Chapter Eleven
Rowan
“I can walk!” Milo rolled his eyes.
I made the saddest face I could muster and reached out for Milo sitting in the passenger seat of my car. “But will you let me carry you, anyway?”
He wiggled his bum. “You’re lucky I like when you carry me around.”
“Just don’t get into accidents over it. I’m happy to do it for no reason whatsoever.” I hoisted him into a bridal hold, kicked the door behind him closed and took the steps into his house.
He dug into the bundle of clothes on his lap and fished out his key. I had to squat with him in my arms for him to reach the lock.
“Still glad you decided to be a hero?” He gave me a smug look.
“Yup.” I straightened up without a grunt. The weight of him was nothing if I felt him safe against my chest.
The house was lived in, with lots of knick-knacks on every flat surface in the living room we entered.
It was clean, but cluttered with mementos and picture frames on the vintage wooden furniture that had been well taken care of.
The bookshelf was filled from floor to ceiling with stories varying from intellectual non-fiction, cookbooks, to romance, all chaotically packed in random order.
“Drop me on the couch there, please.” Milo kissed my cheek. “Or you know what? Straight to the bathroom with my hospital-stinking ass.”
I pivoted from the living room to the white door he pointed at. “You don’t stink.”
“Really?”
“Okay, maybe a little bit of disinfectant and drugs.” I walked through a clean, modern bedroom with a king-size bed with an insane amount of cushions to a bathroom that was small but newly renovated with a bathtub by the wall and sandy tiles all around.
This part of the house contrasted with the nineties-style of the rest. I set Milo on his feet but kept a steadying hold on his arm.
He wobbled and grabbed the sink. “Ugh. I need to pee.”
“I can hold you steady and close my eyes to give you privacy.” What if he fell? Hit his head? “I’ll whistle too.”
Milo snorted and patted my arm. “I’ll sit.” He parted his hospital gown and plopped onto the open toilet. “You can go.”
“Will you let me know when you’re done so I can come back?
Do you need me to get anything? Clothes?
I’m assuming we walked through your bedroom.
Unless you don’t want me touching your things.
I can bring snacks? I mean, if you have any in the house.
We should have stopped at a store on the way. I’ll order something.”
Milo buried his face in his hands.
“Milo?” I knelt in front of him. On the tiles. Next to the toilet. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
He sniffled, lifted his head, and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m fine, just over-reacting. You can stay here if you don’t mind me peeing.”
“I don’t, so I can start the bath.” I opened the tap, closed the drain, and checked the water, letting it pour.
“Okay, I’m done.” Milo tapped me on the arm.
I turned around and swallowed my gasp. Milo had shed his hospital gown, baring his naked body, scratched and bruised all over. Dear gods, he must be in so much pain.
“Careful.” I reached out so he could hold on to me.
“I think the pain-killers are making me unsteady. Or maybe it’s the concussion.”
I took him by the hand and forearm and guided him to sit in the tub. He sighed and lowered himself into the water.
“Is it warm enough?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s perfect. Thanks.” He chewed on his bottom lip, but this time, instead of looking adorable, he looked worried. “Stay? Please.”
“Of course.” I sat on the closed toilet and braced my elbows on my knees, leaning forward toward Milo.
“I missed two days at the cafe.” Milo said through his teeth. “I only do that if I have exams or have to leave town for something important.”
“You had an accident.”
He splashed water on his chest. “You don’t understand.”
“That you’re responsible for the employees and the business because it’s yours?”
Milo turned to me sharply. “Who told you?” He groaned. “You talked to Ethel.”
“Yesterday I overheard some of your clients discussing you buying the cafe. Then it became obvious when I met Ethel at the hospital. You didn’t want me to know?”
Milo shrugged. “I’ve had mixed reactions to it.” He made a face. “You can’t run it properly,” he said in a condescending tone. “You should sell it. It’s a silly dream. It’s too much for you.”
A growl brewed in my chest. “Who said that?”
“Andrew.”
I fucking knew it. “Fuck that guy.”
Milo laid his head back on the edge of the tub. “Have you seen the stack of mail on the table? Those are overdue bills. I’m failing the cafe, Rowan. I am.”
“I don’t believe that. Would you let me go over the numbers with you? When you feel better, of course.”
