Milo did eat, then refilled his bowl and ate that too, and he was hopefully eyeing the pot but wanting Rowan to get a second bowl first. He didn’t want the other man hungry. He could always go for some of his snacks.
Rowan scooped up a second bowl for himself but then snagged Milo’s bowl and filled it with the rest of the contents. He handed the bowl over without a word, not realizing Milo’s heart pounded. When asking for more food, Milo was usually teased, or scolded, or met with an exasperated look. Even Ray, his best friend, just rolled his eyes when Milo asked for more. Rarely in his life had someone simply accommodated him, making sure he had enough to eat. Rowan did so without even a word or a sign of impatience. Why was he so thoughtful? So generous? Didn’t he understand that Milo’s willpower, even on the best of days, was nothing more than dregs in a cup?
Especially after the last fight with Andrew, just a few days prior, he was feeling a touch raw. It had been a nasty fight, with them screaming at each other and Milo beingthis closeto hexing his ass, fine be damned. Right now, Milo wanted something comforting. Rowan offered that comfort without making Milo beg or barter. Rowan silently supported him, and dammit, Milo wanted to seduce him now.
But should he?
If this went sideways, Milo would be stuck on the far end of the country for the remainder of his contract, likely seeing the man who’d rejected him every single day, without friends or allies to lean on for support while he licked his emotional wounds. He saw the pitfalls, he really did. Some part of his brain insisted pursuing Rowan wasn’t wise. Milo normally ignored that partof his brain, but maybe he should listen this once. Ignoring his common sense didn’t normally end well for him. See: Dating History.
Milo instead applied himself to eating every last grain of rice out of his bowl. “Since you cooked, I’ll do dishes.”
Rowan nodded in acquiescence but also kind of stared at him, poleaxed. Didn’t think he could eat three bowls, huh? Well, he was wrong. Milo was kind of proud of his bottomless stomach in that moment.
Milo didn’t do something as mundane as using soap and water to wash the dishes, of course. Cleaning spells existed for a reason. Reason being he hated doing dishes. So, without even rising from the log, he whipped out his wand and set to it, watching as everything was cleaned in a split second. Then he used a levitation spell to stack the dishes and put them back in their crate.
With a low groan, Rowan stood up from the log, stretching his arms toward the sky enough that Milo caught a glimpse of a delicious happy trail hovering above the waist of his pants. Milo nearly moaned at the sight, filing the image away for naughty material. Unaware of Milo’s heated thoughts, Rowan made his way toward his bedroll and folded his body in with more grace than Milo would expect for a man of his size. It was rather late—at least late enough to turn in, since they’d be up with the sun to continue their trip. Milo had no problem going to bed at this point except he was still kind of antsy.
It didn’t take much thought as to why.
Milo was alone with a man he found hella attractive, someone who wasn’t put off by his chaotic nature, and he reaaaaaally wanted to capitalize on it. Rowan had given him zero signs of interest aside from the snuggling, which could have just been him being nice. In fact, when they’d talked of their dating historyearlier, he hadn’t stated gender one way or another. Did he even like men?
Knowing Milo’s luck, the man was straighter than a ruler.
Still, Milo had always pushed his luck, which meant he felt like testing the waters here, too. Sometimes pushing his luck had garnered really good results, so why not take the gamble? Worst thing the man could do was tell him to stop.
Decided, he seized his bedroll and placed it right up against Rowan’s before plonking himself down. He took off his shoes and jacket, as he didn’t want to sleep in those, obviously. Although if he got too cold, he’d put the jacket back on. The cloak he’d sneakily set aside, as it would have hindered his plans. Then he snuggled his way down.
In the low light from the fire, Milo could see Rowan was once again watching him from the corner of his eye. “May I help you?”
“I’m sleeping next to you for warmth,” Milo explained brightly, then inched closer.
“I thought you had heating charms?” Was that a tinge of amusement in his voice?
“Eh, you’re better.”
Milo caught the subtle jerking motion of the body beside him, like Rowan was laughing on the inside. Oh, he shouldn’t have done that—Milo was just encouraged. Emboldened, he moved up against Rowan’s side and threw an arm over the man’s waist, noting the firm muscles pressed beneath his arm.
Then he held his breath.
Rowan let out this little sigh, like he was put upon. But he didn’t move. He didn’t tell Milo to move. He just…accepted it.
Wow. Really? Maybe Milo should explain that unless he heard a no, he would charge full speed ahead. Well, no. If he did, Rowan would stop indulging him. But on the other hand, he really needed to learn where he stood with this man. Hmm, decisions, decisions.
The night grew thicker, darker, with the only sounds being the crackle of the fire and the song of insects in the brush. It was incredibly peaceful, really. Even the horses were nodding off. With a long day of travel behind him, Milo should have dropped off to sleep without much trouble.
Unfortunately, he had miscalculated. Sure, teasing Rowan was super fun, but now he was all pressed up against this deliciously handsome male and his libido wanted to do something about it. Milo hadn’t had sex in ages. The last person he’d had sex with was Andrew, and he absolutely refused to think of that. And…and… Fuck.
Maybe the common sense part of his brain should have more priority.
A warm large hand came to rest on top of his. “Why are you fidgeting? Settle.”
“I, uh, am trying. Also failing.”
“Why?”
Rowan’s fingers started to play with his, a light tussle that shouldn’t have been anything, but Milo’s skin tingled at the brush of callused skin against his own. He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Rowan’s fingers. He could totally suck one of those fingers into his mouth. That would be fine, right?
Wait, Rowan had asked a question. Problem was, Milo would rather cut off his tongue than answer said question. “Just fidgety, I guess.”
