by M. Malone
“Baby! You’re home!” The older woman bustles from behind the counter and holds her arms open to Mya. Then she turns to me, a speculative gleam in her warm brown eyes. “And who is this handsome man?”
Mya turns to me with an apologetic smile. “Mom, this is Milo. He’s my… he’s my…”
“I’m her boyfriend. It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Taylor.” I extend my hand and am immediately yanked into a bone-crushing hug.
Over her mom’s shoulder, I see Mya wringing her hands and hopping from foot to foot.
Mrs. Taylor finally releases me with a soft exclamation. “Call me Martine, please. Oh, I need to turn the stew down. Mya, don’t leave that nice boy in the doorway! Invite him in. Your father will be back any minute. He went to the store to get some more milk.”
“I’m so sorry about this,” Mya whispers. “You can go if you want. I’ll catch up with you later. My parents like to drop by sometimes out of the blue.”
“Leave? You think I’m giving up this opportunity to find out more about pre-ballbuster Mya? Not a chance.” I close the door behind me and hang my coat by the door.
When I turn around Mya is watching me, her face both hopeful and wary. I don’t think she knows how easily her face expresses her emotions but honestly, I hope she never stops giving me these little glimpses into what she’s thinking and feeling.
Because I may not know where this thing between us is going but I know I haven’t had nearly enough of her yet.
Not even close.
18
Several hours later we've eaten dinner, played five hands of poker and my sides hurt from laughing so hard. My mom has told Milo every embarrassing story from my childhood possible. My father is treating him like the son he never had. And I'm about to lose it.
Cock-blocked by my own parents.
“Thank you for the advice, Harvey. I’ve been meaning to stock my liquor cabinet and I think some Bahamian rum would be a great addition.” Milo rubs his hands together. “I usually do mixed drinks for my New Year’s Eve parties and it’ll be great to bring out some new recipes. You guys should come. It’s a costume party. I bet you’d love it.”
My dad points at him and then turns to me. “I like this one, buttercup.”
Milo’s eyes light up. “Why do you call her buttercup? Is there a story behind that?”
I roll my eyes. “The same story as every other girl at my school. We all loved that movie The Princess Bride. I could recite all the lines.”
“And she did,” my mom interjects. “I was so tired of Buttercup and her nonsense. Who would leave a man like that?”
Ariana leans over, keeping her voice low so that no one will overhear. “You're trying to figure out how to get rid of them, aren't you?”
“Help me out, would ya? You're the one with all the ideas.”
Ari shrugs. “I don't think you want my help. Because I’ll tell them you’re sexually frustrated after working overtime all week and need some bam-bam time with your boo.”
“Oh my god.” My heated whisper draws Milo’s attention. He raises his eyebrows and I point to my watch.
“Trust me,” Ari whispers. “Considering how much your mom wants grandkids, she’d probably be completely on board with that plan.”
As gross as it is, she's not wrong. My mom has always been an independent woman with her own career. Both of my parents were college professors and they met at a conference. Over the years she emphasized the importance of not losing myself for a man. But something strange happened a few years ago. She lost about fifty years off her feminism when her friends started having grandkids.
I have no doubt that my mom would make herself extremely scarce if she thought it meant there’d be a baby bouncing on her knee nine months from now.
But it turns out my dad is the one who saves the day.
“Well, Martine I think we should leave these young people to it.” He stands slowly and I hop up to help him but then pause because Milo is already there.
My heart was already one big melted marshmallow after watching him be so attentive and sweet to my parents but whatever resistance I had left is gone seeing Milo offer his arm to my father. He does it so easily, like it’s second nature and not an imposition at all.
And in that moment, I’m forced to accept it. I’ve broken all the rules. Weirdness and professionalism be damned. I’m in love with Milo. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, the heartache I experienced after Will left is going to seem like child’s play.
My mom pulls me into an embrace and the hug seems a little tighter than usual. When I finally pull back her eyes are bright.
“What is it, Mom? Is everything okay with you and Daddy?”
She regards me affectionately. “Just happy to see you smiling again, baby girl. We were worried about you for a long time.” Her eyes slide over to Milo. “But you’ve found a man who doesn’t need to dim your shine to make his own seem brighter. I can see I don’t need to worry anymore. Not with the way that man looks at you. Umm, hmm.”
My face flames but she just chuckles and kisses my cheek lightly. “I swear you kids forget that we were young and frisky once, too.”
“I don’t think I need to know too much about when you were frisky, Mom.”
She just laughs as she hugs Ariana goodbye. After they’ve both hugged Milo, I walk them to the door and wait until they’re in the elevator. When I get back inside the apartment, Ari is gone and Milo is in the kitchen putting away the leftover food.
“You don’t have to do that.” I feel bad enough that he’s been stuck here for two hours entertaining my parents when I know he was looking forward to relaxing after a long week.
“No big deal. I’m almost done.” Milo sticks a plastic container into the refrigerator and then drops the dishtowel in his hand on the counter.
“You were great with them. My dad is usually surrounded by estrogen so I think he really enjoyed having you here. Although I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you. They sometimes just get the idea to pop by and start cooking. They’re convinced that Ari and I will starve to death if they don’t come check on us periodically.”
