29. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
Milo
Rose’s lips are exactly how I remembered them. They became a part of the essence of me the night we met and now that she’s kissing me here in Longdale, Colorado, down the street from a mediocre Chinese Restaurant, I know I’m home.
Everything in me folds in on itself the more I wrap my arms around her and sink into this moment. Her lips search mine. She grabs at the collar of my shirt to get better leverage, and I yank her closer. She devours my mouth over and over again. When I tangle my hands in her hair, she trails her lips down to my collarbone and nibbles there, before returning to my mouth.
After a few more deep kisses, she pulls away to drag in a breath and rests the back of her hand over her mouth. She giggles lightly, then turns her hand over so she can run her fingertips over her lips. It’s mesmerizing. Beautiful. And I have to force myself not to claim her mouth again.
She bridges the gap for me, taking my mouth in hers, savoring me as I’m savoring her.
“Rose,” I moan under my breath when we take a moment to breathe. Her hands knead my shoulders for one beat, her eyes darting to and fro as she breathes, and then her lips cling to me again.
Then we walk and kiss some more.
Rinse and repeat several times.
Longdale’s a small town. It’s not known for its nightlife. Still, she laughs as she pulls me behind a tree in the park strip and we kiss some more. We walk awhile and then I guide her behind a scrim of greenery in front of the city offices and take her lips in mine again.
“I don’t want to talk about when I move away,” Rose states flatly, her hand curling into my palm as she threads her fingers through mine.
“Then don’t.”
A laugh escapes her lips. “It complicates things.”
“Not for me. I really care about you, Rose.” The way her lips look right now, raw and pink and swollen, it’s difficult not to start kissing her again.
“I care about you a lot, too,” she says. And the finality in her voice makes me think that maybe we’ve said all we’ve needed to at this point.
I don’t know how this is going to work or what will happen. But I do know that a world with the possibility of Rose in it is much better than a world without that possibility at all.
And I’m not going down without a fight.
We end the date by picking up Callum. Sophie and Oliver say he did great. He falls asleep in his car seat on the way home and I help her carry him in. I carefully change his diaper, so as to not wake him, and put him in his crib.
I walk to the door. I’d love to stay and hang out with her more, but I know she was tired going into the date. I have to prove to Rose that I’m in this for the long haul, and part of that means being willing to say goodbye to her at the end of the night.
“Who’s the woman?” Benson asks when I arrive at the suite a little before ten p.m.
“I’m that obvious, huh?”
Benson chuckles and closes the book he’s been reading, resting it in his lap. He’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. “Sebastian might have alluded to you dating someone. But yeah. It’s not hard to see it.”
“The family saw it when I first met her several months ago. I guess I’m bad at hiding it.”
“Hey, no judgements from me. When I met my wife, I drove a delivery truck across the country for her, on a whim, just because I heard she needed some help with it. She didn’t even come. It was just me and some other dude I didn’t know. But you can bet I volunteered so fast because I was completely into her. We’ve all been a little crazy over love.”
I shake my head and smile, sinking down into the sofa across from him. Yeah, I’m tired and should go to bed, but I’m still buzzing from being with Rose.
“So you’re referring to Dax and Indie’s mom?”
Benson bunches up his mouth before responding. “Yep. She was the love of my life, until her life took her in another direction.” The heaviness over his expression is palpable. “But that’s a story for another time. Tell me about yours.”
“I wish I could say she was mine, but it’s not exactly like that. She doesn’t want to get serious with anyone. She’s going to nursing school in North Carolina in the fall.”
“Dang. That’s too bad. Long distance relationships are hard. I’m not saying you shouldn’t attempt them, but they’re hard.”
“I know. I feel like it doesn’t matter how hard it will be, I still want to do it. I want to figure out how to make it work somehow.”
“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
“You sound like that singer.”
Benson laughs with his head dropping back and then starts to sing Bebe Rexha’s tune. He has a good singing voice.
After a couple of lines of the chorus, he tilts his head to one side. “Hey thanks again for letting me stay here for a little while. I’m signing a lease on a place in Denver tomorrow, but I can’t move in for another couple of weeks.”
“Oh, it’s been great. And . . .” I point to his stack of books. “I’m just happy to have someone in the family to talk to about the fantasy genre.”
“You a fantasy junkie, too?” Benson asks, his eyes wide.
“Through and through. No one else in the family gets that. I’ve gotten made fun of for my reading choices for as long as I can remember.”
“What was your gateway? Mine was The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley in sixth grade.”
“I read that, too. But it wasn’t my first. I read some of Ursula Le Guin’s stuff before that, and Redwall and Tamora Pierce’s stuff. I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I realize, with a start, that I could be describing my feelings for Rose. Everything about her fills up my entire consciousness. I go all in when I find something I love, or someone I love.
“My kids are reading Redwall right now. Their mom and stepdad are doing a family read of it.” His expression falls again.
“It’s such a classic. Have you ever thought of trying your hand at writing fantasy?” Why would I ask him that? It’s like I want to divulge my secret.
“Writing it? Nah. I’m not that creative. I’m more of a computers guy. I like reading science fiction, too.”
“Sci-Fi, huh? I just picked up a copy of The Sea of Tranquility but haven’t had the time to crack it open yet.”
I really want to read it. But between trying to get the next installment of Zehma up, working for Sebastian, and spending as much time as possible with Rose, I haven’t had a chance.
It’s okay, though. I know sacrifices have to be made.
Benson and I talk for a while longer. As far as surprise half-brothers go, he’s not too bad. He’s a solid guy. And now that Callum is in my life, I can appreciate the way Benson lights up when he sees that his kids are calling him for a video chat to say goodnight.
I excuse myself to go finish the installment that I need to upload before morning.
Is that going to be me? Am I going to be on video calls with Callum and Rose in a few months? I hope so, since that’s the only way this is going to work between us. It’s the only thing I can do.
Maybe Benson can help me understand how to go on functioning when the people you love live so far away.
Nerves press over me, weighing down the back of my neck.
Because I’d like to transfer to the Tate International’s Chapel Hill location come fall. The thing is, my MFA program isn’t online, it’s in person. There’s a waiting list a mile long, so I doubt they’d let me defer. I want my MFA, but I want Rose, too.
There is no one in my life who can give me advice about this problem because no one even knows I’ve been accepted into Greenleaf.
A lonely sort of grief grips me. I could just go tell Benson everything.
And even though he could probably give me some good advice about a lot of things, I can’t. Not yet.
Besides, I don’t know of a single soul who could tell me how to deal with what I’m about to do in my manuscript.
All I know is, this is long overdue.