Milo #2
They left, with Mason looking disappointed as he followed them, clearly not pleased that his plan was being thrown in the trash.
Not that he would say anything, of all the people in the family, Micah was the one person Mason would bend over backward for.
Not that he was stubborn about helping the rest of us, but our nephew generated a fascinating sort of.
..gentleness that wasn’t easy to describe.
“At least someone knows how to make Mason behave,” Dom snorted, picking up his glass and taking a drink. “Now...how awkward is this going to be?”
Arlo eyed Dom, looking faintly amused. “I’m trying to figure out if you would stay because it’s going to be awkward or if you’d leave because of it.”
“Depends,” Dom said, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Milo have a meltdown.”
“Bro,” I grumbled, shooting what I hoped was the dirtiest look imaginable, but knowing it wouldn’t matter.
Arlo was the calmest of us, but Dom was so laid-back I couldn’t recall a time recently that he had lost his temper.
Not that it wasn’t possible, but I seriously could not remember when I had seen him lose his temper.
Mad and irritated? Yeah, but he was even more willing to take things as they came than either Mason or Eli, which was saying something.
“What can I say?” he asked with a shrug. “My life is boring without a little family drama.”
“You literally…” I began and stopped when Eli gave my thigh another squeeze. It was also a warning, but I took it to mean I was taking the bait. Huffing, I turned my attention back to my mom. “So?”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked wryly. “It was a weekend of fun that wasn’t supposed to go past that weekend, but then you came along, which has proven to be better than anything that happened that weekend.”
“Buttering me up isn’t going to make me less irritated,” I told her even if anyone with half a brain and a halfway decent knowledge of me could see her words actually touched me. Not enough to make me suddenly forget I was annoyed, but enough to tone my anger down slightly.
“Is it buttering up if it’s the truth?”
“Mom.”
She sighed. “What do you want me to say, Milo? That I didn’t know I was pregnant, to tell him about his son until it was too late?
I didn’t even know his last name. And then he showed up one day and said he would be there for you.
That lasted about two weeks before he disappeared.
And yes, before you ask, that was a pattern for the first four years of your life.
I didn’t see it until much later, but he would never change and stick around.
So I told him that if he left, he needed to stay left.
He tried a few times after that, but after the last time, he finally gave up pretending. ”
“Four years?” I wondered, thinking hard about that. No, I had no memories attached to him at that age. As far as I knew, I hadn’t seen him until I was fully grown.
“That was about the age when you were paying more attention, starting to notice things more,” she said with a sigh and took a drink.
“The last time, when I warned him, he was around for a couple of weeks, and it was obvious you were...attached. When he left, just like I knew he would, I watched you cry your little heart out when you realized he wasn’t coming back.
That was that as far as I was concerned.
I’d rather be the only parent you knew than make you deal with a parent who didn’t know what he wanted.
..least of all if he wanted to be a part of your life. ”
Okay...well, that definitely took the sting out of my tail, and I could feel myself deflating.
It was hard to argue with her logic. In her shoes, I would have made the same choice.
I’d dealt with enough people in high school and college to know what the infrequent presence of a parent could do to a person.
The uncertainty, the inherent lack of security and trust, and the constant hope followed by the inevitable, painful crash when disappointment hit.
“So...why keep it from him once he was an adult?” Eli asked, and I perked up at that, grateful he had been thinking.
She gave him a searching look before sighing and shrugging.
“The same reason as when he was younger. Just because he’s grown doesn’t mean he’s not my son.
None of you stopped being my kids. And the last thing I want is to put you in the path of something that will hurt you, or help you put yourselves there. ”
“You make him sound awful,” I said with a frown.
“No,” she said firmly, holding up a hand. “I am not saying he’s a bad person...it’s not like I knew him well enough to know if he was good or bad. But you don’t have to be a bad person to hurt others; sometimes, being a good person makes the pain you cause even worse. Marshall is...well, he’s?—”
I searched her face and found her uncomfortable with whatever was flitting in her head. It took me a minute, but intuition flared to life, and I snorted. “A lot like me, or I’m a lot like him.”
