: Chapter 13
Love, Milo
My back is pressed against the bathroom door as I listen in on Milo inside of it.
I canât believe him, and I canât believe itâs me thatâs the cause of it.
Me. Of all other people, he might have to think about. Heâs doing this to the thought of me.
My body burns, and my center pulses painfully, wanting a release, anything to satisfy what kissing Milo has done to me.
His grunt comes through and meets my ear, along with the sound of water hitting the shower floor. I softly lean my head against the door as I stand and pull at the drawstrings of my sweatpants. My hand slips in and under my panties, and my jaw drops open.
The flat of my finger slides between my slit, rubbing my wetness into myself, feeling what Miloâs easily done.
My back arches as a whimper of Milo leaves the bathroom, and I bite down on my bottom lip, rubbing my clit to the sound of him getting off.
This is insane, but Iâm happy. Happy heâs achieving in making me feel more than fear when it comes to being close to a man, let alone sexual activities.
Two fingers enter me with ease, and I swallow my cry as I curl them up, imagining Miloâs fingers or tongue handling the job for me.
My stomach twists, and butterflies swarm every corner of it, my eyes watering as I slide down the door to sit.
Please, Miloâ¦
He moans, cursing to himself, and my legs begin to shake as I quicken my fingers against my sweet spot.
I want to reach my end. I need to feel it just once again.
âRaelynn,â he cries out in between moans.
The moan of my name, which shouldâve ruined and caused me to melt like liquid on the floor from my climax, instead made my eyes shoot open.
Raelynn.
That same moan of my name, a memory I havenât had since now of that nightâthe night of the assult.
I close my eyes, and an image flashes over my lids. A body on top of mine, my name being moaned ever so slightly. No. The good feeling washes away immediately, and my heart races.
It always comes down to that day. My eyes swell with tears as I slip my hand out from inside my panties and cry against the door. Iâll never be able to feel the same. There will always be that day there to take control of me forever. What was I thinking? That three weeks with this man might fix me. That maybeâjust maybeâheâd make me forget about Jaden Caddel. When the truth is, nothing can.
I widen my face with my arm, but itâs no use; the tears continue their pathetic stream down my cheek.
What makes me think anyone else can if I canât get myself off? If I continue this with Milo, Iâll ruin it all.
So itâs better I terminate⦠whatever weâre becoming before it starts to form.
Suddenly, the sound of his shower stops, and I gasp soundlessly, getting up and running towards his door, opening it and closing it.
I press my back against it, sighing and taking deep breaths, completely wiping away the fact that I was crying.
A trick Iâve come to master.
***
âAre you tired? Itâs only the evening, and youâre snoozing.â I shoot my eyes open from the dreadful daydream, the sound of Miloâs voice right next to me in his car.
I clear my throat, blinking away the reappearing tears, and shake my head. âNo, just resting my eyes.â
If only he knew what thoughts live inside my head. I continue pushing him away, hoping heâll just end up calling this fake dating thing off, but he doesnât seem to want to. Deep down, neither do I.
Not after meeting his family⦠the nicer people of his family. And declaring us friends when we arenât putting on a front.
Keeping away from him sexually is for his own good. I donât want to hurt him because of things that are shattered and twisted within me.
Iâll just distance myself. Iâll keep him out of my head. Forever.
I watch the road as Milo finally takes me to our building. A pang of disappointment rises in me, but I push it down. He stops the car and goes to unbuckle my seatbelt, but I put a hand up, not wanting to feel him so close.
âI got it,â I say. He puts his hand up, watching me undo the lock.
After several attempts and smirks from a cocky Milo, I finally get it loose.
âSee? I got it.â
âI never said you didnât, Love.â He gets out of his car and shuts the door. Iâm left blowing a long, aggressive breath out from my mouth before stepping out of the car as well to meet him at the door.
âSo, you think those kids learned some good things today?â I sarcastically question Milo as he opens the door for me.
A glare is sent my way. âIf I hear even one parent complain about their child dropping the F-bomb, youâre dead. Seriously, Rae, Iâll come for you.â
You already did, in the showeâ No.
I shake my head and the thought away. Milo smirks at my side, but I choose to ignore him, and his mind seems to be on the same page as mine.
âGood evening, Mr. Evans,â Edna greets from behind her desk, looking up from her glasses. I wonder why on Earth sheâs a security guard; she doesnât look a day under sixty.
