"On my jaw?"
"Give me the notebook."
He holds it out of reach, his grin splitting his face. "Quentin Vark, secret artist. This is the greatest discovery of my life. I'm framing this. I'm getting it tattooed on my—"
"Milo."
"Okay, okay." He slides the notebook back, the grin not fading. He wraps both hands around his coffee, watching me over the rim. "Chad was here earlier, wasn't he? I can still smell him. Eau de Insecurity with a hint of hair gel."
I snort. Of course, Milo would pick that up. "He and Kevin stopped by." I don’t elaborate because I don’t want to get into it.
"And?"
"And they left."
Milo studies me, reading whatever my face is giving away. The grin softens into something more careful, his scent softening a little. I guess I have to remind him to take his blockers.Again."Talk to me," he says.
"About Chad?"
"About whatever's making your scent do the thing."
My scentisdoing a thing. I can feel it, the edges going sharper, pine and smoke deepening the way it does when I'm stressed. I snatch the coffee my brother brought for me and take a swig and let the heat settle in my chest. "I don't know who I am without the walls." The honesty surprises me enough that I have to set the coffee down.Shit.
Milo waits. He doesn't push, fill the silence, or even try to make a joke.
"My whole life has been about control. Discipline. Keeping everything measured and contained because that's how I function." My thumb presses against the rim of the cup. "Nine days, Milo. Nine days and I'm drawing her beads in my notebook without realizing it. I'm sleeping better in someone else's nest than I ever have in my own bed. I'm losing arguments with Chad Mercer because I can't focus long enough to—"
"You didn't lose that argument."
"You weren’t even there. Fuck, that's not the point." My jaw tightens. "The point is that I'm losing control of things I've never lost control of, and I don't know what's underneath."
Milo turns his coffee cup slowly on the table, his thumbnail picking at the cardboard sleeve. "Maybe you don't have to know yet."
It's not advice. It's not a fix. It's just a door left open, and somehow that's exactly what I needed to hear. My phone buzzes against the table, stealing my attention. I huff out a sigh and pick it up to see a picture from Iris with no caption, my whole body tensing as I stare at it.
It’s a charcoal sketch. Two figures, one leaning into the other, their forms abstracted and loose but unmistakable if you know what you're looking at. The taller figure has sharper lines and the shorter one is all motion, pressed against the other's side like gravity put him there.
She drew us.
Milo leans over to look. He lets out a little gasp but doesn’t say anything. My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I type a response, delete it, type another, and delete that too. Three attempts that all fall short. I send three words: "I miss you."
I've never said that to anyone. My thumb hovers over the unsend option for three full seconds before her reply comes through.
"Come over."
Milo is already standing, coffee abandoned, scrambling to grab my highlighters. I close my textbook, stack my notes, and open my bag for Milo to drop the rest in. He watches me do this with visible impatience, bouncing on the balls of his feet. When they don’t drop in perfectly, I start reorganizing them, mostly because I’m nervous. I don’t do nervous.
"Q. She said come over. The highlighters can be crooked for one night."
He tugs at my hand and I just sigh, but hasten my step just enough that I don’t seem over eager. The door open when we get there, Iris yelling ‘it’s open’, Milo nearly busting inside a second later. He pauses and then I do, both of us staring at the gorgeous Alpha leaning against the counter in her kitchen.
I swallow nervously, slowly shutting the door behind us. Iris is only in an oversized sweatshirt, a mug in her hands, a sly smile on her face. She’s clearly wearing nothing underneath, her braids pulled into a bun on top of her head. The moment she tilts her head to the side and gives me that look, the one from the budget meeting three months ago, I’m a goner.
It takes four steps to close the distance between us as I remove the mug from her hands and pull her into a kiss. She smiles against my lips. “I’ve been waiting for that.”
And of course, Milo ruins the moment. “Save some of that for me!”
milo