A grimace stretched her features. “I haven’t seen him in years, but there’s no denying that you’re the spitting image of him.”
“Practically a clone,” Eli muttered. “It’s worse than Dad and me.”
“I’m sure the bastard probably aged gracefully too,” Mom muttered, and I chose to take that as...actually, I didn’t know how to take that, but I chose to believe her bitterness was just reflexive rather than targeted.
“Yeah,” I agreed with her. “Which is kind of nice to know.”
“Why?”
“Because between you and him, I know I’m going to be hot for decades.”
Mom stared at me for a moment before sighing and rolling her eyes. “Buttering me up?”
“Is it buttering up if it’s true?” I asked with a smirk.
She narrowed her eyes, wagging a finger in my direction as a warning that I wouldn’t take too seriously. “Using my words against me? Not wise.”
“I’m just working with what I’m given,” I said with a grin.
Her expression curdled slightly before easing. “So...the two of you finally met. I wondered if it would happen.”
I frowned at her. “Look...I can understand that you’ve got a rough history with him, and it’s obvious you’re not happy he’s back and found me, but...this is my life, Mom. I’m allowed to pick and choose what happens to me.”
“No one ever gets to decide that,” I heard from behind me, turning to find Marcus entering the room, his expression pinched. “And why do I have Mason of all people telling me I should take an early break and come in here?”
“Because he’s dramatic,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Milo just told Mom he met his biological father,” Eli explained, leaning closer.
It was a perfectly natural gesture between us that no one in the family would bat an eye at.
They were all used to how physically affectionate we were, particularly me, but even Eli, who was typically wary of physical touch, made an exception when it came to me.
No one in the room would look at him moving his chair up against mine, leaning against me, and think it was unusual or noteworthy.
Me though? I was immediately distracted as Marcus walked over to my mother, talking quietly but still clear enough if I wanted to listen.
..which I didn’t. At that moment, all I noticed was Eli’s body pressing against mine.
Normally, all sounds were distracting, and I had to fight to keep them from grabbing my attention.
With Eli touching me so closely, though, everything in the room was on the other side of a fog.
The words from my parents were faint murmurs I couldn’t catch, the light glancing off the glass as Dom took a drink, even the smell of the liquor as I took a hesitant sip, were dim and dull to the sudden warmth and feel of Eli’s hard body against mine.
That was bad enough, but given a minute to get my brain out of my groin, I would have been able to slip back into the conversation without drawing any attention.
Apparently, Eli had other ideas, as he leaned forward as if interested in the conversation between Mom and Marcus.
Which just so happened to make his hand slide up my thigh so it rested right beside my dick.
In truth, despite knowing that not so deep down, Eli was a playful, mischievous little shit when he wanted to be, I might have been willing to pass it off as an accident, a product of him moving forward and his hand just drifting.
It was a desperate idea that was immediately dashed, shattered, and burned the moment his fingers twitched, pushing against my dick—which I was desperately trying to keep soft—and then stretched to close around it.
Caught off guard, I jerked, my knee thumping the underside of the table hard enough to draw attention.
Eli’s hand slipped away, and that and the pain shooting through my knee were enough to bring me back to reality.
Not the way I would have chosen to break that brief but powerful spell, but I wasn’t going to argue if it worked.
“You good?” Dom asked as my eyes watered from the pain.
“Yeah, just...twitchy still, I guess,” I replied, trying to make it obvious that I was being a smartass and unaware that Eli’s hand had moved but wasn’t completely gone.
The mixture of horror and arousal came back sharply when, despite the dull ache in my knee cap, I felt Eli’s hand close around my groin again, the moment everyone’s attention was diverted, assured that I was being the same old Milo.
What the hell was he doing? Our family was right there . As thrilled as I would have been to find out that apparently fucking around the other night was something he enjoyed and was coming back to, it really wasn’t the time or place.