Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I blink, setting the tears free while nodding several times. His mouth brushes my wet, salty lips before he kisses me. It’s not my first kiss or my second kiss. I don’t know how many times I’ve been kissed, but I know this … with this one kiss, Milo resurrects the parts of my heart that died when Ruthie left this world. He may never say the words, but I feel loved. I feel like no matter how far apart we are, part of Milo will always be with me. I will feel him forever.
My hands press to his chest, and this time he doesn’t stop me. His tongue teases my lips, and I open my mouth. Milo makes everything feel like nothing and no one before him was real.
His other hand finds my neck, his touch so gentle and intimate. I keep my eyes closed when his lips leave mine, ghosting along my cheek. I’m so scared this is a dream. What will happen if I open my eyes?
“Indie girl …” he whispers in my ear before kissing my neck next to his thumb. “You’re my fresh air …” He drags his mouth to the other side of my neck.
My head tips back, mouth falling open, letting tiny breaths escape while his words lull my mind into a safe place. With him, I’m not scared. I’m not lost. I’m not abandoned.
“You’re the sun … so fucking bright, blindingly beautiful.” Milo kisses up my neck to my jaw, my cheek, and back to my mouth.
It’s a perfect kiss, our tongues making slow but deliberate strokes. He grins against my mouth when I hum. I can’t help it.
My fingertips sneak beneath the hem of his shirt and tease his abs.
Milo slowly pulls away and rests his forehead on mine. “It can’t go any further. I’m sorry.” His hands take mine, guiding them away from his stomach, interlacing our fingers behind my back.
I swallow the thick lump of reality. And my hatred for Jolene grows exponentially.
My Milo.
MY. MILO!
I squeeze his hands, and he squeezes mine back. They fit perfectly. We fit perfectly.
“Sweet dreams, Indie girl.” Milo dots several kisses along my cheek to the corner of my mouth, where he pauses and inhales slowly. His words feel like the wind’s breath, warm and soothing.
And then … he’s gone.
I open my eyes only for them to blur behind a new round of tears. Milo gave me a glimpse of a life I will never have. He’s going to marry Jolene, and it will feel like a death, like the day Ruthie died. If I go to their wedding, I will wear black. I will mourn the loss of my Milo.
8
FAVORITE PLACE IN THE WORLD
The next night, Milo checks in on me after dinner and once again a little before midnight. I hear my door creak, and a sliver of light peeks inside, but I don’t move or say a word.
He kissed me. And maybe he said it wouldn’t change anything, but it changed me. That one kiss made me feel wanted and special. And scared to death. I’m afraid that when I see him again, all I’ll see are deep lines of regret on his face.
He keeps his distance for the next two days, only proving my point—he regrets it.
But now my car won’t start, and I have errands to run.
“Milo? My car won’t—” I freeze, covering my mouth with my hand after barging into his place. His barn. “Sorry,” I mumble behind my hand.
He smiles, taking a step back from the woman sitting on his counter, holding a cup of coffee. She’s new.
“Your car won’t what?” He seems unfazed.
Lucky him.
I clear my throat, sending a nervous smile in the woman’s direction. “Start.”
It’s official. I hate my life—more like my lot in life.
“Rae, this is Indie. Indie, this is Rae. Let me grab a shirt, and I’ll look at your car.”
“I can run errands later or call a friend. Don’t uh … let me interrupt.” I back my way out of this situation and his apartment. There’s never a black hole to fall into when you need one.
Milo’s gaze cuts to the pretty redhead on his counter. She gives him a grin and a shrug while gently swinging her legs.
“Let’s go. I’ll look at it now.” He pulls on a tee and snags his truck keys from the end of the counter.
“Nice meeting you, Indie,” Rae says before taking a sip of her coffee.
“You too,” I croak, skittering toward the main house without waiting for Milo.
My measured strides keep me a foot or so ahead of him where I don’t have to look at him. The balance between losing my shit (it’s what I want to do) and ignoring him proves to be wobbly. It could go either way.
Pretend the kiss never happened. Pretend the best night of my life never happened.