Page 149 of Seasons of Love
I don’t know how since even I didn’t know I would make the first move.
“Freak-outs are my specialty,” he says. “And it seems to me you’re freaking the hell out.”
“That obvious?”
He points to the brioche on my plate that I’ve turned into crumbs. I clean my hands.
“Sorry.”
He drinks the last of his coffee. “Have you finished?”
“Yeah.”
Usually, he goes back to work after brunch while I play with Sara, but if he’s taken his shower, he must be done for the day. I don’t want to feel disappointed that he might go soon, but I am.
He stands, grabs our plates, and takes them to the sink. Then he comes back for our empty coffee cups. A quick wipe of the table to ensure there are no crumbs, and then he washes the dishes.
I just stare as he looks so completely at home in my kitchen.
When he’s finished, he wipes his hands on a dry cloth and comes over to me.
I take his hand when he holds it out for me and follow him to the couch. He pulls me down with him. We’re sitting so close together that I’m practically on his lap.
His fingers trace the palms of my hands like we’ve got all the time in the world. I do the same to him, and I’m surprised that his hands are soft despite the hard manual labor he’s been doing the last few weeks.
“I feel like I should say something. Do something,” I say.
“As long as it’s not an apology, what do you want to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want to do?”
I look at where our fingers are laced together.
“I want to get out of my head. I want to stop wondering if kissing you was wrong. It felt so good, and I don’t know if I could survive not doing it again. And if I…we never kiss again, will I still remember how good it was ten years from now?”
Milo takes one hand back and brings it to my face.
“You can catalog all of our kisses, but if it depends on me, you will never have to wonder if it’ll happen again.”
He comes forward, and I welcome the touch of his lips on mine.
“I love how you don’t know what to do with yourself when I touch you, Ellis.”
I want to laugh because he’s right, but he keeps sucking my lips into his mouth, and I feel when his tongue runs over them, soft and warm. All I can do is let it happen. Let myself be consumed by Milo.
“Why,” I rasp. “Why do you like it?”
He stops kissing me and nuzzles me until I’m lying on the couch with him between my legs.
“Because it gives us an even playing field.” He kisses my jaw. “Can I?” He pulls on the hem of my T-shirt, and I help him take it off.
“When I’m around you, I can’t think. You’re always so composed, so in control,” he says. “I like knowing that I can do this to you.”
He sucks my nipple into a peak. I cant my hips to meet his, and we both hiss.
“I’m never in control, Milo. Especially when it comes to you.”
