Page 22 of Learn Your Limits
“I’m not going on a date with a stranger,” I say flatly. I want to tell him that I can't go, but it’s not like I can say that I’m already seeing someone. Not only would that technically be a lie, but I’m also almost positive it would do nothing to dissuade my father from whatever plan he has already set in motion.
“Son, this young lady is not a stranger. She’s Lorenzo Castillo’s daughter. I don’t need to remind you how important this connection is to our company. You will be taking her out for the evening. I will send you an email with everything you need to know.” His words are cold and clipped, leaving no room for discussion. It’s only after the faintclickreaches my ear that I realize he hung up, not that I’m surprised.
A moment later, my phone vibrates again with a notification. I can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes me when I realize he actually emailed me what looks like some kind of profile put together by a private investigator. There’s no fucking way he actually expects me to take this girl on a date simply because hesaid so.
Irritation rolls through me and settles deep in my chest, my stomach twisting at the thought of telling Milo about this. He deserves to know what’s going on, but it’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to.
We might not have any kind of physical relationship yet, but my heart is convinced that he’s mine just as much as I’m his. I would be betraying everything we are working toward by following through with my father’s wishes, yet I don’t see a way out of this. I could pretend to be sick and cancel the date when the time comes, but my father would simply demand I reschedule. Delaying this in any way would only make the situation worse. The only thing I can do is tell Milo when I see him tomorrow and hope he understands.
There was no point in trying to study after the conversation with my father. Instead, I stayed up half the night stressing over how Milo is going to handle the information. I don’t want to risk what we have built. I can’t lose him over this. But I also don’t know what other option I have. My father won’t be satisfied until I’ve met his demands.
The knots in my stomach are coiled so tightly that by the time nine a.m. rolls around, I feel physically ill. I can’t bring myself to walk into a crowded classroom, sit in front of Milo, and pretend everything is fine. Not when I feel as though everything is moments away from imploding. I sent him a message to let him know that I would be missing class this morning, but I doubt he has time to check his phone in the middle of instruction.
I spent way too long wandering around campus before finally ending up at Milo’s office. Knowing we still have to be discreet, I check the hallway to make sure nobody else is around before slipping inside and closing the door behind me. Maybe cominghere is a bad idea, but I don’t know where else to go. He’s become my person in such a short amount of time.
I’m browsing through our past conversations when my phone vibrates in my hand with a new message.
JustMilo:Muñeco, what’s wrong?
There’s no way I can tell him what’s going on over text. I came to his office for a reason. I have to see this through. He has to know what my father is demanding of me, no matter how much it’s killing me. Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I tap out a reply.
CallMeCal:I’m in your office.
He doesn’t respond. I don’t expect him to. Within minutes, his office door swings open. His brows pinch together as he takes me in, slowly stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. I don’t have it in me to continue sitting here. I need to feel the warmth of his body against mine while we’re hidden away from the rest of the world, if only just this once.
“Milo,” I rasp. Stumbling to him, I grab the front of his sweater and pull him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist as I bury my face into the crook of his neck. His body stiffens against mine for the briefest of moments before his arms find their way around my shoulders.
I need to tell him. I have to. But I needthismore. I need to feel the comfort that only he can give me. This man was a complete stranger to me just a few weeks ago, and now he’s...everything.
“Reid, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft and patient as he holds my body against his, grounding me in this moment.
I can’t bring myself to pull away from him as I say, “My father..."
Fuck. Why is this so hard?I’m terrified of how he’s going to react, but he deserves to know. We might be a secret, but I refuse to keep secretsfromhim. I have to tell him the truth, no matter how much it scares me.
What if he decides that dealing with this aspect of my life is too much?
“He’s forcing me to take someone on a date next Friday. He—” My voice cracks, chest heaving with the effort it’s taking to force the words out. My arms tighten around his waist as I anchor myself to him, gathering the strength to continue. “He wants to solidify the connection with her father, and he’s using me to do it.” The words taste like ash on my tongue. Just the thought of being anywhere near someone who isn’t Milo makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Milo keeps me in his arms but wraps a hand around the back of my neck, forcing my eyes to meet his. I’m scared of what I’ll see in them. Is he angry with me? Is he feeling just as sad and broken over this as I am?
What I see is worse.
His brow is furrowed as he looks me over, refusing to show any emotion of his own. I’m here pouring my heart out for him, and I'm not sure he even cares. I can’t take this. I slide my hands to his stomach where his muscles are taut beneath the fabric of his sweater, preparing to push him away. The next words that fall from his mouth have my fingers clenching against him, desperate to pull him closer once more.
“And she’s not the one you want, is she?” Milo's grip on the nape of my neck tightens with the unnecessary question. He knows the answer, but maybe he’s craving it just as much as I’m eager to give it to him.
“No,” I breathe out, shaking my head. “I want you, Milo. Only you. Ineedyou.”
“Lock the door, Reid.” With a flick of his eyes, he brings my attention to the door, my left hand only inches away and itching to follow his command.
I shift away from him just enough to do as he says. The faint click of the lock sliding into place only amplifies the tension coursing between us. His hands immediately find my waist, the final strands of his well-maintained control finally snapping. Shoving me against the wall, his green-gray eyes darken like the clouds of an escalating thunderstorm.
His hands tighten on my waist the way mine had on his, fingers pressing into my skin through the soft cotton of my shirt as a groan escapes me. My eyes fall shut as my head tips back against the wall, shoulders slumping as I revel in his touch. I’m aching to feel the heat of his skin against mine, but if this is all he’s willing to give me right now, I’ll take it.
“Reid.” The sharp tone of his voice has my eyes flying open. His hooded gaze is locked on mine as he steps forward, forcing me to widen my stance as he slips his leg between mine. Milo is a few inches shorter than me when I’m standing, but with this position, we’re eye-level. “Who do you belong to?” he growls.
The question has my breath catching in my throat. I haven’t done a good job at showing him just how much I want him if he even has to ask. “You,” I answer without hesitation, forcing what little resolve I have left into my voice. Every piece of me is his, and I’m dying for another glimpse of the man I met weeks ago.
