12. Milo #3
I shook my head and slid down to the floor, crossing my legs.
It felt safer to talk to him in the kitchen.
The couch had too many sexy memories, and I’d be too tempted to jump on him to avoid the conversation we probably needed to have.
The kitchen felt safer. The cold linoleum on my bare legs was grounding.
Rowan sat down across from me. He looked out of place on my kitchen floor, wearing only a pair of old plaid boxers he told me he wore before every game.
His long, hairy legs were stretched out in front of him, his toes pressed against my bent knees.
I focused on the simple touch of his skin to mine and drew in a deep breath.
I looked down at where my ankles crossed, focusing on the taper of my calves to my ankles.
“I think I like you.”
There.
I’d said it.
Rowan was silent, and I forced myself to look up. His face was… I didn’t know how to describe the expression on his face. His brow was furrowed, and his thin lips were slightly parted. He was studying me like I’d spoken a foreign language.
Maybe I’d only thought I’d spoken. I drew in another deep breath and forced myself to lock in on his hazel eyes. “I think I like you,” I repeated.
“I heard you,” he assured me. He scooted closer to me, crossing his legs the way I did. He kept scooting until his knees pressed against mine. “I was processing.”
Processing. That couldn’t be a good thing.
Maybe telling him how I felt was a bad idea.
It was going to make things weird between us.
The physical relationship would stop, but that didn’t bother me nearly as much as the fact that our friendship would fade away.
We wouldn’t have long conversations anymore.
I wouldn’t hear more stories about his family.
I’d never find out how his nephew was doing in his martial arts class or how his niece’s talent show went.
We’d go back to being strangers. I’d go back to annoying him.
It would be like the past month had never happened.
More worst-case scenarios danced through my head.
Not only would our friendship go away, he’d be so weird about it that he’d call his agent and ask for another trade.
He’d go to another team, and I’d never talk to him again.
Because we’d lose the best linebacker we had, we’d finish the season 3-14, not winning another game.
It would be the worst season I’d ever had.
(Before that, our worst season had us only winning five games, and that had been one of the worst seasons in Scorpions history.)
When people asked why he wanted to be traded, he’d say that he had a teammate who made him uncomfortable, and then people would dig and they’d find out that it was me.
I’d get painted as some kind of villain who preyed on his teammates.
I’d be waived next season, and no other team would pick me up, and my career would be over.
The money I’d made so far would dry up, Aunt Ethel and I would be kicked out of our condos—even though they were paid for, we wouldn’t be able to afford property taxes—and we’d be homeless.
She’d end up spending the rest of her days in a cardboard box on the street, and when she passed, I’d be left completely alone.
All because I’d opened my mouth and admitted my feelings like an idiot.
The weight of Rowan’s hand on my bare knee stopped the whirring in my brain. The worst-case scenarios skidded to a halt, and every bit of my focus moved to where his hand rested on my leg.
A beat of silence passed between us, and Rowan squeezed my knee. “I like you, too,” he said calmly. “There is no think about it. I like you, Milo. You talk too much. You have too much energy. You drive me crazy sometimes with all your fidgeting—”
“Wow, are you sure you like me?” I scoffed.
The smile that spread across his face was breathtaking.
“I’m sure,” he confirmed, “because you’re also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.
You take care of your aunt. I watch you on the plane, and you go and talk to everyone.
I know part of that is because you hate sitting still, but I also know that it’s because you don’t like people feeling left out.
It’s the same reason you made me sit with you, Jonesy, and Liam after our first victory.
” His eyes met mine. “You make me laugh. You get me to talk, and you actually listen to what I have to say. You ask questions, and you remember the answers. The other day, you asked how Raina was feeling after I mentioned in passing that she had a cold a few days before. Do you know how rare that is?”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard Rowan say that many words in a row.
“So yeah, I like you. I’ve liked you for a while.”
I reached down and covered Rowan’s hand with mine. “You make me sound pretty amazing.”
“You are.”
And then Rowan kissed me so softly it felt like the brush of a feather against my lips.
We stayed sitting on the floor, talking for an hour before we finally went back to my bedroom. Rowan pulled me into his arms, and I fell into the deepest and best sleep I’d had in my life.
Notes
I’ve posted Liam and Jonesy’s week in paradise. What? I love a good side quest, and while Rowan and Milo have my heart, Lonesy will always be my first love.