Page 86 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Details.” I flopped a hand at him. “Point is, I’ll be fine. Seriously. People grow up, you know. Move on. Have lots of loud sex withouttheir best friend in the next room.” I paused. “Hey, maybe I’ll find a place with a rooftop pool and bikini-clad neighbors. Might even install a home gym.”

His eyebrow performed an impressive jump. “Really?”

“Nah. But maybe a shrine to myself. Mirrors everywhere. A disco ball.”

One side of his mouth twitched up, then turned down again. “He’s sensitive about the money thing, though. Milo. Doesn’t want to feel like a…”

Another loose end, and boy, he wasbreakingmy heart here. I finished for him. “A kept man? Sugar baby? Boy toy?”

Another half-smile. “All of the above.”

“So talk to him. Set up a chore wheel. Split the bills. Maybe he can pay you in…” I infused my tone with generous innuendo. “Otherways. If you get my drift.”

“I really don’t,” he said with just a hint of sarcasm—finally. Therewaslife on love-infested Mars. “Please spell it out for me.”

I opened my mouth.

“Actually,” he added quickly, “please don’t. It may leave scars.”

I scoffed. “Prude.”

“Freak.”

”Thank you.” I fanned myself, then ditched the act and fixed him with a hard look. “Okay, listen. Last I heard—because you won’t fucking shut up about it—your man is some hotshot photographer now.” Bit of a stretch, maybe, but Milo had placed second in some nature photography competition that seemed like kind of a big deal. His pictures weren’t half bad, though I personally preferred nudes. Anyway. “He can afford better than his current hellhole. So you might wanna grow some balls before he signs the lease on a new place.”

“Is this the kind of sweet, gentle advice you give your patients?” Logan asked, but the thoughtful tilt of his mouth suggested I’d gotten through to him.

“No, I said. “This kick in the ass is pro bono. Different rules.”

Before Logan could drag out a discussion that could really only lead to one conclusion, we got interrupted by the opening of the frontdoor. Because yes, Milo had a key. For months now, in fact. Nine months in, and honestly, those two were still fucking ridiculous. I was ashamed to breathe the same air. Might give me cooties. Or—worse—feelings.

Milo spotted us and offered a tentative smile, setting down his camera bag. “Hi. All good?”

“Excellent.” I kicked my feet up on the coffee table. “We were just talking about you.”

”Coming from you, that’s…” He paused. “Mildly concerning. Should I be worried?”

“Only if you’re allergic to commitment,” I said.

Logan’s warning look could curdle milk. Good thing I was more of a tequila type of guy. “It’s nothing bad,” he told Milo. “I mean—I think? Hope.”

“Youthinkit’s nothing bad?” Milo tilted his head, a fond gleam in his eyes. Seemed like he’d become fluent in Logan babble, which I could appreciate.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I pointed at Logan. “He. Wantsyou”—pointed at Milo—“to move in. Officially. Keys and everything. But oh, wait! You already have those.”

“I...” Milo blinked. “Really? Or are you just screwing with me?”

Logan groaned. “Kyle!”

“What?” I asked. “I’m expediting the process.”

“Really?” Milo repeated, and the innocently confused hedgehog impression was a little cute. If, you know, you’re into that kind of thing.

“Yes.” I clapped my hands. “So, hey. Don’t break his little heart or I’m gonna have to kill you. And I fuckinghategetting my hands dirty.”

“I—,” Milo started just as Logan shot me a glare.

“How about some privacy?”

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