by Shelly Crane
I spoke slow and soft. "No offense, Joey, but that's setting him up to fail. He needs to do it for himself, not because he'll disappoint someone else if he fails." She frowned and looked a little angry.
"At the meetings we teach that, yes, a sponsor is someone who helps keep us straight, gives us tough love, but the whole point of that is that the sponsor will do what needs to be done and not care about the addict getting angry with them. The addict needs to learn that disappointing people is going to happen in their life. They can't be afraid of that. What they need to figure out is how to not disappoint themselves. How to live with themselves and the fact that they wake up every day and still want to drink, still want to snort and get high and any other thing that comes their way to escape. They have to forgive themselves and move on; rely on themselves. Learn to be themselves again. Deal with their past. A sponsor is supposed to be an addict who has been through it all and knows exactly what a newbie would need, when they would need it, and what it would take to reach them. A sponsor isn't a crutch or a superhero. A sponsor is a kick in the butt every once in a while."
She looked like I'd grown two heads. She looked at Milo. He looked at her. I waited. She waited, too, seeing if he'd tell her I was wrong. She looked back at me. "But…"
"You did good, Joey," I soothed. Then I did something I thought I'd never do. I moved around the table and hugged her to me. I'd never hugged such a stiff board before. "Thank you for doing what you did. It doesn't even matter the whats and whys. You saved him." I leaned back and saw she had softened an incredible amount. "If you hadn't kept bringing him back to the shelter and making him stay clean…he wouldn’t be here," I whispered the last part, because I was about to lose it just thinking about it.
She stared into my eyes. It was the first time she really looked at me since we got there. "So, you both will always battle this?"
"Once an addict, always an addict," I explained softly.
"Oh." She seemed sad and confused. "I didn't really realize that. I thought once you were over it, you were…over it." She looked at him. "Why did you go to those parties with me if you were having trouble with your addiction?"
"I wasn't really having trouble," he confirmed. "But like she said, once an addict, always an addict. I could control it, but it never really goes away, Jo."
She stood and gawked at him. "But you said you were fine and I assumed you were."
"Define 'fine'. What does that even mean?" He smiled, but his eyes found me with that smile. I smiled back, proud of him. He knew exactly what was going to go down tonight. He needed this, wanted this. His lips twitched before his gaze swung back to Joey. "If it means that I can control myself and that I function like a normal person from day to day, then yes, I'm fine. Does it mean that I don't wake up every single day and think about wanting something, anything, just to take the edge off…then I'm not fine, and I never will be again. No addict ever is."
She plopped back down in her seat ungracefully. "Well…I wish you had said something."
"I felt like I owed it to you to try to be normal."
She sent him a sulky look. Then she looked at Will. "Are you an addict, too?"
"Do whole grains count?" he asked with a completely straight face.
She frowned, her face ticking to the side. "Is that some new thing you smoke?"
Will snorted. Milo bellowed and leaned his head back. Joey was so mad she was red, but it was funny. Eventually the boys stopped laughing at her and we all starting acting like we normally did, mostly.
By the time they brought dessert, I was missing Milo's touch like a physical ache. I sat up with my revelation. I was an addict with him. Was I? No. If it was a normal night, it would be fine. The fact that he didn't want to touch me because Joey was here was what was bugging me.
I heard him. "What's the matter? You don't like gluten-free pudding?" I turned to find Milo's face right next to mine. I stared at him, trying to find an answer to my question there.
"The pudding's fine. It's good."
"You're awfully quiet," he said softly.
"Am I?"
He nodded. "You okay?"
"Yeah. You're awfully far away," I remarked pointedly. "You okay?"
His eyes changed as if he were thinking. He looked between me and the wicker couch we were sitting on the veranda. Will and Joey were having a conversation across from us on their own couch about none of us having any family pets and how it was a travesty.
His eyes met mine again and a small fire could have started right there in my chest. His hand snapped up and wrapped around my neck, but he pulled me slowly and gently to him. His mouth met mine with pressure before pulling back. He looked almost…angry. "You thought I didn't want this?" he whispered. "You thought I wouldn't want you in front of Joey because…why?"
"I don't know," I said truthfully. I didn't know why he was so angry about it. "I believe you when you said you didn't feel anything for her that way."
"Then what?"
"I don't know, Milo. You're just different."
"You think she has a thing for me?" His voice was high and incredulous.
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
He scoffed. "Because she's Joey."
I felt a scowl. "What? She's too beautiful for you? Is that it?"
He rolled his eyes. "Good night, Maya." He grabbed my hand and pulled me up a little roughly. Will and Joey looked up to see where we were going, but one wave from Milo silenced them both and they went right back to talking like none of it mattered.
I huffed when I saw he was taking me to the stairwell. "Milo."
He slammed the back door and yanked me behind it. Before I could think or register what he was doing, my back was against the bricks of the warm hall and his hands were on my face as his fingers inched into my hair.
He didn't beg for entry or ask sweetly to let him in as he had done before. No, his thumb reached over and tugged my chin down to give him access to my mouth and he plunged. His entire body undulated with that plunge and I found myself gripping his wrists near my face to hold on.
