Chapter 9
Nine
-GRAYSON-
“There’s a point where you realise that as a friend, you can be sold out for an addiction.” I sip my gin and tonic.
“You’re a good friend,” Milo replies. He’s hardly touched his Midori Illusion. Although he did take a picture of it to post later.
Only two other people are here, a girl in an average dress and a guy in a suit. They’re a bit drunk and I’ve already pointed them out, wondering if she’ll regret this at work tomorrow. Milo mentioned it could lead to romance, but as he watched them, he conceded it was definitely a one-night thing.
We’re seated at the bar. Our barman is at the other end reading a novel. He told us to holler if we need more drinks.
Funky electronic music plays, the type where no one recognises the artist or the tune, but the mood is right.
The perfect background for late night conversation.
The lighting is soft yet extremely purple.
Dark tiles wrap around the bar, but everything, including the wooden floor, is tinted in this secondary hue.
It’s all very bespoke so Milo made sure he took shots when we first arrived. Classy bars get a lot of comments.
“The thing is, I like her,” I continue, conveniently omitting that she came through in the end. “She’s charismatic and her heart is in the right place, until you’re not important anymore because a cocktail is calling.”
“I know how it feels to be second best.”
“Are you talking about Summer?”
He looks away.
“Milo, you’re not second best. I’m sure thousands of followers don’t think so.”
“I only have one thousand six hundred and fifty-two followers.”
“That’s still a lot.”
“Summer has a hundred thousand plus.”
I pause for effect. “Comparison is the thief of joy.”
Milo stares until the phrase sinks in. His smile is heartfelt.
“Can I ask you something personal?” I enquire.
“Go ahead.”
“Why is Summer so special?”
“Perhaps I admire her.” He’s distracted. Something else is on his mind. “Actually, heroes eventually fall. As you’ve found with your friend.”
“Elaborate.”
Milo frowns. “I’m not going to gossip about Summer. All I’ll say is I’ve scratched the surface and seen a more human side to her. She’s vulnerable.”
“It’s good that you know her well.”
He shrugs. “Let’s just say I know her better than she knows herself.”
I consider asking Maude why Penelope treats cocktails with more respect than... what am I to her? She called me a friend, but...?
Then I chuckle because I don’t even know if I’ll ever see Maude again.
“What is it?” Milo asks.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing, and Milo seems adept at reading my face.
The truth is, I need love. And I need friendship. The man in front of me could fulfil both wishes. Yet right now, I’m closer to Penelope, even if I can’t totally rely on her. She knows my secret.
Will Milo stay if he learns my secret too?
I finally have people in my life and both could disappear as quickly as they came.
“You see...” My mum comes to mind. The root problem for my self-inflicted loneliness. “I’m scared of rejection.”
“Who isn’t?”
“But you have Summer, Milo, and a decent number of followers.”
“Maybe a ‘like’ is more permanent, and easier, than making a connection.” He places his hand on mine. He’s getting familiar. It’s time to take a chance.
I kiss him.
This is the most intimate act I’ve experienced for a very long time. And it goes beyond a kiss. I feel valued for who I am.
Our lips part, and I regard Milo. He has the means to be my saviour. But I can’t burden him with that role.
“That kiss wasn’t about love,” Milo says. “I’m only mentioning that because I need to know if you felt what I felt.”
He has a point. I didn’t exactly melt because I held myself back.
I kiss him again. This time, I give in.
Yes! I’m flying. I’m even melting this time. I want this feeling to last forever.
He eventually pulls away. “That’s better.” He smiles that gentle way people do when they’re letting you in.
I saw it in Maude, causing me to promise I’d keep an eye on Penelope. And now Milo is indicating he’s open to more. So, here’s my chance to freefall.
I gently take his hand. “My place or yours?”
––––––––
There are many people in the city, even though it’s late. The temperature has dropped causing me to rub my arms to avoid goosebumps. But then Milo places his arm around my shoulder and cozies up to me.
I burp, then apologise to Milo. Another bout of indigestion. Falling for this man is unsettling me.
But Milo forces a belch. “Gas has to be dispelled. A man is not a balloon.”
I chuckle. “True. But that sounds like a dad joke.”
“It is. My dad said it all the time.”
This date is getting even better, and Milo is more than a romantic partner. He is a friend to clown around with.
I can’t stop gazing at him as we head for the tram stop to take us to my place. The perfect man is with me, and living in the moment is all I want to do.
I glance at landmarks along the way, making sure we don’t head off course. The bells ring at Saint Mary’s Cathedral, and although I’m not religious, I see this as a sign. This majestic structure approves of our affection. And my heart soars higher than a kite.
“Can we walk through Hyde Park, or will that take us in the wrong direction?” Milo asks.
“It will take longer, but I don’t care.” I’m powered by romance right now, not lust.
It feels like I’m floating over the path, between the trees, the lawn, and the garden beds. Who knew I needed love so badly?
Milo reaches around my waist and moves his lips to mine.
My nose twitches and I’m so laidback I don’t consider blocking my sneeze. I just turn my head so none of it lands on Milo.
I feel Milo’s arms on my bare hips. I step back. There’s a draft on my dick. I look down.
On no. This can’t be real.
My cock is exposed, and so is Milo’s. And his is outstanding. Uncut and smooth although he just cupped his hands over it.
And now my secret is exposed. I reach for my pocket to grab my wand but without jeans, all I do is slap my uncovered thigh.
“Why are we naked?” Milo asks.
Many stare. Some take photos.
“Seriously. Where did our clothes go?” Milo is looking in all directions.
More folk stop to ogle us. In a perverse way, I’m relieved Milo doesn’t have a snout or hasn’t turned into a panicked rodent who might rush into traffic. No date should ever be roadkill.
“Halt!”
We turn to see who yelled, and I’m not sure why we were told to halt, when neither of us moved since I sneezed.
A policeman strides toward us. “Just out for a nude stroll, gentlemen?”