“Fine.” Her brows jump in challenge as her eyes harden on my face. “Your turn.”
“Truth,” I answer, pointing to one of my cans. “Could you?” She nods, handing it over.
“Have you ever been with a virgin?”
I still, attempting not to react one way or another. “No,” I answer plainly, avoiding eye contact with her before I take a sip from the can nearly shaking in my grip.
Why would she ask me that? Why would shewantto know? Why is she looking at me like she’s holding the reins?
“Dare,” she replies, apparently satisfied by my answer.
“Um.” I swallow, then clear my throat. “Uh…” Thinking of adare other thanclimb into my lapis proving incredibly, increasingly difficult.
“Milo?” she says after a few long seconds ofnothing.
“I’m thinking!”Fuck,am I thinking…Thinking about what that white lace strap leads to. Thinking about howshedefines virginity. Thinking about what she’s done, or not done. Thinking about how I want to be the one to do those things. Thinking and thinking and— “Fuck.”
“What?” She pulls back, making thatfuckingsweater fall even farther down her arm. Since when is a shoulder capable of sending me into cardiac arrest? Because I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. “Are you okay?” she asks as I paw at my shirt with a closed fist, trying to rub the feeling loose.
“I don’t know,” I tell her, laughing without humor. “I donotknow…”
“Is this like the other day? With the phone call?”
I shake my head.No, Prue, this is not another panic attack, but thanks for the reminder that you witnessed that. Though, actually, maybe it is? I’m not sure. This is new. Why is everything new in this woman’s presence?“No.” I offer her a pathetic, exhausted sigh as I take in the sight of her, disheveled and looking at me like she wants to help put me out of my misery. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
“You.” I give her another truth.
She rolls her eyes. “Please…What did I do?”
“I think I need to go….” I should have stayed away. Being in her orbit is impossible right now.
“Dare,” she says, grabbing my hand as I stand. She rises too, lifting her face up toward me as those big eyes pin my feet to the ground, and her thumb seems to unconsciously rub my wrist.
“Prue, I should—”
“Dare me,” she commands in a near-whisper, her voice wavering despite the confidence in those words.
“Prue, this isn’t—”
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” she says, her tone not matching the hurt behind her eyes. “Or am I just lessdesirableto you now that—”
“It’s not like that,” I interrupt. “It’s…” How do I explain these feelings I don’t think I should be having to the person I’m having themabout? What is a cool, chill,cavalierway of saying that I’m in way too deep? That the waves are starting to crash over me. That the ivy is growing, too quick to tame. That my walls keep crumbling around her and I’m afraid that I’m too tired to rebuild them.
No, that’s no good.
“Killer…” I beg as she goes onto the tips of her toes, her free hand finding my shoulder and wrapping around to the back of my neck. “What I’m about to say has nothing to do with you,” I swear to her, before my eyes drift close. “It’s just…”Fuckher grip in my hair feels so, so right. “I don’t do anything but casual. I never will.”
“And?” she whispers. Her fingertips dig into my scalp and my eyes fight not to roll back as soon as I open them. “Did you hear me ask for more?”
“No.” I will have to process later, when my hands aren’t grasping at her hips, why that stung a little.
“Milo, you wanted to kiss me,” she whispers, her parted lips brushing mine so tenderly, I gasp into her mouth.
“That was before,” I reply, mindlessly. “Before we were friends.”
“Yes,andI need you to be my friend,” she tells me, kissing the edge of my jaw. “I think I…I think I’d like your help.”
