Milo #4
“It’s just like...pieces,” I admitted, hating that my poor choices that night had led to all this, including my difficulty pulling up the memory I was trying to own up to.
“I know I talked...I don’t know what I talked about; the words aren’t coming to me, but I know I talked.
And all things considered with the pieces of the memory I have, I’m pretty sure I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have said.
..things that are embarrassing as hell for me and were probably uncomfortable as hell for you to have to lie there and listen to. ”
“Well,” he began, then waved himself off as he gestured toward me. “Just...go ahead, we’ll get there, I guess.”
“Wait, what?”
“Milo? Just say what you remember and what you want to say about what you remember, alright? I’ve had time to think about this, but you’re just now getting into it, and I know what that means.”
“What does it mean?”
He smiled a little. “It means you have to ramble until the things coming out of your mouth start making sense to your head.”
I stared at him, caught off guard by the truth, and then frowned. “You know, as great as it is to have someone who understands me, it’s also annoying sometimes.”
“I’m sure,” he said, sipping his beer.
“How would you like it if I said I know you didn’t bring up what happened because you were more worried about how I would feel if you brought it up instead of how you should feel about the entire thing?
Or that you’re letting me talk so you can run it through your head dozens of times to figure out how you actually feel because you always take your sweet time figuring that out? ”
“I’d say you know me quite well.”
“But you’re not annoyed.”
“No.”
“Figures,” I grumbled and squirmed under his expectant gaze. “I...fine! I remember...touching you. Like, it was normal touching at first, I think, at least normal for us, which isn’t all that normal by some people’s standards.”
“I’d say most people’s standards.”
“Whatever, I like touching people I like, what of it?”
“Clearly.”
I could feel my face draining as I stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Sorry,” he said, but the twinkle in his eyes told me he wasn’t all that sorry.
Scowling, I resumed stamping my feet to get the water off the carpet.
“I remember like...knowing it was you, but also forgetting that...well, I guess that things weren’t like that .
I was comfortable and you uh...” Well, he’d felt good as hell, but that probably wasn’t the best thing to throw in there.
“You were there.” Okay, that was a lame fill-in for what was more true, but it would have to do.
“And I just...I don’t know. I kind of got wrapped up in how I was feeling, not like reality.
So I...” Fuck, just say it, “got handsy. I groped you. Oh, and to top it off, I was like...rubbing against you with my...yeah.”
Eli stared at me before snorting. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen someone struggle so hard to talk about sex without actually talking about sex.”
“It wasn’t sex!” I protested, face warmer than I could ever remember it being. “Just...sexual.”
“I think at this point the difference is negligible.”
“I know I don’t have a right to ask for a bone to be thrown my way, but c’mon.”
“Should I joke that it was my bone you were trying to get hold of in the first place?”
“Alright, fuck you for that one.”
Eli laughed, and when I gave him a dirty look to make him stop, he only laughed harder. “C’mon, Milo, one day you’ll look back on this and laugh.”
“That day is not today,” I said, practically rubbing the bottom of my feet raw as I scrubbed at the towel.
“Quit trying to burn a hole in the carpet and come sit down,” Eli said, waving me over. “You look like you’re about to have a coronary.”
“I feel like I am,” I admitted, stopping and probably looking pitiful as I stood there, unsure if I should sit down or keep standing.
Not that there was any reason to stand, it wasn’t like I was planning on bolting for the door.
Well, the idea was a little tempting if I was honest, but I owed Eli a real conversation, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I took off.
So I took a seat, of course, it was as far from him as I could manage without sitting on the floor in the far corner.
The armchair worked just fine as I sat down, holding the bottle of beer between my legs as if its presence might center me.
Eli watched me, and I wanted to slap him when I could see he was trying not to laugh.
“I’m glad you have a sense of humor about this,” I grumbled, taking a quick sip and returning the bottle between my hands.
“Like you said, I’ve had time to think about it, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the middle of a meltdown. The last time was what...when you thought you set the laundry room on fire?”
