“Prue, if you can hear me, it wasn’tactuallytwelve—”
“It was,” Nik says to me, while his brother continues to speak. “See you soon, Mi,” he says, interrupting Milo’s rambling, then hangs up. “So, dinner?” Nik asks me, slipping his phone into his pocket.
I sigh, shaking my head as a smile overtakes my face. “Yes, sure, why not. Should I bring anything?”
Nik picks up his groceries. Pointing to the bag in his hands, he says, “No, I think we’ve got it all covered.”
I watch Nik exit just as I see Milo run across the parking lot, flipping off his brother as he runs toward the entrance with a handful of wildflowers in hand.
He’s at the checkout desk before the bell over the door finishes ringing, and practically tosses the collection of daisies and weeds across the counter at me.
“What else did that prick tell you?” he asks me, fighting to catch his breath.
I look between Milo and the flowers with one raised brow. He looks good today. He’s wearing a baggy white T-shirt and black shorts that show off tattoos I’d yet to see on his knees and calves. I cannot help but wonder when I’ll get to see them all. And I also cannot help but wonder what story I’d have crafted for him if he’d just been a customer wandering through our shop’s aisles one afternoon. It probably would not have been one that involvedmeplaying a leading role.
“Oh, and,” he says, leaning on the counter as he gasps for air and points to the flowers, “happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” I smile, shaking my head. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Milo asks,his hesitant smile settling into place as he straightens to stand. “You can say no…. I don’t know the…parameters of an agreement like ours but you can come over as my friend and not my—”
“I’ve already said yes,” I interrupt. “Did yourunall the way here?” I ask, letting out a weary laugh at his expense. “You are really fighting for your life right now.”
“Yes, I did. I regret it deeply.” He swallows. “And then…after dinner…” He stops to take in another breath. “We’ll talk? About this?” He points between us. I smirk, studying him curiously as his chest rises on another deep breath in, then he turns those dark eyes to mine. “What?” he asks me, growing both visibly nervous and excited by my fixed stare.
“Twelve, huh?” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “When didthosestart?”
He rolls his eyes, smiling up at the ceiling. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Oh, but it already has.“Twelve,” I repeat, smirking.
He leans across the counter, smelling of sweat and that primal-urge scent only available tohim.“Is that a yes to talking later? We need a plan before we can do anything”—his eyes dip down to my lips—“fun.”
“It’s a yes.” For all of it.
Fifteen
Milo
The dreadful feelingis back. Actually, feelings,plural.I fear that they’re multiplying.
I’m sitting across a half-decimated dining table from Prue as she holds my newborn niece, Harper, in the crook of her arm and listens to Sef share her harrowing birth story. The oldest kids are having a movie night downstairs while Nik bathes the youngest two upstairs. Nadia sits to my left, picking slowly at the second helping Nik insisted she should eat. I guess I wasn’t the only one who thought she’d been looking a little too thin.
And, throughout all the noise and chaos and chatter, my eyes are glued to Prue and that tiny baby in her arms.
And Iknowsomething is deeply, deeply wrong with me because I keep wanting to interrupt their conversation and ask Prue if she wants a baby of her own someday. Or somedaysoon. Like,I don’t know,ten or so months from now.
I’m sick in the fucking head. Prue is a liquid curse, rotting my brain to an unrecognizable state, and I keep coming back to drink as if I have a death wish.
“Milo?” Sef says my name in a tone that would suggest it’s not the first time she’s said it. I peel my gaze away from the curlresting against Prue’s collarbone and find Sef’s expression,drenchedin sardonic glee. “Hey, champ,” she says with a laugh. “Welcome back.”
“What?” I blink back to focus, finding myself mirroring Sef’s grin. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
“I was just saying that I have to go get Harp down for the night, but I’m sure you’d be willing to give Prue the tour of your room, yeah?”
“Jesus,” Nadia mumbles into her cup of water.
I nod, catching up. “Oh, uh, sure, yeah.” Because I stand so abruptly, my chair nearly falls backward before Nadia reaches out and catches it. I pick up my dishes, nearly dropping them all when Prue giggles.