I opened my eyes for just a second. I had to see him. I had to see what feral Milo looked like. I slammed them shut immediately because feral Milo was mind-blowing and even then, I couldn't stop the moan against his mouth.
He reached deeper as if he couldn't get enough of it. And then he confirmed. "That noise haunts my dreams," he growled against the corner of my lips.
His knees moved in between mine a split second before he lifted me with ease, his hands finding a new home on my legs and hips as he pinned me there with his body. I could feel the coarse bricks snagging my sweater, but couldn't find it in me to care.
My hands were glad for the change-up because that meant they could go north. His breaths picked up, pants and noises got louder as I pulled and tugged on his soft, dark hair.
His lips never stopped working, never stopped their attention. His kisses were so deep that I eventually broke free and leaned my head back against the wall to breathe. I felt his lips and tongue on my neck. Apparently, all I had done was set up another kind of torture for myself. His arm circled my waist while one stayed on my leg behind my knee.
His teeth grazed my collarbone and I took his face in my hands and brought it back up to mine, keeping my hands there, feeling his stubble and the hard muscles of his jaw as his lips slid and pressed onto mine while his chest and body did the same.
I'd never been handled this way—that I could remember at least. Milo had never been this way with me either, and it was so hot and angry, and yet so sweet that he would get mad about something like that. Still, Milo was the sweetest guy I'd ever known.
As our tongues fought, they slowed. As our breaths collided and panted, they calmed. As his hard grip pulled, he began to loosen them. He took one last long hard pull from my mouth before opening his eyes and looking at me. He was barely a breath away, still holding me captive in more ways than one.
"Now. What the hell was it that you couldn't
understand out there?"
I took a breath. "If we're a couple, we're a couple, right? So why hide it from her? Why make it seem like it's not a big deal?"
He seemed surprised. "I didn't want you to think I was trying to make her jealous." I squinted in confusion. "I didn't think you'd want me to kiss you in front of her, to show off or claim you," he answered, his eyes on mine, not moving for a second.
"I just think…maybe Joey has a thing for you and maybe you know it. Maybe you were protecting her by not—"
"Joey is my friend. That's all. Joey…" He licked his lips and laughed under his breath. "Joey dates older men." He smirked.
"What do you mean?"
"She's dating her boss."
"Ew. Why?"
"Because he's established and already has money and a house, and she doesn't have to start from nothing like her parents. She's watched so many people come into the shelter, for one reason or another. She fears poverty like the plague. She doesn't have a solid grasp on some things. She's my friend, I love her, but she can be pretty shallow."
I stared for a long time and accepted his hazel gaze. Finally, the battle was over and I laid my forehead to his. He sighed. "She doesn't matter here. We don't have to prove anything to anybody or for anybody. I know that I love you and that's all that…"
It had been hinted at, but never spoken, and it was out now. His face scared me for a split second. Was it regret? Was he regretting it was out there? No, he was just worried that I was. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. He held me back tightly, but soon began to smooth my back with his hand. "Sweetheart, you're scaring the bejesus out of me."
I laughed against his ear. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to say anything, certainly not that, but don't just sit here and hang on to me like you'll float away if you don't. You really are scaring me." I leaned back to see his face as he continued. "I didn't think it was that big of a secret."
"It wasn't really." I laughed once under my breath. "I think I've known since the day you bought me tires."
He smoothed my cheek with his thumb. "Joey is the only real friend I've ever had, and you're the only girl I've ever been…" he smiled as he brushed his thumb over my lips, "in love with. I'm sorry I don't know how those two things work together. I thought easing you two together would be better, but it seems like I've just pissed you both off."
I sighed at his sweetness. He was trying so hard to make this work. "It's okay." I kissed him, over and over. "I think the fact that you tried and care at all scores you major points."
"Does it?" he growled against my lips and hoisted me higher.
"Yeah," I sighed.
"Good to know," he joked and cupped my cheek as he took my lips softly.
By the time he was done with me, the feral Milo I had seen before was back in full swing, and we were having to rein it in. He groaned as his fingers combed the hair right behind my ear. "All right, all right." He sighed and licked his bottom lip. "All right. Let's go. Your brother probably thinks I kidnapped you and ran away."
I laughed and fixed his collar where I had wrinkled and gripped it. "Thank you."
He took my face in his hands. "I'm sorry I mucked up the night with trying to keep the peace. I should have left things alone. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry."
"Thank you, though. You did amazing at helping Joey understand what an addict is. I didn't even really understand until you made me see, so thank you."
"That's my job."
"No, it isn't," he argued and smiled gorgeously as he kissed me once more before letting me slide gently to the floor. "I'm not your job."
"No, you're not." My legs ached when he released me. I gripped his arms to steady me and a little groan escaped. "Yikes."
"Sorry," he said with a smug look on his face. His eyes were so lidded they were barely open at all.
"You don't look very sorry."
He sighed and leaned in. "Okay, I'm not very sorry."
"Milo!" I laughed and pushed his chest.
His forehead pressed against mine for a few seconds while he breathed. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. "What?"
"I was so envious of Mason," he explained. "He and Emma are so good together." His head lifted, his throat worked through a swallow. "But I didn't need to be envious of him."
