Milo #2
I groan again, but oblige and roll to sit up. Rowan is right beside me and quickly uses the afghan to cover the lower half of our bodies so that we’re at least semi-decent.
I hope Ray isn’t expecting us to get dressed, because I have plans of dragging my man into the shower—Rowan must have wiped me down again because I’m not sticky, but that can’t compare to a real shower!—then staying in bed with him for the rest of the day.
“Well?” I prompt when Ray doesn’t say anything. He’s frowning, and his tense expression is making me worry.
“Do you remember Andrew Solis?” he asks.
“That twatwaffle Andrew? But I’m pretty sure his last name was Mendez or something. Definitely not Solis,” I reply.
“Now that you mention it”—Ray taps his lip—“I think it was actually Murray.”
“No, no. Andrew Lloyd was it!”
Ray throws up his hands. “You know what? Doesn’t matter! Andrew Whatshisface! The asshole that tricked both of us.”
“Aha! So you do admit that he was an asshole. Now you just have to accept the fact that you keep attracting jerks and heal from it,” I grab his hand and say.
Ray looks two point five seconds from blowing his lid, and I very smartly drop his hand. He sucks in a frustrated breath. “This is a serious matter here, goblin. No time for your messiness this early in the morning.”
I mutter, “You’re the one who came here this early—”
My words trail off at his vicious glare. It’s a look that says he’ll actually bite my head off if I don’t shut it. Meanwhile, Rowan is sitting beside me, smirking at our entire interaction.
I thought having a boyfriend meant having someone on my side always. Shouldn’t it now be two against one? Rowan seems content to watch our squabble as if we’re a live daytime television broadcast.
“Let me just show you,” Ray says with a sigh. He pulls out his phone, taps something, then turns it to us to reveal a paused video.
A video of Andrew-whatever-his-last-name is currently on screen with fucking Lance Mercer.
“How the hell do these two even know each other?” I exclaim.
“I’ve heard chatter that Lance has been asking around about you. I didn’t think he’d find anything newsworthy, so I just left it alone, and that’s my fault,” Ray says sorrowfully.
“Hey, this isn’t on you. Lance has been trying to get my attention for a while now, and this is just another one of his ploys. Nobody could have predicted Lance would dig this deeply into my past,” I say in comfort.
Lance has been buzzing around me these last few months and flirting relentlessly. I know he’s only trying to get close to me because he thinks associating with Milo Tobitt will advance his career. He’s not the first to try.
Well, he has another thing coming for him. I wasn’t bluffing when I said I’d pull some strings and make sure he doesn’t get the movie deal he’s been bragging about.
My fists clench in annoyance. I thought I’d held my own at our last encounter, but I guess I’m just not intimidating enough.
Rowan’s hands immediately find mine and give me a comforting squeeze that soothes my frayed edges.
Ray closes his eyes and rubs his lids. Now that he’s not moving like a lightning bolt, I can finally see just how dark the circles under his eyes are. Is he stressed? Overworked? Can’t sleep? All the above?
I need to talk to him about slowing down and resting. Maybe do some yoga or something to relieve some stress.
“Lance must have found someone from your old life and connected you to Andrew. Or hell, maybe Andrew came forward after seeing the recent article about you? We both know he’s an attention-seeking bastard. Right now, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what they’re saying in the video.”
Ray presses play, and it’s an interview-type video where Lance is the interviewer, and Andrew is answering questions about who he is and what his relationship with me was.
He goes into detail about how he and I met and dated, and were in love, before things fizzled out.
He makes it sound like I broke things off because I wanted to focus on MYTHS.
The bastard didn’t even mention Ray once in the story, portraying himself as the supportive, kind boyfriend who freed me from our relationship to pursue my dream.
And at the end of it all, he had the gall to say that our love was magical and he hopes to reunite with me so that “we can have the happily ever after we dreamed of.”
“I’m going to find him and murder him,” Rowan growls from beside me.
Rowan is a pretty big guy with muscles that probably eat protein for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he’s never been anything but gentle with me.
However, seeing him this angry and scary like this is…
kind of a turn-on, actually. Especially knowing that he’s getting this worked up on my behalf.
