even if my heart hated the idea of keeping him at a distance.
And besides, there was still the matter of the man currently blowing up my phone.
With a small chuckle to myself, I pulled it from my pocket and opened the text chain, which showed I had three new messages.
Asshole Adonis: Kitten, why are you ignoring me tonight?
Asshole Adonis: When can I take you out?
Asshole Adonis: I am ten seconds away from sending you a dick pic.
I laughed at the last message. It’s not that I was ignoring Noel, I had responded to the deluge of messages he had sent me over the last four weeks. I just wasn’t giving in to his charm. What happened between us in that bathroom was hot. Hot and unexpected. But Noel wasn’t the settling down type - that's what I'd heard August say once - and I wanted to settle down. I was tired of the constant dating, the revolving door of unsuitable men who didn’t share my values or hopes or dreams. I could appreciate a good fuck - like I did that night - but I wanted more. And from what I knew about Noel - from what August had told me - Noel was a player, a fly by the seat of his pants kind of hookup.
And while the idea of playing hard to get - making him chase me until I finally gave in - sounded thrilling, the inevitable surrender bound to be oh so sweet, I was standing my ground. Noel was in the friend zone. I wouldn’t be waving any white flags. So for the past four weeks, while we had exchanged messages and calls, I had put off accepting his offer to take me out. Though the more we spoke, the more I wanted to see him. I would just need to reiterate that we were only friends. No repeats allowed.
Me: I’ll let you take me out, but it’s going to cost you.
Asshole Adonis: I’ll pay the price. Any price. Name your motherfucking price, kitten.
Me: One hundred thousand dollars.
Asshole Adonis: DONE
Me: You’re an idiot. I wasn’t being serious.
I sent off the text, placing my phone down, then rested my arm on the bar, watching as Milo shook my colleague, Jennifer's hand, before strolling back over and taking the seat next to me.
“Good game?” I asked and he nodded, reaching for his half-full beer.
“I lost, again, but it was fun. I need to practice if I’m to stand a chance at beating Jen. Do you want a game?”
“I would prefer not to embarrass myself this evening, thanks. I have zero hand eye coordination when it comes to the cue and ball.”
“You play rugby though, don’t you? I don’t know much about the sport but presumably you’d need some coordination to be good at it?” Milo turned in his chair, his knees brushing against mine. Dimples appeared in his cheeks as his face settled into a smile. Dimples were officially a weakness for me.
“Ha! You would think, but no. I’m good at rugby because I’m fast. Fast and nimble. Also, we play friendly games of touch rugby, I don’t even know if we use proper rules. Speaking of which, you should come and join us one weekend,” I suggested.
“I’ve never played it before. If I’m honest, I’ve never even watched a game. I may suck at it as much as you do at pool.” Those dimples appeared again, and my focus was, for a brief second, drawn away from our conversation.
“You don’t know what you’re missing! Real rugby games are so fucking thrilling. Okay, I’m adding it to my ‘things for Milo and Branson to do together’ list.”
Milo tipped his head, raising an eyebrow at me as he asked, “You keep a list like that?”
“Well, it’s not written down, but sure. I have plenty of lists. Places to visit. Foods to try. Musicians to see live in concert.” Thinking of the well-worn letter I kept securely in my wallet, my dad’s smiling face came to mind and my heart squeezed at the memory of the promise I had made him. The one that started my list making in the first place. To live a life full of adventure.
“And ‘things for Milo and Branson to do together’,” Milo said, his eyes meeting mine. In the dim light of the sports bar, his brown irises were a deeper shade than usual, but I could still make out golden tints in them. “What exactly is on this list?”
“So far, a rugby match, to finish all the seasons of The Vampire Diaries , a helicopter tour of New York City, baking classes, to eat a cronut and take Milo to a bar.”
Milo laughed; a deep, hearty sound that made bubbles of excitement erupt in my chest. “Well, you can tick one of those off your list.” He gestured his arm around the bar. “As for the rest, I have questions, but they all sound good. Count me in.” He turned to face the pool table again, and I did the same. Two of my colleagues were locked in a heated argument over the game, the one holding the eight ball in his hand like he’d won it at a country fair.
“I’m really glad I came out tonight. Thank you for the invite.” He knocked his shoulder against mine and the heat radiating off his body did not go unnoticed, nor did his scent - pepper, cedarwood and a hint of sweat. Fuck me if the combination didn’t make me want to drool like a rabid dog. Roommate territory, Branson. Right .
“I’m glad you relented, even if I had to drag you kicking and screaming.” I shot him a smirk, making sure to waggle my eyebrows when I did.
"Oh, please,” he started, resting both arms on the bar behind him while he surveyed the people around us, “as if you could drag me anywhere.” My eyes took in the muscles in his arms, bulging from the way he was holding himself up. Maybe he had a point, but still…..
“Hey!” I smacked him on said muscles. “Are you implying I’m weak?”
“Not at all, I’m implying you’re small.” He winked at me then and I knew he was just trying to rile me up, having heard me mutter profusely when August told me Noel had called me little. I believe my exact words had been something along the lines of “stupid fucking asshole, I’ll show him little.” Or something else equally nonsensical.
“Ha ha hardy ha,” I deadpanned as my phone vibrated from its spot on the bar next to me. We both looked at it as the screen lit up with yet another message from Noel.
Asshole Adonis: So is that a yes? Also, dick pic incoming in 5…..
I snatched up my phone, hoping Milo hadn’t seen the message and laughed to myself when I read the next one.
Asshole Adonis: Fuck the countdown, here’s the picture.
The message was followed by a picture of a…. rooster? What the fuck was Noel up to. I got my answer a few moments later.
Asshole Adonis: I sent you a cock pic, not a dick pic. I’ll see you on Friday?
“Boyfriend?” Milo asked, his head tilted in question, his eyes on the phone in my hands.
“Oh no, definitely not. Just a friend.” A very persistent friend who I once fucked and who I was sure wanted to fuck me again. I kept that titbit of information to myself as Milo continued to study me. I could feel the goofy grin on my face, but was powerless to wipe it off.
Me: Fine. I’ll send you my address. But Noel, this is a friend date. Nothing more.
“Ok-ay.” The way Milo stretched out the word made it clear he didn’t believe me. Not much I could do about that, but it was the truth.
Look at me. I had two hot guys in my life, and both had been relegated to the no go zone. That’s some grown up shit right there. I should pat myself on my back for my maturity. Or possibly kick myself in the shin.