I shivered in his warm arms and shook my head. "You think you're this monster, Milo. You think you're not worthy of anything, of forgiveness, of…" I sighed and licked my bottom lip. "But the things that come out of your mouth—you don't give yourself enough credit. I can't imagine many guys say those kinds of things. No other guy has ever said anything like that to me."
He nodded. "Would it be awful if I was happy to hear it?"
"Yes." I grinned.
"Then I'm awful." He tugged me, his hand gripping and linking our fingers into what felt like an unbreakable bond. "Come on, beautiful girl. Let's take Joey home and then you and I can make out somewhere proper."
I laughed into his shoulder as he towed me out where our dinner guests were. They were right where we left them and didn't seem like they even noticed we were gone. Will looked up and nodded his hello before grimacing and fake gagging. "Gross. Will you two just go make future beautiful babies and be blissfully happy somewhere else? For the love of all who are single."
"Shut it, creep," I hissed playfully and picked up his bowl of chocolate ice cream. "Are you eating this?"
"No, Grandma. I'm just looking at it longingly."
I glared at him. "Any idea how many grams of sodium are in this?"
"Maya," he whined and leaned his head back against the wicker chair. "I thought we were supposed to be having fun tonight? It's just ice cream."
"We are, but—"
"Maya," Milo whispered, his thumb rubbing the inside of my wrist.
I looked at him, ready to let him have it, too, but his eyes glanced at Joey and then at Will before back to me. He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and whispered, "Give the guy a break, sweetheart. He's been cooped up in the house for days, and he's out with a pretty girl."
"But…" I tried not to look over at them. I wasn't his mother, but I was the only one there to look out for him.
"We did eat organic," Milo tried again. His eyebrows lifted.
"Fine." I swatted Milo's stomach and he "oophed" for my benefit. I scowled at Will. "But you better thank Milo later for that ice cream."
"I thought you hated being called Milo?" Joey asked, lifting one blond brow high.
"Not when she says it," he answered immediately.
She scoffed, her mouth open. "What the heck? So I can't call you Milo? You make me call you Miles."
He pointed. "You chose to call me Miles when I said I hated the name Milo. I never said you couldn't call me that. It just rolls off her tongue better."
Joey smirked. "Oh, I bet it does."
I giggled under my breath while Will threw his hands up and said, "I give. I don't know why the three of you are hell-bent on torturing me tonight, but I'm out of here."
"Nu-huh!" Joey called and ran to catch up. "Let's go watch a movie!"
I so did not want to go watch a movie. From the sulking Milo was doing, neither did he, but they looked like they were having fun, and we did make them wait on us. Milo bought everyone's ticket's and we got drinks. By the time the lights went down, the two people in front of us who actually wanted to see the movie were long forgotten, and the guy whose fingers were firmly planted in my hair and behind my knee were all I could concentrate on. It seemed like no time at all had passed and the lights were coming back up. My lips were raw and swollen, but I loved it. I grinned at him as we stood.
"Best. Movie. Ever," Milo growled in my ear from behind me as we made our way out of the rows.
Milo
I stopped by to bring Will some food. Maya and I had a meeting that night, so I told her I would bring him some lunch and at dinner he could warm up for later. And I promised it would be healthy, so I was bri
nging him some veggies, but he was sluggish answering the door. I was about to get worried when the door opened.
"Hey, man."
"Hey," I said and looked him over. He was extra pale. "Did we keep you out too late last night?" I chuckled, but instantly felt terrible. "You don't look so hot."
"Nah, I'm good. Come on in."
I put his containers of steamed veggies on the counter and watched him walk over. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." He smiled and rubbed his hair. "Look, don't feel bad. I had a lot of fun last night. This isn't from last night, I promise."
"Okay," I said, not believing a word of it.
He leaned on the counter with his elbows. His breathing was a little louder than usual. "You know what I have, there's no cure for it, right? There's no medicine. There's no way to stop it."
I scowled. "But Maya—"
"Maya believes there's hope, and that's what I want her to believe, but that's just not the truth. Some people can't be saved. I just…" he cleared his throat, "I just want you to know that I'm really glad you came along. She hasn't been this happy since my mom was alive."
Whoa, that was a big statement to fill. "Will, will you stop talking like—"
He started coughing…and kept coughing.
"Will?" I went to his back and patted it a little, hearing him clear his throat. When he fell to the floor and I had to catch him, I knew it was bad. "No, no, no."
I yanked out my cell and called 911, telling them I needed help and the address. Then I dialed the number I dreaded most of all. Her sweet, chipper, playful voice ripped me in two. "Maya, come home, now."
"Milo, what's wrong?"
"Will."
She didn't ask questions. She hung up and I knew she was on her way. Will struggled to breathe so I laid him out flat and tilted his head back to keep his throat open. His eyes were on me. He shook his head. "It's my time," he rasped. "Milo, it's okay."
"No, it's not," I answered.
"Yes," he argued back. "Milo, it's my time."
"No!"
"Thank you for giving me some fun," he whispered and smiled, even as his skin turned pale. "Watch her for me, man."