Page 98 of Loverboy

“Really?” Milo straightened up in his chair, propping his elbows up on the table.

“He was so embarrassed,” Mom teased.

She was onto us.

And worse yet, the distant memory felt damning, like my insides had been splayed out on the table for Milo to see. My pathetic, secretive pining—something I’d tried to pretend hadn’t begun before his relationship with my childhood friend had even ended. Everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly concern was suddenly exposed for what it was.

Greed.

I’d wanted him all to myself for as long as I could remember.

“That’s hilarious.” Milo smoothed a hand over his mouth, hiding what I could only assume was a smug grin.

He’d always gotten a kick out of people misconstruing our relationship. Only now, it was different. Validating. I wondered if he’d always seen it that way—if somehow, his feelings had always mirrored my own. Had we just forced ourselves into the same mould, both too afraid to lose the only relationship that’d ever mattered by fucking it all up with our feelings? It was time wasted.

I couldn’t waste any more.

“It’s even funnier because we are now.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could second-guess them. “Dating, I mean. We’re together now.”

Blane struggled to swallow a mouthful of food, his fork clattering onto his plate. Milo’s smile fell away, and he stuffed his hands into his lap, looking down. Mom was silent for a beat, her expression unreadable.

“For the first time?” Mom’s brow creased.

“What?” I stared, dumbfounded. “Yes, for the first time.”

She sighed.

“Finally.”

I leaned back in my chair, shoulders sagging. My heart dropped from my ribs to the pit of my stomach, all the adrenaline bleeding out of me in an instant.

“Finally?” Milo repeated.

“He was so lonely before we took you in,” Mom said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t know how to fix it. I thought I was going to lose him.”

Milo stilled, hand still covering his mouth. I could see the way his brows drew together, his eyes glossing over.

I blinked away the traitorous sting of tears in my own eyes, my chest stuttering as I sucked in a breath and held it. The exposure was uncomfortable. I’d spent so long keeping it to myself, trying to be as strong as I’d known Milo to be. He dealt with so much, I never wanted to add the weight of my own problems to his.

“I’d just like to say that this is really gross,” Blane interjected, cutting through the heavy mood. “I’m glad you’re happy, but also, ew. My brothers?”

We all laughed, the vulnerable moment slipping away. I wiped under my eyes with my fingertips to hide the evidence of my emotion, adjusted my glasses, and then ran a hand through my hair. I was sweating.

“I just want my babies to be okay,” Mom reined it back in. “That’s all.”

“We are,” I assured her. “I promise.”

I reached around Milo’s back and pulled him in close by the shoulder, pressing a kiss into the loose curls on his head, my heart an open wound I couldn’t seem to close. He groaned, trying to pull away, but I held tight. I wouldn’t let him shy away from me in front of anyone ever again.

He was mine. He always had been.

And now they knew it, too.

43

Milo

I KNEW I had issues—a lot of them.