“Because you like my butt? Or am I missing something?”
“Because I like your butt.”
“Thank you. Yours is nice too. And your chest. I like it when you don’t wear a shirt. I mean, I like it when you’re naked, and you’re still attractive clothed too, but shirtless is more realistic for day-to-day living.”
I leaned against the counter, smiling at him. It was impossible to be in a bad mood around Milo. “Are you saying you’d like me to go shirtless when I’m at home?”
“Yes. Please. Thank you. As long as the timing is appropriate, at least.”
I snickered before walking over to him and cupping his cheek. “You only like me for my body and my mad orgasm skills.”
“Is there a problem with that?” he asked, his tone and gaze serious.
“I…you little shit.” I pinched his ass when he started laughing.
“Ouch! Stop. And that was a good one. I definitely had you going.” I pulled him close. Milo rubbed his thumb against my nipple. “I never thought piercings and tattoos would be sexy.”
“That’s because you never met me before.”
“You’re very conceited.”
“Only when I know I’m right.”
“I need to show you something.” He pulled away, changing the subject. He could flip the switch like that when he wanted to, but other times he was hyperfocused on things.
Milo grabbed something from the rack that I hadn’t seen and handed it over. It was a photo of Wilma when she was younger, wearing a black bathing suit. I’d seen it before, on the wall of Gene’s house.
“You went over?”
“I did. Can I tell you about it?”
My chest tingled with the knowledge that he wanted to. I liked when Milo shared things with me, liked hearing about his day and what was on his mind. It made me feel important.
“Yes.” I took his hand and pulled him to the couch. Milo followed easily. We sat down, and he immediately shifted to sit cross-legged.
“Gene told me the story about Wilma placing my mom up for adoption.”
I noticed he’d only used her first name and not both, which meant he’d had a shift inside him when it came to Wilma. It was the same as when he’d called me Gideon instead of Tattoo Guy.
My fingers twitched to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and comfort him, but I wasn’t sure if I should. Milo had made it clear we were friends with benefits, and that was what I wanted too…I thought. Or hell, who the fuck knew? It just felt different to jokingly hold him when we were teasing than to do it now. It felt too boyfriendy.
“I’m here if you want to share that.”
“I already told you I did, silly. I’m just sorting my thoughts so everything doesn’t try to come out at once.”
I nodded, letting him do his thing. The seconds turned to minutes before he finally said, “She got pregnant with my mom when she was sixteen.”
I listened with rapt attention while he shared the story. Wilma meeting a sailor, getting pregnant, her parents almost disowning her, then forcing her away to have Beverly and the adoption; Beverly’s reaction when she found out.
His neck was bent, his gaze angled down, his voice soft. When he finished, Milo swiped at his face, rubbing the stray tear into his skin.
“It’s all really, really sad, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeah, it is. How are you feeling?”
He shrugged.
“Was that another of my dumb questions?” I hoped to pull a smile from him. Milo’s smiles were like winning the lottery.
“No. I liked that one.”
“Come ’ere.” It didn’t matter if it felt like crossing an imaginary line I’d drawn for whatever the hell reason I’d drawn it.
I gently grabbed Milo’s arm, and just like when we’d walked to the couch, he let me lead him. I leaned back, pulling him with me until I lay down with him on top of me. He rested between my legs, my arms around him, his cheek pressed to my chest, skin to skin.
“I wish you could have met her,” I told him, brushing my finger back and forth over his bicep.
“I do too. I want to know everything about her.”
“Gene will share. I can too. I have my stories about her.” His smooth face nuzzled my pec. I willed my cock not to get hard because now wasn’t the time. “Are you going to tell your mom?”
“Yes, but she’s tricky. She’s the most stubborn person I know. When she has an idea in her head, it’s hard to make her see anything else. I have to do it in the right way at the right time, but I’m not always good at that, so we’ll see.”
I kissed the top of his head. “You’ll figure it out,” I said, then found myself asking, “Do you want kids?”
“No, I don’t think so. Most of the time they’re hard to deal with, but I like other people’s sometimes. Cammy is cool when she’s not too hyper. Do you?”