Need Me (Mess with Me 3)

“Want a drink?”

“Uh, sure.”

“We have scotch, some dubious-looking wine, and vodka.”

I shrug. “Alcohol. Anything that can make me forget the past three hours.”

He’s about to respond when my phone rings. To my surprise, Milo picks it up as if he has every right to know who’s calling me. He tilts the screen so I can see the face. A picture of me and William taken during our last New Year’s Eve flashes on the screen. I take the phone and hit the button to silence the call.

“I never got around to changing the picture on his profile,” I blurt. Then I’m instantly mad at myself for explaining. I don’t have to justify why I have a picture of my ex on my phone.

“He’s called twice already. Some men really don’t know the meaning of no, do they?”

I climb back on the bed

, satisfied when Milo’s eyes follow the movement of my legs. He hasn’t invited me to take over his bed, but oh well. This is what you get when you stand between a girl and her chill time. I settle back against the pillows and snuggle into the cozy sheets.

“William wasn’t too good at listening in general,” I admit.

“Enough about him. What did you think of the rest of the Lavin team? Obviously, Christiane hates us. But otherwise?”

To my surprise, we spend the next hour talking about everything related to Lavin Fashions. It’s not a surprise to me that Milo has researched their prior campaigns, but he also looked up human interest stories about the brand and found out what their charitable initiatives are. That’s one that I hadn’t thought of yet. Then I tell him about the collaborations Mr. Lavin did before he started the brand. That was something Milo hadn’t thought of.

And in the midst of it all, I can’t help thinking that we make a pretty damn good team.

“Can I ask you something?” Milo asks when there’s a lull in the conversation. We’ve been sitting quietly for a few minutes, but it’s a good kind of silence. The comfortable kind where you don’t feel any pressure to perform and you can just be.

“Sure. I mean you’ve already asked the embarrassing stuff, like how I like my orgasms. How much further down the rabbit hole can we go?”

His smile awakens something in me that I didn’t know was dormant, and I press my thighs together to stop the ache. But as usual, Milo is tuned in to everything I’m feeling. His eyes drop to the juncture between my thighs, and his blue eyes darken. When he speaks, his voice is one shade above a growl.

“Why did you stay with a guy who didn’t satisfy you? One who made you feel that you had to wear long skirts and hide yourself? I’m trying to understand, but I just don’t get it. You’re so strong. I can’t imagine you taking shit from anybody.”

This is the kind of conversation we probably shouldn’t be having when I’m dressed in only his shirt and snuggled next to him on a bed. Maybe it’s the mini-bar wine stealing away the last fucks I had to give, but I just don’t care anymore.

“Even strong women get lonely,” I say finally. “Will isn’t a bad guy, just an oblivious one. And he wanted something I couldn’t give him. Do you know what he said to me at the end?”

He turns over so he’s now facing me directly. “What?”

“He said that settling down with me felt too much like settling. Like I was the consolation prize he’d accepted when he couldn’t find anything better.”

If you’d asked me before that moment, I’d have told you I was over it and that Will’s words didn’t have any power over me. But saying it to Milo in that moment was different, like I could actually admit how much it had hurt.

“And now he’s trying to get you back. You know why?”

I shake my head through the tears that have suddenly sprung to my eyes.

He tips up my chin. “Because he’s finally wised up and discovered how lucky he was to even have a chance with you. A chance that he won’t get again. You are one of a kind, Mya Taylor. And you are no one’s fucking consolation prize.”

My phone rings again, and the picture of Will and me flashes on the screen. Milo looks down at the phone and then up at me. “May I?”

I have no idea what he means, so I shrug. He grabs the phone and swipes right to answer.

“Yes. No, you have the right number, this is Mya’s phone. This is her fiancé.”

My mouth falls open.

“That’s right, her fiancé. A guy who is smart enough to know exactly how special she is and how lucky I am to be with her. A chance you won’t have again, so please fuck all the way off and stop calling.” He pulls the phone away, but then before he disconnects, he puts it back to his ear. “And by the way, pal, her kneecaps are fantastic.”