Rowan
When Ray said we should stay at home for the next few days, Milo took it very seriously. Not that I’m complaining.
We haven’t left his penthouse since the day Ray came over, and have been surviving off takeout and my cooking. Milo is always eager to help with the meals, but I always firmly decline and insist his company is more than enough.
This also means that I haven’t been home since the night we first had sex either. I tell myself it’s because I want to make sure Milo is safe here. That no overzealous pap finds a creative way to break in here to get a scoop.
Who am I kidding? I just want to be in Milo’s company.
I crave his touch. I love seeing him laugh while he’s getting up to his antics. I want to snuggle together as we enjoy the gorgeous sunsets, curl up against him when we sleep, and have all his sweet kisses when we’re making love.
I can’t get enough of Milo, and thankfully, he seems content with me worshiping every inch of his body. He once said that he was irresistible, and I know it was supposed to be a joke, but it’s the truth.
I now understand why there are fanfics written about his ankles, because every single inch of him is perfection.
I can’t get my fill of him, but I need to. Because while, to me, I’m making love to Milo every night, to him it’s just sex. Just because he’s attracted to me doesn’t mean he has feelings for me too.
Which sucks.
It feels like I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. Like every ex who’s called me cold and unavailable has cursed me to fall in love with the one man who’s unavailable to me.
Falling in love with the person I’m meant to protect? I’m a damn cliché.
I have his body—for now—but my heart knows that this is only temporary. Right now we’re in a little bubble, but I won’t be able to hide from reality forever.
Much like how I’ve been dodging Reagan’s constant calls and texts about my relationship with Milo, I’ve been ignoring what needs to happen when this current situation is taken care of.
As Ray planned, we’ll keep the status quo until the articles and pictures of Milo wearing my leather jacket become old news.
But after that…
Once the buzz over this article dies down and Milo returns to his normal life, I need to resign as his bodyguard and leave before I mess everything up for him.
There’s already enough speculation surrounding Milo, and I can’t make things even more complicated for him.
I can’t rock the boat.
All I can do is enjoy these last blissful and wonderfully domestic days with Milo…except Milo’s been acting different recently.
He doesn’t veer from our physical intimacy, but he’s been distracted. When he’s not in his studio working on his song, I’ll often find him sitting on the couch, dazed and not looking at anything at all.
It’s Friday night, and his absent-mindedness has gotten worse since his dinner with his former bandmates.
It’s the first time we left the penthouse, but I’d been extra vigilant to make sure nobody was following us and snapping photos. It helped that the dinner location was at a very exclusive restaurant that takes privacy very seriously.
I’d stood guard outside the room while he and his friends dined together, so I can only guess what made him so distracted after meeting them.
He doesn’t even notice I’ve sat beside him until I literally scoop him into my arms, then he’s all bright smiles as he turns into a cuddle bug.
God, I’m going to miss this so much.
But I’m not what’s important right now. Something is bothering Milo, and I wish he would talk to me about it.
“What’s going on in that goblin mind of yours?” I ask.
He chuckles at me teasingly using Ray’s nickname for him, and turns on my lap so he’s facing me, letting his legs hang on either side of me.
His eyes meet mine, and like every other time this week we’ve locked gazes, all words fly out the window, and his lips find mine. We’re all tongues and teasing lips for a few minutes, and I could have this forever.
Fuck, I’d drown in him if I could, but I reluctantly break our kiss.
We’re both breathing heavily, and I press my nose into the nape of his neck to calm myself. His sweet-apple-and-mint scent doesn’t do much to calm my growing erection, but I breathe him in anyway.
“Did they say something to you at dinner?” I prompt when I finally catch my breath.
Milo has his arms wrapped around my head, and his nose is pressed into my hair when he replies, “They asked about the article, and I told them the truth.”
I pull back to gape at him. I was not expecting this.
“By ‘truth’ you mean…”
“I told them I’m gay,” he confirms.
I should be surprised by the fact that he’s never told his bandmates his sexuality, but I’m not. Not really. Based on his reaction to Tate and Yury, I got the feeling that he wasn’t as close to them as some old articles might imply.
You can’t trust what you see online. Just like how the current articles going around about Milo are false too.
