Page 70 of Milo
Niall throws his napkin on the table and goes to stand up, but my hand shoots out and stays him. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
He has a very disappointed look on his face which makes my stomach drop. “Until the next time,” he says slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re obsessed with the fact that I fucked him.” He shrugs. “I can’t take that back and honestly, I wouldn’t want to.”
“What?” My hurt is visible, and he shakes his head crossly.
“It’s part of my past and I don’t regret anything. It’s what’s gone towards making me who I am now. It’s created the me who’s with you now. I can’t ever regret that because I’m happy with the place I’m in.” He pauses. “Well, I would be if you’d get your head out of your arse.”
“Really?”
He stares at me, his eyes wide and unblinking. “You need to sort this out. I don’t think the problem is me and him. That was never anything that was going anywhere and at the heart of you, you know that. The problem is actually you and him.” He sighs. “The two of you have this awkward push and pull where one pulls while the other isn’t watching and then he pushes. Then before you know it, you’re in a fucking tug of war. You need to stop it because I think you’re missing out on a relationship with him that would do you both good. Milo, you need your brother.” He smiles at me. “And he needs you.”
“As if,” I scoff, and he shakes his head.
“Get out of your head and away from where you think everything he does shows you up in a negative light. Like you measuring yourself against him all the time and thinking you come up short. The truth is so far from that, it’s laughable. Actually see him, Lo, because at the moment he needs you more than you need him.”
“He needs you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” he says simply. “Or if he does, it’s because he’s clinging to familiarity.”
Dinner is quiet after this, as though Gideon’s disappearance has put a pall on things. I can’t concentrate on anything because Niall’s words echo in my head, and when everyone has gone to bed, I roam the ground floor looking for my brother. I find him outside on the patio wrapped in a blanket and sitting on the wicker sofa looking down at the lights of the village.
He looks up when he hears the door and gazes at me solemnly while he sips from a bottle of vodka. Feeling unnerved by the silence I hover, shifting from foot to foot.
“Don’t you want a glass?” I ask.
The words are so innocuous that I’m not surprised he smirks. “Nope,” he says calmly, popping the p. “It would interfere with the speed at which I’m intending to drink this bottle.”
I drift nearer to him and shiver violently. “Jesus, it’s cold out here.”
He shakes his head but holds up the edge of the blanket in silent invitation. I take it, diving under gratefully and pulling the blanket around my shoulders. It smells of his Tom Ford cologne, which is his signature scent, making it at once somehow exotic and yet as familiar as our childhood home.
He offers me the bottle silently, and I take an enthusiastic gulp and immediately cough as it burns my throat. “Shit,” I say morosely and he laughs unexpectedly, his eyes warm and his face open, making him look suddenly young.
“You never could drink well,” he says almost affectionately. “I remember Niall giving you a sip of his whisky one Christmas and you coughed so hard you spat in his hair.”
“Oh lovely,” I say faintly. “I’m surprised his dick can get hard around me with those lovely memories in his head.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he says slowly and instantly the awkwardness roars back in.
“Do you mind?” I ask suddenly, breaking the silence as surely as if I’ve put a brick to it.
He stares down at the village, looking meditative. “Would it make any difference?”
Alarm flares in me.Is he going to make me choose between him and Niall?
He shoots me a slanting glance that seems almost amused. “I can hear your brain working from over here.”
“And what is my brain saying?”
“Who you’d choose if it came down to it. Would you choose your hook-up or your brother?”
“Niall is not a hook-up,” I say indignantly and he turns to me, all humour gone.
“Isn’t he? You might want to mention that to him, because as far as I can see you’re just using him to see what sex should feel like.” He settles back and smiles. “I have to say he’s the best person for that. He’s an amazing fuck.”
