Page 65 of Milo
He shrugs. “Just looking. You’re gorgeous when you laugh.”
I hum awkwardly. “Well, I’ll be less gorgeous when this next batch of bruises come out.”
His expression instantly smooths into concern. “Yes. How’s the knee?”
I shrug. “It’s fine. Just a bang.”
“You went down with a real clatter, Lo. I thought you’d broken something.” He pauses. “Maybe we should get a doctor to have a look. Just in case.” I stare at him open-mouthed and he looks instantly self-conscious. “What?”
I shake my head. “Did you just offer to get a doctor? You, the man who went two days with a broken leg because you said you were sure it was just a muscle strain.”
He rubs his hand over his face, looking awkward. “Yes, well, this is different.”
“How?”
“It’s you.”
The simple words stop me dead and I stare at him, an awful suspicion running through me. “This isn’t part of you still thinking I’m ten is it, Niall, because I can assure you that I’m old enough to look after myself. I don’t need a protector.”
“Ugh, I’m totally aware that you’re not ten.” He shrugs. “I don’t want to be your protector. I want …”
He hesitates. “What?” I ask softly, almost unwilling to ask for fear of what it will reveal.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He shrugs and gives a wry smile, and I know he feels the same and he’s not going to analyse what is growing here. I don’t know whether I’m disappointed or relieved.
He settles back against the tub and, reaching one long arm out, he pulls me to him. I plaster myself against his side and sigh happily. He grins and lifts his head to let the snowflakes kiss him, and I stare at the wide cheekbones dusted with freckles and the full lips and big nose.
Without opening his eyes, he squeezes me. “When are you going to talk to him?”
I stiffen slightly but he doesn’t stir, just tugs me closer. “Not yet,” I mutter. “It hasn’t been the right time.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” I say, slightly stung. “What with the homicidal twins going at each other all the time, Sam pissed from seven in the morning, and my brother doing his whole enigmatic Greta Garbo act, there hasn’t exactly been time.”
He groans. “I’m so sorry. I thought having others would lighten it up. I just didn’t want you stuck with the three of us with that look on your face.”
“What look?” I ask crossly, and he grins.
“The sort that says you’re trying to work out all the sexual positions that were involved.” He opens his eyes and directs a very serious expression at me. “Don’t bother. What I did with them is like comparing mutton to steak.”
“Oh, a lovely meat analogy. Lucky, lucky me.”
He grins. “It’s true. Nothing I did with them is anything more than a pale echo of the way we are. Nothing.”
I stare at him, my fingers stroking down his chiselled chest. “Really?”
He nods. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”
“But this thing between us is still going to get too boring for you in the end.” He stares at me and I rush on, blurting out my secret thoughts. “I mean it’s just sex with one person. At some point, it’s going to feel too staid for you and I know you’ll want to be off and filling your bed with more people.” I hesitate, wishing my voice had some conviction in it when I say the next words. “I’ll be fine if you want to finish whatever this is and move on. I just ask that you’re honest and tell me before you do it.”
He sits up, his eyes turbulent. “You’d be fine with me fucking other people?”
I nod, biting my lip, unable to hold his eyes which are burning with some emotion. “We didn’t start this with any commitments beyond hooking up, so you’re still free.”
“Stop right now,” he says sharply. He stands up, unleashing a surge of water over the sides of the tub. “Just stop fucking talking, Milo.”
“Niall,” I say urgently and try to grab him but he turns and storms off, banging into the door in his haste. “Niall,” I shout and jump out of the tub, hissing as I land on my bad knee. I scramble up and dart into the bedroom, which is empty. For a second I think he’s gone out, but then I hear movement in the bathroom and I rush to the door.
