Page 73 of Learn Your Limits
“I would do anything for you, baby. Have you not figured that out yet?”
The words settle in my chest, spreading warmth through every inch of my body. Using his hold on my hand, Milo pulls me toward him, my free hand instinctively landing on his waist as his lips find mine.
Losing myself in him is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I know I would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of the day just like this, wrapped up in his embrace. But a woman’s voice calling, “I’m here, and I brought coffee!” has us pulling slowly apart. He’s still close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath skating across my lips, and it has me desperate for more.
Thankfully, for the first time, we don’t have to rush. We’re no longer on borrowed time, fighting for every moment we canmanage together. When the day is over, I don’t have to leave. From here on out, my days will start and end with Emiliano by my side.
Which means, whoever has just shown up and interrupted our moment, can stay.
I guess.
“I hope you don’t mind. My best friend, Teresa, wanted to stop by, and she offered to bring us some treats when she found out you were moving in. She knows I wouldn't let her in otherwise,” Milo says with a smirk.
“I don't mind,” I reply. If our relationship was one that hadn't needed to be kept hidden for months, we likely would've already had plenty of interactions with each other's friends. It’s almost a little strange to just now be meeting the person he considers his best friend, but I'm thankful to finally have the chance to be fully immersed in his life.
“Does she know?” I ask under my breath. “I mean, that you were my—”
“I know that he helplessly fell for you from the start, yes,” Teresa comments as she comes into view, her bright lipstick framing her friendly smile. She's standing in the doorway with a drink carrier and bakery bag in her hands. “Honored to finally meet you, Reid.”
Heat rises to my cheeks at her comment of Milo falling for me from the start. I hope he knows the feeling is mutual and how much I've craved his comfort since the first night we spent messaging each other.
“It's nice to meet you, too,” I say.
To my surprise, she pulls an Alani from the drink carrier and hands it to me. “Milo mentioned you aren't a coffee drinker, and I couldn't show up with our caffeine fixes without bringing you one as well.” She laughs, and just like that, any anxiety I may have felt over meeting his best friend evaporates.
The three of us end up moving into the living room, where I settle on the couch beside Milo. His arm is stretched out behind me, his fingers lightly grazing my shoulder as he sips the coffee Teresa brought for him while she and I fall into easy conversation.
Apparently, she's an Arts professor at Oakhart, and it immediately sparks my interest. She asks about my medium preferences and whether or not I have a portfolio I'd be willing to share. I start to tell her that I don't, considering I've never bothered to put together a formal portfolio of my work and only have the various sketchbooks I've held on to over the years.
In truth, I've never considered actually doing anything with my art. It's always just been something that I do for me. But her interest, and the way Milo whispers sweet words of affirmation and encouragement in my ear, gives me the courage to show her some of my more recent work. Thankfully, the pieces I've done of Milo are in a separate sketchbook, meant for only he and I to see.
By the time Teresa leaves hours later, I have an invitation to stop in and observe her classes any time I'd like. And with no longer needing to work at the campus café, I might actually be able to squeeze one or two into my schedule.
Since meeting and falling in love with Milo, all the pieces of my life—including pieces I didn’t realize were missing—seem to be falling into place, and I’ve never felt more likemethan I do when I’m with him.
Chapter fifty-one
Emiliano
An elongated sigh of relief fills the space of my office. After a harrowing semester with an extra course on my plate, we are just a week out from graduation and my grades are officially finalized. At the moment, I’m only waiting on the grading system to update in a few minutes, and then I’ll be free of this desk for the summer.
Even with my reading glasses, my eyes are strained from focusing on the computer for hours on end. I was eager to get these last few late assignments marked, not wanting to take home any work. Completing work at home wasn’t something I minded so much when I was alone, but now, the thought of something taking me away from spending time with Reid is unacceptable.
Work is work.
Reid is my home.
Reclining in my desk chair, I sip at my coffee that has long grown cold from when I first brewed it this afternoon. It’s now late into the evening, and I should consider skipping this last caffeine fix, but I’d like to be awake when I get home to him.
My house has never been messier, but I’ve never been happier. Truthfully, by “messy,” I mean stray pieces of laundry or dishes that soak too long in the sink, nothing to truly gawk at and nothing that cannot be resolved by a spanking session.
I’m grateful for Reid and his efforts in keeping our home a lovely place to live.
Our home.
With taking less shifts and focusing more on his classwork these last few months, Reid has flourished and will be graduating with honors next Friday. I’m immensely proud of him, knowing the hardships he’s had to overcome with his family and their expectations of him. His father still has not spoken to him, but we’ve been able to have dinners with his mother at our house a few times now.
A vibration sounds against the woodtop of my desk, and I turn to watch as a few messages come in from Reid.