Milo wraps an arm around my waist. “You don’t need to apologize for having parents who care. I thought they were great. It’s obvious how much they love you. It’s not like I don’t understand how they feel.”
We’re dancing around saying the words. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue and my pulse speeds up as I prepare to lay it all on the line.
But what comes out is, “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Coward, my inner voice taunts. It’s not quite what I wanted to say but maybe it’s a way to ease into it. Even with as much time as we’ve spent together over the past two weeks, we still haven’t spent a whole night together. It’s like this unspoken line that we haven’t crossed. But if Milo stays all night, then I can build up to telling him what these past few weeks have meant to me. So much has happened so fast, but I want him to know how I’m feeling.
Then it all comes crashing down.
“You know, I never thought I’d say this but I honestly don’t feel like fucking.” Milo hangs his head in mock shame. “This is rock bottom.”
I laugh weakly. “We can just relax and watch some TV then. We’ve both been hunching over our computers a lot but I give really good back massages.”
Warnings are blaring in the back of my mind. Danger. Desperation alert. It’s like I can hear myself and I’m trying to stop the words falling out of my mouth but I can’t. I just keep digging the hole deeper.
“I even bought almond milk and those little cream cookies you like. The weather is supposed to be nice this weekend so it should be perfect for us to get out and get some fresh air.”
With every word out of my mouth, Milo retreats further and further. Physically he’s still there but I can feel him pulling inward. Until finally, he kisses my forehead.
“Are you trying to take care of me, Mya?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice.
Almost like he’s laughing at me.
That hurts more than the rejection.
“I have a lot of errands to run, actually. So I’d better go. I’ll see you on Monday.”
I watch helplessly as he puts on his coat and the door shuts behind him.
Ariana must have radar because she gives me plenty of space after he leaves. I go through the motions of tidying the living room before retreating to my room and changing into my oldest, comfiest pajamas.
Why did I ask him to stay?
As I’m brushing my teeth, I mentally review all the reasons getting in deep with Milo is a bad idea. I’ve always been a list maker so it’s only natural. Maybe a list of all the reasons this is a terrible idea will convince my head, heart and that brazen hussy between my thighs to stick with the program.
Pro: Makes me feel alive.
Con: Emotionally unavailable.
My heart sinks a little at that one. Milo has never brought a girlfriend to any company event or even referred to any of the women in his life in a permanent way. Why would I think I’d be the exception?
Pro: Takes great care of me when I’m drunk and ridiculous.
Con: Um…
Ok, there’s really no downside to that one. The memory of Milo cooking me breakfast in his underwear will forever be #boyfriendgoals. He’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had except for the teensy, eensy, little part about him not actually being mine.
Pro: Smart and supports my career!
Con: He’s your biggest competition.
A smile crosses my lips. Being my competition isn’t as much of a negative as I originally thought it would be. Competing with Milo is strangely a turn on. Mainly because I love watching his brain at work. He seems to enjoy that with me as well, which has been a lovely surprise.
Pro: He’s a god in bed.
Con: Goes through women like tissues.
I spit out the toothpaste. That right there is reason enough for me to back off. He likes being footloose and screwing different women in bar bathrooms on the weekends. He likes his life the way it is. Why would he want to change it?
Pro: I love him.
Con: Doesn’t love me back.
List making isn’t really as effective as it used to be. It’s honestly just making me feel stupid that I thought he was feeling the same thing. Did I really think that a few weeks with me would turn him into boyfriend material?
A light knock at the door startles me. I wipe my face on the towel. It’s probably one of our neighbors asking for a favor or something. But when I look through the peephole, it’s Milo’s face I see staring back.
There’s a part of me that want to be childish and leave him out there, but I open the door with a smile on my face so wide it makes my cheeks hurt. I’m not letting him know how much he hurt me.
“Hey, I thought you went home?” There, that sounds appropriately unbothered, right?
Milo yanks me into his arms and his mouth covers mine. The anger I’m carrying translates directly into the kiss and I bite and lick at him, furious and turned on at the same time.
A door slams and we reluctantly pull apart. My neighbor a few doors down pushes her walker slowly down the hallway.
Squeak.
Squeak.
Squeak.
“Evening, Mya.”
“Evening, Mrs. Abernathy.”
Milo opens his mouth to speak but stops as the sound of the wheels get closer and closer.
Squeak.
Squeak.
Squeak.
Despite my determination to be mad, it’s hilarious watching him trying to rein in whatever he was about to say. I know it’s hard but I only hope he can hold it. Our conversations tend to not be elderly neighbor appropriate.
Once the elevator doors close behind Mrs. Abernathy, Milo pulls me back into his arms. “I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for not wanting to stay over.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m apologizing for being a chicken shit. I’ve had a bad experience before but that’s no excuse for walking out like that. You’re nothing like Tess. I’ve been driving around in a circle for the past half hour because despite what I said, I don’t want to go home without you.”
Emotion wells but I stamp it back down just as quickly. “Maybe you’re right. Sleeping over has never been our thing. We’re just having fun and keeping it casual. That’s what we agreed to, right?”
