Page 201

He steals a glance at my lips.

“We have to be.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No.” His thumb brushes slowly across my cheek. “I know why you thought we had to be back then. I know what she made you believe would happen if you let me stay in your life.” He steps closer. “But she’s not here now. I am. I’ve always been here. Even when you pushed me away.”

My heart pounds harder. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything.”

“Milo—”

“No. I don’t accept that.”

My pulse speeds up at the intensity in his gaze.

“And neither should you.”

Then his mouth crashes on mine. There’s nothing gentle about the kiss. Nothing hesitant or careful. His fingers tighten in my hair as he pulls me closer, and I grab fistfuls of his curls, kissing him back with every ounce of frustration I’ve been carrying around for longer than I should have. I pour all the anger, the resentment, the hurt of losing him when he was the one person I never wanted to let go of. It’s all there in this one kiss. A kiss that feels more like an argument neither of us is willing to surrender.

I relish the way his mouth moves against mine, the way his hand settles at the small of my back, drawing me closer until there’s barely an inch left between us. I slide my arms around his neck, rising onto my toes as he deepens the kiss, and whatever restraint I had left disappears. Kissing Milo somehow feels like coming home and losing my mind at the same time.

He breaks away just long enough to draw a breath, his forehead resting against mine, but neither of us makes any attempt to put distance between us.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispers.

My eyes burn.

I could say a thousand things. A thousand apologies I owe him. A thousand explanations for why I did what I did.

But right now, there’s only one thing I want him to know.

“I missed you, too.”

This time, I’m the one pulling his mouth back to mine.

Milo doesn’t hesitate. His hands settle on my hips, and before I know it, he’s lifting me onto the kitchen counter, stepping between my knees as I wrap my legs around his waist. I pull him closer, my fingers sliding over his bare shoulders and down his chest, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. His skin is still damp, and I can’t help smiling against his mouth when my fingertips glide over his wet body, and he lets out a sharp hiss.

God, I’ve missed that sound. I’ve missed knowing I can do that to him. A simple touch from me can make him lose his composure just as easily as he makes me lose mine.

I drag my fingertips slowly up his stomach, and the low groan that rumbles out of his chest sends a delicious shiver through me. I want to hear it again. Want to hear every little sound I’ve spent so long pretending I could live without.

Milo seems to have other ideas, though, because his arms tighten around me as he kisses me harder, one hand slipping into my hair while the other presses against my lower back, holding me so close I can feel his heart pounding against my chest.

For a few glorious moments, I forget about everything else. Peyton. The Reds. All the reasons I convinced myself that loving Milo was the most dangerous thing I could ever do.

But eventually, reality finds its way back in.

I reluctantly pull away, my hands coming to rest against his chest as I look into his eyes. He’s breathing just as hard as I am, his lips swollen from our kisses.

The sight makes me want to forget whatever I was about to say.

Except I can’t.

“No one can ever know,” I whisper.