“Sure, nothing better to do.” I chance a look in Ollie’s direction. He’s settled on his back with his arms folded behind his head. “Let’s do something after though. I don’t feellike coming back here right away. Seems like we never get to do anything anymore.”
I bite the corner of my lip, thinking it’s probably my fault.Up until recently, I worked through the week most nights. Now it seems like every spare minute I’m training with oneof the guys, so I don’t accidently lose controls of our shared abilities.
“What are you thinking?” Milo has one brow raised in interest.
“I don’t know, something.” Ollie pauses. “Hey, let’s go to the movies.” He sits up, a smilebeginning to form on his lips, but there’s a mischievous quirk I don’t quite understand as he turns slowly to look at Milo.
“Movies…” Milo tilts his head, looking back at Ollie, and they seem to share a silent conversation. I shuffle my feet, feeling slightly left out.
“We can get popcorn and tons of snacks, it’ll be good. We can relax, and not in this huge, flat bed.” Ollie smacks his hand on Ares’s bed. “We’ll go into Monroe, to the theater with the heated reclining seats.” Ollie makes his brows jump with the suggestion.
I’ve only been to the movies a few times, it’s no fun going by yourself, and Mom didn’t enjoy leaving the camper very much over the past few years. I saw a play once, for a field trip with a bunch of classmates at an old movie theater, and it was probably one of the fanciest places I’ve ever been. Gilded chandeliers and sconces hung from the walls and ceiling, and I enjoyed being there more than I liked the play. I don’t think we’re talking about the samekind oftheater though, the one I went to had small, hard seats that folded up when you weren’t sitting down. A heated recliner sounds even better.
“What’s playing, anything good?” Milo asks, throwing the covers off and revealing his bare legs. Icatch a glimpse of his maroon boxer briefs, which are riding high on his thigh, before casting my eyes to the floor. His baggy shirt was doing a good job hiding his defined muscles, but with one glimpse of his powerful thighs, I remember that strength is actually his ability. Even though his bodyis honed and cut, the muscles hard and detailed, I know it’s only a hint of his true power. Just like you can’t see Dante’s lion by looking at him, or Ollie’s ability to wieldfire, Milo couldbe gifted with strength, even if he was as thin and meek. Instead, he’s perfected his body with rigorous workouts, and all the sports he plays.
“I can look, but does it really matter? Ijustwant to get out of this house for a few hours.”
“I don’t care either, but we at least need to know the movie times.” Milo twists his torso, using his left hand to grab his right shoulder as he stretches.His shirt is gathered up at the waist, exposing his tight, round butt. I jerk my eyes away, but I notice Ollie watching me with a smirk on his lips, and he wiggles his eyebrows at me. Knowing I got caught staring, I wrinkle up my nose and purse my lips. I’m embarrassed, but it would be way worse if Milo caught me staring at Ollie, at least Ollie always makes everything a joke.
“Why are your cheeks so pink, Muenster?” Ollie teases, and Milo turns so he can get a look at me after his question.
I press a hand against my flushed cheek, and glare at Ollie. “I don’t know,” I grumble through my clenched teeth. Ollie rolls his lips in to keep from laughing.
“Oh, are you feeling okay? You look a little hot, fever?” Milo walks over, placing the back of his hand on my cheek, then forehead. I dart my eyes to Ollie, who is holding a fist against his mouth, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“I’m okay Milo.” I take his hand from my head and give him what I hope is a convincing smile.
“If you’re sure?” He doesn’t sound convinced, so I nod up at him. Dropping a gentle peck to my lips, he breathes, “Okay.”
I tip my chin up, chasing his kiss with one of my own. When he pulls back his eyes search mine. “I’m going to jump in the shower, wait for me before you guys get breakfast?” He glances over his shoulder at Ollie. Thankfully, Ollie has regained his composure and agrees.
Chapter 7
Iwatch Milo close the bathroom door and round on Ollie with my hands on myhips, except I don’t know what to say. It’s not like he did anything wrong, but I still want to call him out on teasing me.
“Something to say?” he quips, his lips pursed as he dares me to challenge him. I narrow my eyes on him, and that’s all the warning he gets before I run at him with every intention of tickling him until he cries for mercy.
“Whoa!” he exclaims as his eyes go wide. He lifts his hands in surrender, but it’s too late. He has no clue what I’m planning, so it’s easy to get my hands on his sides. He’s only wearing a pair of low-slung flannel pants, and his bare chest is on full display, an easy mark for my searching fingers as I dig into his sides.
He bends over with a jolt, tucking his arms tightly to his abdomen, and a few bursts of laughter fall from his lips before hedecides to fightback. Easily flipping our positions, he pushes me against the wall near the bed and his hands tickle over my waist, then move up near my armpits. I squeal, already knowing I’ve lost the element of surprise and the battle, now thathe’s turned the tables on me.
“Okay… okay,” I pant, “I give up.”
Ollie snorts. “So?” He continues to tickle me, moving one hand under my chin and the other to my side at the side time.
“Pl… ease… I’m… going. To pee.” That earns me a dark chuckle.
“That was sneaky, I’m almost proud of you, but I play to win Muenster.”
I can barely breathe through my laughter, I’m not even making real sounds anymore, just a bunch of air escaping from my lungs and squeals as I twist and turn.
“Gonna… pee,” I threaten, which mightactuallyhappen if he doesn’t stop soon.
Ollie lets out a long sigh and slows his fingers, but he doesn’t back away from me. His left hand goes to the wall above my head while the other stays on my hip, his finger flexing, but it’s not to tickle me. No, this time it’s as if he can’t help himself. Ollie brushes his body against mine, and I pant, still short of breath, but breathless from his touch as well.
He angles his head down so his forehead touches mine. “I like playing with you,” he murmurs, licking over his lips in an invitation.
“You were teasing me,” I defend, as I explain why I was attacking him with tickles.
