He drags his tongue along the seam of my lips. Not demanding, rather asking for permission to taste me. For me to open myself up to him again. A brush. A lick. A request.

It’s softer. Sweeter. This kiss is laced with a tenderness Milo rarely shows anyone, let alone someone who’s hurt him in the past, as he cups my cheeks and rubs his thumb gently against my skin.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn my head.

“I can’t do this again,” I whisper, my own self-preservation yelling at me to end this right now so he can’t hurt me again like the last time. Like all of the other times when I put myself out there and took the leap. When he wasn’t there to catch me.

“Stop pushing me away,” he rasps, his voice raw and gritty as he rests his forehead against my temple. “Stop pushing your parents away. At least give us the chance to screw up before hating us for it this time.”

I twist out of his grasp and stare back at him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t hate you. I couldneverhate you. And that’s the problem.” I’d laugh if it weren’t for the way he’s looking at me right now. Pained. Nervous. But with so much longing, I could cry. “I’m terrified out of my mind of being rejected again. Of not being enough. For my parents. Foryou.”

His warm hands cup my cheeks again as he leans closer and rests his forehead against mine. Every movement careful. Deliberate. Precise.

“You’re enough,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn, too hurt to admit it, but it’s true. You, Madelyn Walker, are enough.”

“You can’t know that. Not when you don’t know everything I’ve done.”

With a sigh, his breath mingles with my own. “You need to have a little more faith. Even when you do screw up, and wealldo, you gotta trust the people who care about you won’t hold it against you anymore.”

“So much easier said than done.” I sniff again. “Especially when I feel like every mistake I’ve ever made winds up blowing up in my face. No forgiveness. No understanding. Nothing. Only a big fat,I told you so, orwhy are you so difficult, orthere are consequences to your actions, Madelyn. I...I can’t take it anymore. Disappointing people. My parents.” My lashes are wet with unshed tears as I peek up at him again. “You.”

“Which is why you push people away,” Milo concludes, rubbing his thumb back and forth along my jaw. “But they’retryingin there.I know it’s hard, but can you try not to push them away for Penny’s sake? Pushmeaway and trust me?”

“So much easier said than done,” I repeat.

“I care about you, Mads.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and whisper, “But why don’t you want me?”

“Mads––”

“Let me rephrase. Why don’t you want meenoughto let go of the damn crystal ball and want me forme? Flaws and all. Not just for the sex––”

“I want you for more than the sex, Mads.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying,” he growls. “And the fact you said I didn’t want to buy the cow when I could get the milk for free in there?” He shakes his head, his fingers flexing against my jaw. “It’s messed up, babe.”

I drop my gaze to the ground, unable to hold his any longer. Not when he’s looking at me like this. Like I’m perfect. Wanted. Like I hung the moon.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I beg him. “Everything was going great until I told you I wanted more––”

With a bruising grip, he grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of rejection, Madelyn. I want you, okay? I’ve always wanted you. And not just for the goddamn milk.”

“Milo––”

“I want you for the sleepless nights. For the yelling matches. In sickness and in health. I wanna make more babies with you. I don’t want you to spend another second wondering whether or not I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you on Marty’s lawn. Nothing’s changed. Not before you delivered my baby. Not after. You’re still the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Both inside and out. I. Want. You.”

He bends closer and presses his lips to mine again, sealing his words with an obliterating kiss. When he pulls away a few seconds later, his warm eyes aren’t hesitant or unsure. If anything, there’s a peace in them I’m not sure I’ve ever seen, and it’s almost enough to erase Marty’s name from my memory.

Almost.

“We should probably go back inside,” I murmur.

“We’re not done with this conversation.”

“I know. I…”