8
Casey
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good waking up or slept so well. It was a little annoying to admit that a big part of that was because Hudson and I had been growing apart, and I could have been with Milo sooner if I hadn’t been so stubborn. Suppose that meant I owed Hudson a thank you. For the first time since he’d walked out of the townhouse, I wished him well. Maybe he’d find the kind of happiness Milo brought me.
I was only a little embarrassed to admit that I’d been half in love with my cute twink neighbor before I’d even met him. Now that I had? I was a goner. I couldn’t wait to get back to Oak Haven, so I could take him on a proper date. Milo was possibly the sweetest man I’d ever met, and he deserved every nice thing I could think of. Starting with a “good morning blowjob”.
A smile was already on my face as I rolled over. Except where I’d expected a warm body, I found cool sheets. I lurched up, still blinking the world into focus as I scanned the suite. The balcony was closed, and since we hadn’t closed the curtains, I could clearly see that no one was outside. The bathroom door was ajar, but the light wasn’t on. Most telling of all, though, all of Milo’s clothes were gone, and so was he.
My heart squeezed painfully as I wracked my brain for when he might have left. Maybe I’d partially woken up and bid him goodnight. But I doubted it. If I had, I’d have pushed for him to stay. Which left my least favorite possibility. Milo had snuck out. Another glance out the window showed that we’d already docked. If I hurried, maybe I’d be able to find him before we had to disembark.
I shuffled to the edge of the bed. At the same time my feet touched the floor, my gaze landed on a folded piece of paper with my name on it sitting on the desk. By the time I’d scrambled out of bed, opened it, and read through it twice, my heart had gone from a gallop of urgency to a sluggish beat of despair.
Casey,
This has been the most incredible week of my life. Getting to know you has been amazing. I don’t typically do one-night stands, but I knew I’d regret it more if I didn’t, since I’ll probably never see you again. I’m sorry for sneaking out, but I’m the worst at goodbyes. Have an amazing life, Casey.
Thanks for everything,
Milo
P.S. Never give up on your passions.
I released the page to flutter to the desk. It wasn’t until it settled that I realized there was another unfolded page sitting on the desk. I carefully picked it up, secretly hoping it held his contact information. Now that we were in port, he wouldn’t need to worry about roaming charges. I could call and clear this all up. Make him understand I wanted more than a cruise fling, that I’d been crushing on him from afar for years.
But his info wasn’t on the page. What was made my heart ache in the best and worst ways. I hadn’t realized that when he’d been sketching the other day, I’d been one of his subjects. With nothing more than colored pencils, he’d captured the sun streaming through the ship’s windows to create a circle of light around me as I typed at my laptop. Since I’d never seen myself write before, I didn’t know if the smile on my face was artistic liberty or reality. What I did know was that Milo made me smile. A lot.
I had to find him, preferably before he left the Mosaic. I’d booked a fancy hotel and dinner for Hudson and me to enjoy after our romantic cruise. Would Milo be weirded out taking Hudson’s place? Only way to know was to ask him. I finished getting dressed and packed my backpack, grateful I didn’t have to worry about lugging my suitcase across the ship and down the elevators.
Unfortunately, finding Milo amid the throng of cruisers eager to get on land proved impossible. My search of the luggage pickup area wasn’t any more successful. Nor was a survey of the crowd milling outside waiting for their rides.
With a defeated heart, I found the rideshare I’d pre-booked and let it take me to the hotel where I took a seat at the bar, ordered a banana daiquiri, and stared at the sketch Milo had made of me. I would have preferred one of him, but the little I’d learned about him told me he wasn’t one for self-portraits.
Time seemed to drag on. One daiquiri eventually became two when the first became too watered down to finish. The light outside dimmed with the sunset, and I forced myself to go up to the room. Out of habit, I took out my laptop and propped it on my lap as I sat on the bed with Milo’s picture lying beside me on the comforter. I was still staring at it when the computer finished booting and my login screen loaded with a picture I’d taken of the painting by my favorite anonymous artist. That’s when I noticed the signature.