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)
If this is love, why is it wrong?
If this is love, why can’t we be together?
If this is love, why does it hurt my heart so much?
If this is love … I don’t want to live without it. Without him.
“Milo …” I cry his name so loudly someone might hear me.
I want them to hear me. I want the whole world to hear how Milo makes me feel.
He sits back on his heels and hugs my back to his chest. Kissing my shoulder, one hand slides to my breast while his other hand snakes between my legs, where he was just seconds ago. “Mine …” he rasps like he’s angry.
Closing my eyes, my head lulls back onto his shoulder. “Yours,” I whisper while several tears work their way down my face.
Time doesn’t care that Milo’s leaving tomorrow. It ticks on relentlessly all night. Milo does his best to spend most of the night in his favorite place, but he may have had too many beers.
All too soon, it’s over. The way we will be over forever. Too. Soon.
“Indie girl.” He kisses my back while I sleep on my stomach. “I have to go.”
“No …” I protest with my face buried in the pillow. It’s not even light out yet.
He chuckles. “Sorry. Sleep as long as you want. Just be smart about sneaking back into the house.”
I roll over. He’s dressed. My arms wrap around his neck.
“Stay.”
Again, he laughs. “I can’t.”
Standing on my knees, I press my naked body to him, my hand grabbing his crotch.
His abs tighten while he tries to pull away a fraction. “Indiana …”
“I’ll let you lick butter off me.” I bring his hand between my legs, my fingers guiding his inside of me.
“Is that so?” He stares right into my eyes, slowly moving his fingers.
I bite my lower lip, blinking heavily while nodding.
“I have never…” his voice gets husky while his lips turn into a grin “…seen anything or anyone as sexy as you are right now.”
“Don’t…” I rest my chin on his shoulder “…stop. P-please.” My teeth dig into his shirt and the thick muscles beneath it while my hips rock into his touch.
Milo chuckles. It’s deep, vibrating his whole chest. “I have to go, Indie girl.”
“Milo …” I grab the back of his neck to steady myself. “J-just …”
His other hand grabs a fistful of my hair, gently tipping my head back so his mouth can cover mine. His tongue dives deep into it while his fingers move inside me.
Groaning into his mouth, I claw at the back of his neck when I orgasm.
Out of breath and heart pounding. Grateful. And … sad. I collapse onto the bed.
Milo rubs his middle finger and ring finger along his lower lip a few times before sucking them into his mouth and humming.
If you ever stick those fingers inside her, I will cut them off.
It’s an awful thing I wish didn’t float into my jealous consciousness. Everything behind my ribcage constricts to the point that it’s hard to breathe. I can’t look at him. I’m ashamed of even thinking those thoughts after such an intimate moment.
And I’m hurt because I know he can’t promise me anything, and that’s a chronically unbearable pain I will have to live with for the rest of my life.
“What is it, baby?” He plucks one of his shirts from his basket of clean clothes and pulls it over my head.
I love it when he dresses me.
I find a smile just for him. It’s a bandage with fun characters so no one sees the unsightly wound beneath it. No one sees the pain.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “I hate these cards. Every day I wake up hoping I’ve been dealt a new hand where you’re marrying me, not her. And when we’re together like this, I can’t stop counting down the days. I fucking hate it.” And I hate the images of him with her that are not even real—yet—but still an unstoppable poison spreading through my head.
Milo rests a finger under my chin and tips my head to look at him.
He’s extra cinnamon today.
“I will never stop looking for a way out.” Wrinkles crease his forehead. “But that could take a lifetime … and you deserve a life that doesn’t involve false hope, slim chances, and unimaginable images in your head.”
Tears burn my eyes, and with one blink, they release. Milo bends down to kiss away every single one of them.
“Have a good spring break. I’ll text you when I get to Oklahoma City.”
“When will I see you again?” I sniffle.
With a sad smile, he shakes his head. “Dunno.”
“Graduation?”
He continues to shake his head.
No. He won’t be at my graduation because Jolene graduates on the same day. Aunt Faye and Grandma Hill will be there. That’s it. No Fletcher. No Milo.
“Bye, Milo.”
His knuckles skate across my cheek. “Bye, Indie girl.”