Page 139 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“Yeah. Do you want Penny to ride with me?” Milo asks.

I shake my head, so he hands her to me.

“You nervous?” he asks as I buckle Peanut into her car seat by the front door. I can feel him watching me, making every hair on my body stand on end.

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous? Areyounervous?”

With a brisk nod, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah. It’s hard putting yourself out there like this. Everyone judging your work. Interpreting it however they want. Criticizing it. It’s gonna be rough.”

Shoving aside my insecurities, I snap the last buckle of Penny’s car seat into place and stand up. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” On my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his, savoring his unique taste while terrified it’ll be the last time I experience it.

“You’re going to do great, Milo,” I whisper. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Again, the same worried expression takes over his features as he studies me carefully. Peeling away every single barrier I’m forced to keep in place to hide my mistakes from him. And there are so many.

With a tight smile, I reach for the car seat, but he grabs my wrist.

“What’s going on?” he demands.

“What?”

“I know you. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lie.

“Tell me.”

I shake my head and twist out of his hold. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I can tell when you’re upset, Mads, and you know I’m not one for bullshit.”

“Can we not do this?” I beg. “I don’t want you to be late.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not feeling great tonight.”

His brows soften, and he cups my neck, dragging his thumb along my jaw. “What kind of sick?”

“I have a headache. I’ll be fine, though. But it’s the real reason I wanted to drive separately. Not that the odds of Penny getting fussy aren’t high or anything, but you know what I mean. And I didn’t want you to be mad if I bailed, which is why I was––am,” I correct myself, “acting weird. I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” He leans in and kisses me again. “Is this what you wanted to talk about upstairs? You aren’t feeling well but didn’t want to miss the show?”

I shake my head. “No, it was…something else. But we can talk about it later. Promise.”

“Okay.” He pauses, still studying me carefully. Still unconvinced. Still too astute for his own good.

“I love you,” he reminds me.

I close my eyes and let the words wash over me. Rising onto my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his. Again. Like I can’t get enough of him. Like I don’t know whether or not it’ll be the last time.

“I love you too.”

“Let me help you get Peanut in the car,” he offers.

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