“I know. You just like to stay in the distance. I get it.”
That one hits me in the gut a bit. It’s not that I like to stay in the distance, whatever that means. There’s nothing I want more than to get up close with Milo.
And the way he says it fucking kills me. His voice is gentle, but firm, and I can tell he’s accepted this about me. He’s accepted that I’m not totally available, and I really need him to accept that, but I fucking hate it now that he has.
Shit, this isn’t right. And when I spot a sadness on Milo’s face, my chest hurts.
“Yeah, uh, sorry,” I mumble, wishing I could think of more to say.
“It’s okay,” Milo tells me again. “It’s actually just kind of a hard day for me.”
“Why’s that?”
He sighs. We’re off in the corner, away from the crowds, but he still lowers his voice. “I don’t want to burden you with it,” he says.
I clear my throat. “I asked,” I say firmly.
“It’s just… This is the anniversary of the week my dad died. I’m glad there’s this event for a distraction, but it’s hard to totally forget.”
My chest hurts. He’s still holding a smile, like he always does, but I know how painful days like this are.
“I remember that you don’t like talking about him,” I say. “You told me that while you were getting the ink. But I know, even if you had a tough relationship, that still sucks.”
Milo slips his hand into mine. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It does suck.”
We stand there in silence, holding hands. My head spins as I try to figure out what to say, how to comfort him. Finally, I release his hand and push up the sleeve on my thermal to show him the tattoo under the schooner, the simple date inked there in black. “That’s my mom’s birthday. She passed about five years ago.”
Milo blinks. “Oh. I’m sorry, Joey.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Sorry about your dad. My mom was, uh, not the easiest woman. But I still miss her.”
“I miss my dad. It’s like with my hometown. I wasn’t very happy there, but I’m still sad that I had to leave.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t dump this on you.”
I wince. “You didn’t dump anything on me, beautiful.”
Another second passes in silence. I think about how strong Milo is. Even with everything that weighs him down, he’s still here, smiling with friends and finding a way to make the best of it. Most people I know are cynical, cold, but he’s tough enough that the world hasn’t broken him.
“Anyway,” Milo says, “I’m just glad you came. And even though I know I won’t be able to drag you out for drinks with my friends and take you home later, we’re still on for Saturday night, right?” His voice lifts again, warming. “I’m excited to see your apartment again.”
I push through everything that’s stopping me and touch him. I reach out and place my hand on Milo’s cheek, and I feel his soft skin as his smile broadens beneath my touch. I do it because I don’t know how to say what I really want, but maybe he can feel some of it in my touch.
“Can’t wait to have you over, beautiful.”
Milo’s eyes widen, like they do every time I call him beautiful. “Thanks, Joey.”
I hold him in my gaze for a minute, thinking about how great he is and how lucky I am to know him. That good, warm feeling settles over me completely. I want to feel like this all the time. I could devote my life to making Milo happy and never need another thing.
I pull my hand back slowly, and that’s when I realize what I have to do.
Not right now, not with his friends here and at Rafael’s event. But next time we talk, I need to tell Milo the truth.
I’ve spent my whole life sworn to secrecy about my family, but I can’t keep that oath anymore. Milo deserves to know who I am and what I’ve done. It’s the only honest way to explain to him why we can’t really be together. Even after everything that’s happened with my family, it still twists my stomach to think of betraying them, but I owe Milo better.
I owe us both the truth.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
MILO