“Fuck what we agreed to.” His forehead falls to mine. “I’m going to fuck up sometimes but you’ve gotta give me a chance to get it right. Come home with me. Please.”
My fingers curl into his shirt. “I’m already in my pajamas.”
His chest rocks with his laughter. “My car won’t judge your attire, I promise.”
“I’m not sure.” Of course, I really want to jump in his arms and never leave but I also don’t want to spend the night if he’s only doing it for me. If we’re going to take this step, it needs to be what we both want. Never again do I want to be in a relationship where I’m the only one invested.
He sighs heavily. “I guess we could stay here. Although considering the pervy things I want to do to you, I’m not sure you want your roommate listening in.”
Suddenly Ari’s voice yells from behind me. “Headphones on. Can’t hear a thing!”
We both dissolve into laughter.
“Also I really want you to come. I want to go to sleep with you. And wake up with you. You’re not the only one who wants to take things to the next level here. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”
“You caught that, huh?” It’s alarming how easily he sees through my cool facade. He reads me like a book sometimes and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. A girl needs a few secrets.
“I wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I didn’t catch that.”
My eyes fly to his, searching the blue depths for meaning. He called himself my boyfriend earlier to my mom but I figured that was due to lack of a better term. Coworker I’m having casual sex with and also pretending to be engaged to, just doesn’t flow easily off the tongue.
“Well, you entertained my parents and cleaned up the kitchen without being asked. Then you apologized. I’d say as far as boyfriends go, you’re doing okay so far.”
His hands slide lower under my ass as he hoists me into his arms. “Good. I aim to please. Now let’s get your stuff. Because as cute as those pajamas are, you can’t wear those all weekend.”
All weekend?
Definitely #boyfriendgoals.
19
I wake up the next morning freezing below the waist. The covers are scrunched up in the middle of the bed and my naked ass is in the wind.
But Mya is in my bed.
She’s on her stomach, one leg kicked up as she clutches the stolen sheets to her chest. Her hair has come loose from her braid and sticks to her forehead. She’s smiling in her sleep.
Waking up with Mya is quickly becoming my new favorite thing.
The clock on my nightstand tells me it’s noon but I’m having trouble believing it. With my insomnia, it’s extremely rare for me to sleep past eight in the morning and that’s if I’m exhausted. But then I remember all the ways Mya exhausted me last night. I lay back against the pillows with a sated sigh, enjoying the chance to be a little lazy.
I have a to-do list a mile long and couldn’t care less what is going undone. I finally have the woman of my dreams right where I want her.
In my bed.
“Why are you over there talking to yourself when it’s so early?” Mya mumbles, pulling the sheet over her head.
“Was I? Sorry, I didn’t realize. But I have to inform you that it’s actually almost lunchtime.”
She grumbles and it’s so adorable that I don’t even care she just snatched the last bit of linen covering me. Butterball ass naked is fine with me.
“If I haven’t had coffee yet, then it’s early.”
“Duly noted.” I climb out of bed a
nd walk into my closet to find a pair of sweatpants.
Mya is snoring when I come out. She’s still snoring when I return ten minutes later with a cup of coffee and a tray with toast and scrambled eggs.
Her head pops up when I sit on the edge of the bed. “Is that coffee? Oh my god, you’re the best.”
Another thing to add to the Mya files, coffee is a must. Once she’s had a few sips, the line in the middle of her forehead relaxes and she looks less like she might stab me.
“Welcome back to the land of the living. You went a little Walking Dead on me for a minute there.”
She laughs and shoves my shoulder. “Shut up. Not all of us can look like we just fell off a billboard first thing in the morning.”
“You look gorgeous all the time. And you’ll look even better when you’re naked in the shower with me.”
Mya is grinning like a loon as I take her coffee mug and set it on the night table. I grab her hands and tug her from the bed.
“Come on, troublemaker. I’ve been fantasizing about getting you in this shower ever since I got it redone.”
“Have you?” Mya hops into my arms and wraps her legs around me. I carry her into the bathroom and set her down gently.
“I am willing to admit that I’ve pictured you in my shower a time or two. Or fifty.” I move behind her and sweep her hair over her shoulder, baring the fragrant skin to my touch. I kiss the hollow of her throat then her collarbone, my lips leaving a moist trail.
“Tell me what you imagined,” she breathes. She sends me a cheeky look over her shoulder before pressing her round bottom against me. She smiles when my fingers tighten around her arm.
“You, naked and wet. All these amazing curves covered in suds.” I skim my hands up her belly and cup her breasts, the tight peaks of her nipples pressing into the center of my palms. She melts against me as she surrenders to the sensations my fluttering fingers create.
She turns in my arms and pulls me down for her kiss. I kiss her mouth as if making love to it, intense in my exploration, my tongue thrusting against hers intimately. I ground against her, nestling my cock directly over her clit. The feeling of bare skin reminds me that I need to grab protection. If I let things progress too far I won’t have the willpower to stop myself from taking her skin-to-skin. I give her a quick kiss and jog back into the bedroom to get the box of condoms. By the time I return, I already have a condom in place. I set the box carefully on the edge of the counter closest to the shower.