Page 161 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“What are you––” we say at the same time, though his eyes are wide with shock.

“You first,” I offer, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

He folds his arms and leans his shoulder against the doorjamb. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Obviously,” I add as I rock back on my heels again and tuck my thumbs into my back pockets. “W-what are you doing in there?”

“Coping.”

“I can, uh, I can see.” My gaze drops to the black smudge on his stubbled cheek while Eminem’s lyrics continue to overshadow our entire conversation. “Does the hotel manager know you’re…coping in there too?”

“Lou owes me.”

“Oh.” I purse my lips and tilt my head to one side, attempting to peek around his massive frame, though it’s useless. “Can I, uh, come in?”

“What?” he asks, though I have a feeling he heard me despite the loud music.

“I asked if I could come in,” I repeat.

“Why are you here, Em?”

Em.

There’s the blasted name again. I never mind when anyone else calls me by my nickname. But I do with Milo.

I care so much that with one simple syllable, he’s almost brought me to my knees. But no matter how much I want to run, to hide in shame, I keep my head held high and meet his stone-cold gaze with one filled with heat. And passion. And a fire only he’s ever been able to stoke in me.

“I’m here to apologize,” I start, hating the way my voice is shaking.

“So, do it.”

“I-I’m sorry––”

“Fine. You’ve apologized.” He starts to close the door, but I slam my hand against it, keeping it from shutting.

“I’m here to beg you to give me another chance,” I continue. “I’m here to fight for you. I’m here to make you understand I’m sorry, and there isn’t anyone else I’ll ever want but you andonlyyou. I’m here to tell you, despite whoever’s blood runs through Penny’s veins, she’s still yours. She’llalwaysbe yours. If you’ll have her.”

His expression twists with torture as he shakes his head back and forth. “You make it sound so easy––”

“I think we both know life with me is the furthest thing from easy,” I return with a sad smile. “But I’d like to hope you might think I’m worth it. And if you want a paternity test, I’ll get it done. If you want me to move out, I’ll make it happen. If you want me to disappear, I’ll do my best to lie low. But only for a little while. Not forever––”

“What if it’s what I want?” he counters, refusing to give me a damn inch.

“For me to disappear?”

“Yeah.” He lifts his chin defiantly. “What if it’s what I want? Because my life is a hell of a lot easier when you aren’t in it.”

He’s right.

It’s probably aloteasier.

But I’m hoping it’s a lot less fulfilling too.

On shaky legs, I step over the threshold and into the tiny hotel room without waiting for an invitation, placing my hand on his chest. The pace of his beating heart against my palm matches mine and gives me hope I’m not alone, and maybe he feels the same way I do. Maybe he’s simply too scared to admit it.

“You’ve never been one to take the easy road, Milo, and I don’t think you want to start now. Not when I know you love me the same way I love you.”

He squeezes his hands into fists, turns on his heel, and marches toward the damn stereo system blaring way too loud for a hotel room. I’m surprised no one has called the service desk and tattled. Or maybe they have, and no one has wanted to confront Milo.

---