“Sure. I have so many ideas. But they are either too expensive, or I suck too much to execute them. I burned a pretzel the other day.” He sniffled and wiped his face with a wet hand.
“I took out a loan to do necessary renovations in the cafe, and now it’s biting me in the ass.
Okay, paying for college is weighing me down too. ”
“The cafe is popular. I mean, I can tell you have a rush hour in the morning and it’s fairly quiet the rest of the day, but you’re open late and people love you. How is it not bringing more profit?”
“I’m not gambling or anything, don’t worry.” He glanced at my expectant face and sighed. “Ethel owns half of the cafe, so the profits and her retirement money pay for her stay at Happy Life Senior Home. Well, sort of. The medical expenses and some other stuff cost more than that.”
I was researching the place on my phone as he spoke, my fingers swiping the pictures as I calculated the costs in my head. “There’s no way you can afford that.”
“Yes, I can. I just can’t pay off loans instead.”
“And your own medical insurance.”
“I dropped it a few months ago, yeah. I was supposed to get it again when I sorted some finances. Now the hospital bill will be another thing that will drag me down.”
“We’ll figure it out. I mean, I wanna help you do that.”
“There is no we, Rowan.” He crossed his arms over the side of the tub and rested his chin on it. “There’s me. No one else.”
It hurt my heart that he had no family or friends around to fall back on. “I’m here for now.”
“Temporarily. We didn’t discuss if we were exclusive since we based this—” Milo waved a hand between us, “agreement, on mutual attraction and convenience. No need to look for anyone if we can have each other. But I will be out of commission for a few days. Then I’ll still be bruised and ugly.
” He lifted one shoulder and gave me an apologetic glance.
“What are you talking about? I’m staying here to take care of you.” Did he think I was an asshole? I wanted to wrap him in blankets and hug the life out of him. I would have to wait until he was dry and feeling better to do that.
“Thank you. I’ll never be able to repay you for that, but you don’t need to be here all the time. So once I’m in bed, go have fun or something.”
The idea of seeking out “fun” when Milo was hurt made me sick.
Yes, I felt responsible for his accident. I distracted him. But it hadn’t been my fault. I’d chosen to come here. I had to tell Milo that in a way he would understand I wasn’t doing it from pity or some ridiculous shit like that.
“Listen carefully. I’m alone in Wendigo Hills.
Not counting Troy, who is busy being in love with my sister.
I have enough space in my life for one person, and that is you.
There’s no one else for me.” I swallowed.
“Until the end of summer. Do you understand? I’m here because I want to be here so please don’t take you away from me. Promise me.”
Milo searched my face as if deciding whether I’d meant it, then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”
He dunked underwater, then emerged like a bruised siren, and reached for the soap. Wincing, he washed himself with delicate strokes of the washcloth and rinsed off with the showerhead on the wall.
I wrapped him in two towels and escorted him to the bedroom. He lowered himself onto the bed gently, rummaged in the basket of clean clothes on it, and pulled out a pair of shorts and an oversized Swimming with the Sharks T-shirt.
Once in the living room, we sat on the couch and ordered sushi and ramen for delivery. Apart from the ice cream date, we hadn’t hung out together. Instead of feeling the awkwardness I usually had during hookups, I was comfortable, and hopefully, so was Milo.
He laid back with his legs bent and grimaced but some color was back in his bruising cheeks. He’d be okay. I’d make sure of it.
I ran a finger down his shin and around his ankle. “Put your feet on my lap, if you want.”
He did and wiggled his toes. “You like my feet, huh?”
If he hadn’t been injured, I’d tell him that I appreciated them more than he cared to know. Small and adorable. “I do.” I dug a thumb into the underside of his left foot, along the arch and back.
“This is nice.” He sighed and relaxed against the couch.
“The frames around the house are mostly pictures with one art that reminds me of the cafe logo. I sense a story there.” I kneaded Milo’s feet with a delicate pressure, enough to massage the stress out of him.
“Yeah. When Anabelle and Ethel needed a new logo, they asked me for ideas. So I drew the cappuccino cup with a snake around it for Anabelle being a snake shifter, and the eye floating in it is a cheeky reference to a show we used to watch, and also for Ethel noticing everything.” A soft smile graced his face when he spoke about his aunts.
“They liked the idea, so it became the cafe’s logo. ”
“That’s amazing.”