“How did they take it?” I ask. My hand finds his cheek, and my finger rubs against the lips he’s chewing again. The wound he’d inflicted on himself last time has only just healed, but he’s already bitten his lips a juicy red.
Milo sucks on my finger. If it’ll make him stop chewing his lip until it’s broken and bruised, I’d happily give my fingers as a sacrifice.
He releases my digit and nuzzles into my palm. The action has my heart squeezing too tightly.
“They took it well, I guess. Tate was pissed I kept it from them for so long, but he’s always been a hothead. Yury was mostly disinterested, Harvey only nodded, and Sully looked concerned.”
Milo blew out a breath through his teeth.
“Can I ask why it seems like there’s friction between you guys? You’re closed off every time they’re mentioned.”
Milo looks at me, gray eyes filled with a sadness that I wish I could take away. My thumb runs under his eye, and his lids close for a brief moment of peace.
“I guess there is,” he finally answers with a sigh of his shoulders. “I feel guilty toward them.”
“Why? Because you kept your sexuality to yourself? You don’t have to be out of the closet to be validated. That’s a conversation you don’t have with anyone but yourself,” I tell him.
Milo’s lips cock up in a half smile. “You’re so quick to defend me when I haven’t even gotten started on why I’m the villain of the story.”
“You’re not the villain,” I insist.
It only makes Milo laugh again. “I’m not so sure you’ll be thinking that once you hear the entire story.”
My fingers find his waist and press him closer to me so there’s not an inch of space between us.
“I always take the side of people I care about,” I admit.
Milo’s brow creases in the middle. “Am I included because you’re my bodyguard?”
“What? No! I—”
I squeeze my lips shut before I can tell him what I feel for him is more than what any bodyguard should feel for his client. I want to be with him, not as hired help, but as someone who stands by his side and protects him because I want him to be happy.
It’s a dream that’s likely to never come true.
Milo presses his lips flat when he sees I don’t answer, but he doesn’t push me to continue.
I can’t decide whether I’m thankful or regretful that he doesn’t.
But the moment passes before I can ask, and I can visibly see Milo’s mood shift.
He’s not looking at me anymore, but at something off in the distance.
Maybe even something in the distant past.
“We were practically kids when we started, you know? And it felt like as soon as MYTHS debuted, the five of us were shot into stardom and the entire world’s eyes were on us.”
My hands shift on his waist to knead the fleshy part of his sides, and the touch seems to ground him a bit. He returns from the memories that haunt him and comes back to me.
“I never really had good interpersonal skills, you know?”
“You? The guy who claimed me as his BFF after what seems like only minutes of meeting me?” I ask in disbelief.
Milo laughs. “But that’s my entire point. I never understood the line of friendship. I always think I’m closer to people than I really am. People find me obnoxious,” he mutters quietly.
My heart breaks for the man who showed himself and wasn’t accepted. I wish I could go to his past self and shield him from those who didn’t understand him.
“So I learned to be good at hiding away from everyone. The other members of MYTHS, especially. I poured my entire focus into the band, and my parents passed away a year after we debuted—”
“Shit, I’m sorry. It must be hard to grieve when you’re under the spotlight like that,” I murmur and continue my small circles on his waist.
Milo shakes his head. “It wasn’t easy,” he says with a laugh that held no humor.
“Dozens of relatives I’d never seen before suddenly popped up for the funeral, all wanting something from me.
My aunt Anabelle—Ethel’s old roommate at the nursing home—had to chase them all away.
She was a firecracker. It’s why she and Ethel got along so well. ”
I notice the use of the past tense. “Aunt Anabelle is…?”
“She’s gone too,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Last year. She passed peacefully in her sleep, though Ethel insists she’s still haunting the nursing home just for the heck of it.”
Milo’s eyes crinkle, and I chuckle. “After meeting Ethel, I can just imagine the kind of trouble they got into.”
“Oh, you think Ethel is bad now? She was ten times worse when she had her sidekick. In reality, it was Aunt Anabelle who came up with the mischief, and Ethel was just happy to be along for the ride.”
“She must be where you get your goblin from,” I tease. My joke works, and I wrangle another sweet laugh from him.
It’s short-lived, though, and Milo’s shoulders slump again.