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“A little. Is this okay?”
“Yes, dude.” I grip his bicep, loosened a bit from the alcohol. “Stop worrying about my health and fucking dance.”
His answering laugh is easy and free, then buried under the music. I love the way he laughs, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Head thrown back, sharp teeth on display, tiny lines creasing the corners of his eyes. He’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him.
I lose myself in the feeling of his body against mine and try to convince myself that getting this drunk was a good idea.
*
Walking back to our room is difficult when the world is spinning around me.
We’re on the small stone pathway between the bar and the main motel building, but it’s empty. Most of the motel guests have wandered off for the night, leaving us alone.
The tee shirt I changed into after our dip in the pool is already damp with sweat and sticking to my back. Milo’s the only thing holding me up, that and my bull-headed determination to make it there in one piece.
He tightens his grip around my waist and tugs me closer. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“How come you can walk? My legs aren’t working.”
His chest rumbles. He’s laughing at me.
“That’s what you get for going over your limit, you lightweight.”
“Hey, fuck you.”
I shove him hard, which is admittedly not my greatest idea because he’s the only thing keeping me up. My foot slips and I stumble forward, sending us crashing to the ground. I collapse against him, my face buried into his chest, his arms still wrapped around me. He feels good underneath me.
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch.” Milo pats the small of my back. “You okay?”
When my head stops buzzing, I poke his side. “Take that, you monster.”
One of my curls rests against my eye, obstructing my view. Milo slips a hand from my waist and wraps the offending curl around his finger, a faint smile on his lips. Something hot ignites deep in my belly.
“It’s not my fault the great Callum Lawlor can’t hold his alcohol.”
“I can hold it just fine, thanks. They must have put something else in those drinks.”
Milo chuckles, flashing brilliant white teeth, and all I can think about is how close we are. His face takes up the entirety of my vision. The scent of cherries and booze is a heady mix, clogging my already-addled mind. I lick my lips.
“You never told me the name of this secret lover of yours.”
“Callum.” His gaze flicks to my mouth, then back up to my eyes. “We need to get to bed.”
“I know. Just—”
My lips brush against his, faint and fleeting. Less of a kiss and more of an invitation. Even this little touch sets me on fire. I want to swallow him whole.
Milo groans and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before flinging them open again.
“We shouldn’t.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
He pauses. Then he leans closer, pressing our mouths together firmly. I sigh, relaxing into the kiss. At first, it’s slow and gentle, Milo’s lips teasing mine. A stray hand finds my nipple through my shirt and rubs, ripping a gasp from me. Eagerly, Milo licks into my open mouth, swallowing the sound.
Desperate. Searching. Hungry. I can’t get enough of it. I want to stay like this until I waste away.
