Chapter 7
June
UntitledI scanned the street in front of Honeybee Books twice, my heart sinking with each sweep of my eyes. No motorcycles. No broad-shouldered Milo with his infectious laugh. No Xavier staring at me like he wanted to devour me. Just empty curb space where they should have been.
The absence of their bikes felt like a statement, a billboard-sized declaration that whatever had happened between us wasn’t worth repeating. Totally fine. I wasn’t here to see them anyway. I was here for... books. Obviously.
But where had they gone? It hadn’t felt like a one-night stand. It had felt like... something else. Something important. Something I couldn’t quite name but couldn’t stop thinking about either.
I pushed open the bookstore’s front door. The familiar bell jingled overhead, the sound almost mocking in its cheerfulness. The scent of paper and honey-lavender tea enveloped me.
I wandered through the aisles without any real destination, trailing my fingers along spines I wasn’t seeing, taking comfort in the texture of books quietly clicking under my fingernails.
My brain kept replaying Tuesday night in vivid detail—Milo’s mouth between my thighs, Xavier’s hands in my hair, the way they’d moved together around me, inside me.
“Anything in particular you’ve been wanting?” Jamie’s voice startled me out of my sex trance, and it took me a minute to remember my bookstore script. There were only three steps: tell her I’m browsing, ask about new books, and make a comment about the weather.
“Just looking.” I cleared my throat. “Anything new in?” “Not yet, but I have a shipment of fun motorcycle club romance on the way.” Shit. She went off script. The weather comment wouldn’t make sense. “Ah,” I said, fidgeting with the sleeves of my cardigan.
Jamie gave me a knowing smile. “Those motorcycle boys haven’t been around since Tuesday, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. Tuesday. The day I’d invited them home with me.
“They’ve still been posting, though, so it’s still good for business,” Jamie continued, oblivious to my internal panic. “They’re going viral on TikTok.”
I grabbed a random book from the shelf—something with a shirtless cowboy on the cover—and headed to the register.
Jamie rang up my purchase with a curious look. “If you see those bikers, tell them they’re welcome any time.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As I turned to leave, I realized I hadn’t even asked about her day or commented on the weather or done any of the small-talk rituals that neurotypical people seemed to expect. But Jamie knew I was autistic so hopefully she wouldn’t hold it against me.
As I walked home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d somehow failed a test I hadn’t known I was taking.
At least, not until I spotted the motorcycles. They were both parked in front of my house like they belonged there. My heart leapt into my throat, choking me with a mixture of disbelief and wild hope.
Xavier and Milo weren’t at the bookstore, because they were here. At my house. Waiting.
As I got closer, I saw them lounging on my porch steps like they owned the place.
Milo sat on the top step, elbows resting on his knees, his dark hair catching the afternoon sun as he fiddled with his phone.
Xavier leaned against the porch railing, one boot propped on the lowest step, arms crossed over his chest in that way that made his biceps strain against his leather jacket. They both turned as I approached.
“Hey, June,” Milo called, dimples flashing as he smiled. Xavier just nodded, those storm-gray eyes watching me with an intensity that made me warm all over.
I stopped at the foot of my own porch steps, staring up at them. My brain scrambled to process their presence, to reconcile it with the narrative I’d been constructing for the past two days. The words tumbled out before I could filter them.
“Was the sex so bad you needed to come back and yell at me or something?”
Milo barked out a surprised laugh, his eyes widening. Xavier’s eyebrows shot up. Why was my mouth always three steps ahead of my brain’s quality control department?
“What?” Milo asked, still laughing, though his eyes had softened with something like concern.
He stood, descending the steps until he was right in front of me, close enough that I could smell his leather jacket and that spicy cologne that had clung to my sheets for hours after they’d left.
“June, why would you think the sex was bad?”
I stared at him, unable to form a coherent response. My eyes darted to Xavier, who had straightened from his casual pose, his attention fully on me now.
“It was hot as fuck,” Xavier said, his voice low and rough in a way that sent shivers down my spine. “Like, top five, easily.”