His hand is squeezing mine in a tight vise, but he quickly loosens his hold when I wince. He turns to me, the blues in his eyes mixed with the grays to make a sorrowful color. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I cup his cheek. “I know you didn’t. I know you’d never hurt me,” I tell him, and I truly believe that.
All this talk about love that Andrew is spouting is pure bullshit, because now I know what I had with him wasn’t love. It never was.
I’d been really young back then and thought infatuation equaled something real, but it didn’t. The year I was with him can’t even compare to the weeks I’ve known Rowan.
He’s shown me what real love is. It’s comfort, understanding, and the feeling of home.
It’s someone who’s willing to do the hard shit just to make you happy, whether that be braving the kitchen for Rowan, or him threatening murder on someone who hurt me and is now probably trying to use me for clout.
What I had with Andrew was only a tiny fraction of this thing Rowan and I are creating. I snuggle into his arms, and the world is right again.
This is love. And I’d do everything to protect it.
Rowan holds me ever so gently, but his words are hard when he speaks, “That fucker is going off running his mouth.”
“They must think that just because Lance is the one doing the interview, and he’s been seen around with you, it makes Andrew’s story believable.
This is an annoyance, but if we continue with the same plan, it’ll die down eventually.
Anyone can go on the internet and say anything. Doesn’t make it true.”
I nod.
I get the logic. If I don’t bring light to this video, then it’ll just be another speculation on my life. I could hide until all this dies down and people lose interest in figuring out my sexuality. I could go back to how things were.
Something tugs inside me, and I look at Rowan. He’s watching me with worry in those beautiful eyes of his.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want,” he murmurs.
“I want you,” I blurt out. I’d said the same words last night, and they still ring true in the light of day.
I don’t want to hide. To have to pretend I’m not in love with Rowan—with a man—just to keep up the image my fans have of me.
Rowan once told me that I play the part for my job. I show them my customer-service side, but it’s still me. It’s a part that makes up the entire me, just like how Rowan is quickly becoming a part that makes up my heart, and I want to show the entire world.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t want to hide away the parts of me that aren’t “marketable.” I want to be true to myself and make it clear to everyone—especially fucking Andrew—that I’m in love with someone who makes me better, and him being a man is only a tiny piece of the entire picture.
I scramble out of his hold to find my phone, ignoring the questions the two are throwing at me. I finally find it thrown under the coffee table and toss my phone to Ray.
“Make sure we look good,” I tell him.
“What are you—”
“Just take the photo!” I order, then climb back to my spot on Rowan’s lap and drape the afghan over us. “Is it—”
“Yes,” Rowan interrupts before I can finish my question.
“But you don’t even know what I’m planning.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he murmurs. “I’m all in, Milo, and that means I’m willing to go along with everything that goblin brain of yours comes up with.”
The mix of greens and blues melts behind the gold flakes that warm as he looks at me.
Hazel.
This is what love is.
His eyes on me. His arms around me. His presence filling my world like a protective barrier. It’s us. It’s always been us.
“Fuck. Even I have to admit that this is too fucking adorable,” Ray says, and I can’t even be mad about him interrupting the moment.
I catch the phone he tosses my way and open the photo of us. It’s just me and Rowan. I’m sitting on his lap, and Rowan has the afghan wrapped around us so that there isn’t enough skin showing to matter.
That’s not what catches my breath, though. It’s the way Rowan is holding me, so gently that you can see it, even through the screen.
And the love. God, the love shining on both our faces is so blatantly obvious that no one can mistake what this photo is.
“I’m gonna have to go take care of the storm after your hard launch. Good thing I already have a plan ready for this,” Ray says with a wink, then he leaves as quickly as he entered.
Rowan and I give each other a look, then burst out laughing. “Hurricane Ray has left the building,” Rowan jokes.
I laugh and snuggle deeper into his arms for the next part. Opening up my social media app, I select the photo and crop it so it only shows the top half of our bodies.
My finger lingers on the next button. Rowan is the one to press it for me. I look up at him, and he nods.
“I’m all in,” he whispers again. “I love you.”
I’m about to make a very public announcement to the entire world that not only am I in love, but I’m in love with a man. Instead of fear or anxiety, there’s only peace.
I type one thing in the caption and hit post before tossing my phone back where it came from and tackling Rowan into a fierce kiss. It’s all that really needs to be said:
#roloforever