“Bro, that was valid as hell. Smoke was pouring out of the dryer.”
“You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to freak out about the damage, the danger, or how much longer your punishment would last if you actually burned down the laundry room.”
“Yeah, well, all valid,” I muttered. My panic had been unnecessary because the fire had been small and easily contained.
..and not my fault. It turned out that whoever my mom had brought in for repairs and maintenance on the machines had missed the fact that the wiring on some of the industrial dryers was worn.
Just a spark or two was needed until it finally caught something on fire, and it happened to be during one of the many times I had been put on housekeeping duty for one of my less-than-stellar ideas.
“And just like that time, you’ve got to stop freaking out and assuming the worst because there’s no disaster about to happen,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m just...trying to think of how to approach this.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, but I kept anything else I had to say to myself.
I usually didn’t have a lot of patience when Eli took his time thinking things over, especially when it got in the way of me doing something I wanted.
Not that I necessarily wanted to have this conversation, but goddamn it, it would be nice if we could get it over with and I could sneak off to quietly nurse the embarrassment pulsing inside me.
So I ended up sitting in silence for far longer than I would have preferred, summoning up horrors for how the conversation was going to go and desperately trying to keep the panicked little creature in my head under control.
All I could imagine was him saying that maybe we should consider living separately, or putting in new boundaries to our relationship that had never been there before.
Not that I could have blamed him for either, but the horror of having distance between Eli and me was as awful as it was terrifying.
Finally, he looked up and smirked. “How many doomsday scenarios have you drummed up in your head over the last five minutes?”
Shit, had it only been five minutes? “None.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up.”
He took a deep breath and a drink before clearing his throat, setting every nerve I had on edge all over again as he leaned forward. “So, first things first, quit acting like I’m going to get up from this table and smack the crap out of you.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.” It wasn’t one of the possibilities I’d summoned up, but now that he mentioned it, no... no, that didn’t suit Eli. Violence was never his first choice in anything to do with me. Well, maybe on my behalf, but never directed at me, that much I knew. “No, seriously.”
“Okay, then quit acting like I’m going to lose it and start packing my bags,” he said, and I watched his lips twitch when whatever was on my face gave away that yes, I had definitely considered that a possibility. “Because I’m not.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” I muttered, staring at my feet.
“Well, I’m not. That’s not come into my thoughts once during this whole thing, alright?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you,” I said because I did believe him.
The part of me that was scrambling to come up with the worst possible outcome was not nearly as convinced, but I’d lived with that little bastard in my head for as long as I could remember; he only got a say when I wasn’t paying attention or when I was caught off guard.
I had been caught off guard and was still on an uneven mental footing, but I was in better control of myself now.
“But you can’t possibly be as calm and okay with this as you’re making it sound. ”
“I’m a lot better off than you think I should be.”
“C’mon, you’d have every right.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “And maybe with someone else, I’d feel differently. But it isn’t someone else, so I don’t feel that way about what happened.”
“Fine, then how do you feel?” I asked because we were beating around the bush, and I wasn’t getting any calmer, so it was better to get whatever was going to happen over between the two of us before I actually spontaneously combusted from the sheer pressure inside me.
“Well, I’m having an easier time telling you what I’m not rather than what I am because that’s easier to figure out. Like, I’m not mad. I’m not upset. I’m not second-guessing living here or wanting to go somewhere else. I don’t want to leave you or anything like that.”
“I mean...I guess that takes care of the things that were freaking me out the most, but it doesn’t really help.”
“Which I could probably help with if I knew what I actually felt,” he said with a little shrug. “Which is harder. Because mostly what I’m feeling is… confused.”
I winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s...that’s fair.”
“Well, it was...a lot of information to get told all at once, it’s a lot to process.”
“God save me, what did I say? Because I really don’t remember what I said that night.”
“I...let’s just say it was enough for me to know that you’ve apparently been, uh... into me for quite a while now and that it hasn’t gone away just because we’re older and both been dating.”