“Top five?” Milo scoffed, shooting him a look. “Try top one, man.” He turned back to me, his expression earnest. “Seriously, June. It was epic. Amazing.”
“Then why did you leave?” The question escaped before I could stop it.
“I mean, you both just... left. Right after. No talking, no... cuddling or whatever.” I closed my eyes briefly.
“The thing is, I’m autistic, and sometimes I miss cues, and sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain, especially when I’m nervous or confused, which I definitely am right now because you’re both here after disappearing for two days, and I’ve been convinced I did something wrong—”
“Autistic?” Milo interrupted, his brow furrowing.
“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin slightly.
“Autism is different for everyone, so if you have questions, just ask. I don’t mind.
” “I do have a question,” Milo said. “Did we fuck up?” “I mean, I do better with clear communication, but I can’t fault your communication when mine was also lacking.
” I grimaced. “But if you’d told me the sex was great and you were heading out for a reason, not fleeing the scene of a sex disaster, that would’ve helped a lot.
”“Definitely not a sex disaster,” Xavier said, chuckling.
“Or we wouldn’t be back, begging for more.
What else can we do?”“Checking in with me and asking for consent helps me manage sensory input. You two were naturally doing that, asking if it was okay to kiss me or letting me take the lead. That was good. And I like steps, and routine, and I’m not super fond of surprises.
” “So dropping by your porch unannounced…” “Not ideal. But I’m happy to see you.
” I ducked my chin and blushed, fidgeting with my necklace.
“Happy you didn’t hate the sex.” Milo’s voice softened.
“So in the spirit of getting this right.” He hovered a hand near my cheek.
“Can I touch you?”“Yes.” His rough thumb brushed my cheekbone, the texture grounding me.
“That feels good. Your skin texture feels good.”He smiled.
“Have you been worrying since Tuesday?”“Maybe. A little.”“Only a little?”“Fine. A lot.”“June, we left because…” He glanced at Xavier, who frowned.
“I don’t know, I guess we talked about it being a fling, a one-time thing, and didn’t want to overstay our welcome. We figured you’d want your space back.”
“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to me at all. I’d been so caught up in my own insecurities that I hadn’t considered they might have their own. “I do sometimes need space. But after sex, I actually would have preferred... I mean, next time, if there is a next time, I’d like to cuddle. ”
Xavier opened his mouth, but Milo cut him off before he could speak. “Done,” he said firmly, giving Xavier a look I couldn’t interpret. “Absolutely done. Cuddling is officially on the menu. I love a good cuddle. X, maybe not so much.”
Xavier snorted and muttered something about a golden retriever before his face settled back into its usual mask of careful neutrality. I wasn’t sure what it meant but I filed that observation away, a puzzle piece to examine later.
“So...” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “You’re here because...?”
“We want to fuck,” Xavier said.
Milo rolled his eyes. “Sorry about his bluntness. We talked about it and decided we wanted to see you again.”I smiled. “I like his bluntness. And your kindness.” “We had fun with you, and we were hoping you were up to hang out again. If you’re interested,” Milo said.
Was I interested? My body had already answered that question, heat pooling low in my belly at the mere prospect of being between them again.
But this time with cuddling after. This time with the knowledge that they’d actually enjoyed themselves, that I hadn’t somehow failed at sex.
This time with clear communication established.
“I’m very interested,” I said, relieved to finally have something straightforward to say. “Extremely interested. One hundred percent interested.”
Milo’s smile widened, and even Xavier’s lips twitched upward at my enthusiasm. Milo extended his hand toward me, an invitation. “Then what are we waiting for?”
I took his hand without hesitation, letting him lead me up the steps of my own porch. Xavier pushed off from the railing, moving to my other side as we approached the door. I fumbled for my keys, hyperaware of their presence, of the anticipation crackling between us like electricity before a storm.
“By the way,” I said as I unlocked the door, “Jamie at Honeybee Books says you’re welcome back anytime. She’s considering offering to pay you for appearances.”
Xavier groaned.
Milo tilted his head. “Might consider that.”
“Not until after the sex. Don’t distract him,” Xavier said. “Once he starts working on our social media, we’ll never get his attention back on us.”