Page 70 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“Not unless you wanna face my parents for me.”

“What?”

“They’re in town.”

“I thought they didn’t travel,” a low voice growls from the doorway.

Scrubbing a towel over his damp hair, Milo rounds the corner to my room in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Why the hell does he have to be so good-looking?

It really isn’t fair.

My upper lip curls in disgust, and I force my gaze away from the sexy man candy in front of me to focus on anything else in the room.

“Eavesdropping much?” I ask, my tone bitter. I’m still pissed off about last night. About his refusal to give us a chance because he thinks I’m not worth it. Not worth the risk. And how he thinks I’m too flighty to commit, and the fact he doesn’t trust me, even when a tiny voice whispershe’s rightin the back of my mind. Heshouldn’ttrust me. Which makes it even worse.

With a sigh, Milo turns to Jake. “Can you give us a few?”

“We were talking,” I argue.

“And now, you’re done talking,” he returns.

Jake shrugs one shoulder and steps around him, leaving me alone with a very brooding, very prickly Milo.

Coward.

“What do you want, Milo?” I ask, defeated.

“I wanna know why your parents are here.”

“I’d tell you if I knew,” I mumble, peeking beneath the blanket to check on a squirming Peanut. She hates being covered when she eats, which is inconvenient, to say the least.

With a huff, I lower a bit of the blanket so she isn’t fully covered and peek up at Milo.

“Can I have a little privacy, please?” I question when I catch him staring.

He clears his throat and looks up at me instead of my breast. “I’ve already seen them, you know.”

“But they weren’t enough to keep you interested the last time, were they?”

“We covered this when I caught you showering, remember?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” I quip. “Now, can you leave me alone, please?”

Scrubbing his hand over his tired face, he asks, “What’s going on with your parents, Mads?”

“Why do you care?” I challenge.

His hands tighten around the towel in his grasp, practically throttling the damn thing. Probably wishing it was my throat. But hey, what do I know?

“Will younotbe difficult for once in your damn life?” he begs, tossing the towel in my hamper next to the door.

“Fine,” I concede, though I don’t bother to hide my annoyance as I fuss with Penny’s blanket again to look busy. And tonotlook so freaking affected by the asshole standing five feet in front of me. “Dove says they were worried since I hit my due date a little while ago and my phone’s disconnected, so they flew down here to check on me. Happy now?”

“That’s…thoughtful,” he admits.

“Maybe.” I glance at him again, all dewy skin and rippling muscles. I used to be able to touch him, and the thought still blows my mind.

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