Page 73 of Milo
Then he smiles and I forget about it, lost in the curve of that full lip of his.
He lifts up the corner of the blanket and I kick off my shoes and climb into his nest happily. He turns on his side and I spoon up behind him. He’s only wearing a pair of pyjama shorts andI can feel his soft skin against mine. Silence falls for a while as we watch the fat snowflakes twirl in a hypnotic pattern. The only sounds are his soft breathing, the delicate patter of the snowflakes on the glass, and the pop as wood shifts in the fire. It’s extraordinarily peaceful and not something I’ve ever done with a lover before. I’ve always been antsy and on the move, so it’s a surprise to find the contentment I do in lying with him in sleepy warmth.
I send my hands down his body, admiring the sleek skin under my callused palms. He twists under me, languorously stretching, and words spill out. “You remind me of the willow trees in the south field.”
He cocks one eyebrow, his hair falling around his face in loose waves. “Why?”
I swallow but the words come out anyway. “Because you’re slender and look delicate but you twist and bow with whichever way the wind bends you. You never break because your roots are deep and sturdy.”
He’s silent for a second, obviously thinking my words over, and I feel a flush on my face. Then he twists to see me and a warm smile plays on his lips. “That’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me,” he murmurs.
I shake my head, thinking grimly of Thomas. “You should listen to the right person.” I pinch his hip and he jerks and laughs. “That’s me, by the way. I’d recommend that you always listen and obey me.”
He snorts. “That’s not likely.”
“I know.” The satisfaction with that is clear in my voice and I see him smile. When he says nothing more, I cuddle closer and we lapse into a comfortable silence.
I’m half dozing when he stirs. “We go back tomorrow,” he says.
I nestle closer and blink sleepily. “I know. Will you be sad?”
He runs his slender fingers over my forearm almost absentmindedly. “I will,” he says with an air of discovery. “I’ve loved it here. I don’t want to leave.”
I hesitate. “Well, it’s always here,” I say, mentally holding my breath. “We’ll come back in January and have a few days skiing. Then it’s beautiful in the spring and summer. We could come back and hike. The air is so clear and perfect. We’ll do it on our own though.” I come to a stuttering stop, aware that I’m babbling, but he doesn’t laugh. Instead, he turns around to face me so we’re sharing a pillow and staring into each other’s faces. It’s extraordinarily intimate.
He smiles at me and it almost seems like tenderness hovers on it. Then he traces one long finger down my face, coming to a stop at my lower lip. I pretend to bite it and he gives that wide, unguarded smile that I’m seeing a lot of lately.
“I would like that,” he says softly. “Just the two of us.”
Emotion fills me all of a sudden, like I’ve inhaled happiness helium. It flows through my veins and from the time it takes to draw one breath to the next, I know that I’m in love with him. I become aware that I’m holding my breath and I exhale unobtrusively. I wait for the panic to fill me, but it doesn’t come.
It’s strange that I’ve lived a life full of excess, never risking my heart, and now I’m gambling everything on the whim of a beautiful man who pretty soon may unfurl his wings and fly away, and I still feel nothing but gratitude. I’m grateful that he’s in my life at this moment. That I can hold him in my arms at night. That he trusts me with his inner feelings, when he doesn’t do that with many people.
I know he may go, but that has no bearing on my feelings. This whole thing feels inevitable and unstoppable, like a small part of me always knew that we would end up here, lying together in a peace that I’ve never felt before.
I shift position, using the opportunity to shield my expression. I may have had a revelation but I’m realistic enough to know that he hasn’t. I’m just a familiar figure he feels comfortable enough with to act on sexual attraction. He’ll probably settle with some artistic man who shares his interests and he won’t think of me again beyond a few good memories, but I still wouldn’t change anything.
I pause for a second and contemplate that unexpectedly selfless thought. Then I think of that unknown man and scowl because fuck that wanker. I’m going to fight for Milo even though hopefully he won’t realise it, and I’m going to win and keep him. I’ll just have to be careful about it because my Lo does not like being manoeuvred into anything.
When I look up he’s staring at me, his eyes dark with some emotion.
“How did it go with Gideon?” I ask quickly. I don’t need him seeing inside my head the way he has a funny knack of doing.
He smiles and I relax slightly. I’ve hated the tension between the two brothers this week. They’re both so similar underneath. They love each other and just don’t know how to show it because they’re essentially strangers who share the same blood. Nevertheless, if Milo and I are to stand any chance together, he has to be at peace with his brother and vice versa. If I had been made to choose between them then it’s obvious that I’d have chosen Milo, but I’d hoped never to have to do that because I’ll always care for Gideon.
“We talked,” he says, slowly nestling into me and pushing his head into my neck. It’s something he does a lot, like he feels safe there. I treasure it, so I immediately curl my arms around him, loving the soft sigh he gives. “He wants to spend more time together.”
“Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?” I say softly, and he nods, his hair scratching at my neck and his sharp scent of lemon and rosemary rising around us.
“Yes. I feel like we could be close now. I’ve always wanted that.”
“Good,” I say quietly. “I want that too for both of you.”
He hums his agreement and I relax. That’s one hurdle out of the way. Now, I just have to tackle the small issue of him only seeing me as a handy cock. Piece of cake. I’ve never yet met a challenge I’ve backed down from. I kiss his head and we turn back to watch the snow, but my mind is plotting and motoring throughout the quiet peacefulness.
One Week Later
Milo