âEdna,â he shorty responds with a wave.
Her eyes dart to me. âRaelynn, hello.â She smiles, looking between the two of us. âI see you two have found each other nicely.â
I tilt my head, wondering what that actually means. However, Iâm too tired to question her. Milo and I had stayed after school hours; I helped him clean and organize things and even talked about friend things like Spider-Man. Next thing you know itâs nearly six at night when we headed home.
âHope your day went well,â Milo says, twisting the topic of conversation. âHow is the elevator holding up? And the radio installment?â He calls the elevator down with the press of a button. I stand at his side.
âGood as new, thanks to you.â He chuckles, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. âThat rhymed, didnât it?â
He smiles crookedly. âYes, it did.â
The elevator door opens and I step in first, Milo following, pressing my floor first. Twenty-three.
Just like he said seconds ago, a faint tune plays in the elevator, and I listen to it with my eyes closed, attempting to imagine I wasnât in a metal box.
âSo youâre family owns buildings?â I say, keeping my voice low and wanting him just to talk while the elevator climbs floors.
âYes. I have access to my fatherâs income, a large income, you might notice.â
I glare up at him. âDonât show off, itâs unattractive.â
âIâm not showing off. In fact, Iâd rather if I didnât have anything to do with my father if Iâm being truthful. Heâs a man that doesnât deserve his wealth. If I could give it all to someone who does, I would, or at least try.â
âWhat makes you hate him so much?â
âToo many things to list off.â His voice turns shallow and weak, and I realize just how hard it is for him to speak about his dad. âI teach because I wanted a job of my own; regardless of how terrible the pay is, I wanted something not connected to him.â
I nod, and the elevator door dings and opens. I let loose the tightness in my chest and step out first. âWhy do you stick around him then.â
Milo takes a moment to answer. âHeâd cut us off.â
I look up at him with pinched eyebrows. âWhat do you mean?â
âGenesis, me, my mother. He wants me to follow his footsteps, to be the obedient son heâs always wanted me to be. If I donât listen to him, heâll take away everything from us. That house Mother and Gen live in? Thatâs his. He pays Genâs private school tuition. The treatment for his sick wife, heâs threatened to cut it all off, Rae.â
My shoulders drop as I come to the end of the hallway where my door is located. I turn to look at Miloâs face full of anger.
âWow. I canât even believe that. Itâs⦠heartless,â I whisper, feeling my chest tighten for him. How long has this been going on for? What else has his father done to him? What terrible lengths has he taken to make Milo so dependent on him?
My lips press into a thin line. âThe most terrible people always seem to be the most fortunate.â A soft, humorless laugh leaves me in replace of the frown that I want to show.
Milo glances down the hall and then back at me. âWell, enough about him. Keeping him out of my head for as long as needed is what brings me the most relief. I should get going.â
I nod, understanding what he means. I would rather talk about anything than my parents.
Slipping off my keys from my pockets, I open my apartment door, revealing the erring quietness and dim lighting. The walls that hold memories of my nightmares and sleepless nights.
I clear my throat, turning around to look at Milo. My eyes trace his sharp jaw and perfect noseâthe upward curls of his hair and the faint pink shade of his lips.
I shift my weight against the door. âIâll⦠see you.â I nibble at my lip, turning my to glance at my apartment once again, then back at Milo.
He tilts his head and gives me one nod. âGoodnight, love.â
My heart falls as he turns around and walks down the hall; I watch the distance between us increase for a second longer before I go to close my door. I shouldnât have expected him to want to spend more time with me, not after what I said to him in the car, about what happened between us. It would be better if we didnât spend more time than needed together.
Before my door closes completely I pause at the sound of my name. âRaelynn.â I open the door too quickly, looking at him with raised brows.
âYeah?â
He scratches the back of his head, stumbling on his words. âDo you, uh⦠want toâ Iâm making dinner.â He blurts out. âDo you want some?â
I bite down on my bottom lip to prevent the massive grin that I want to show. Nodding, I step back out my door and shut it. âYeah, sounds good.â
Dinner wonât hurt anyone. And I would rather not be by myself right now.
Following Milo down one flight of stairs to the twenty-second floor to the apartment right under mine, I wait patiently behind him as he unlocks his door and opens it.
Immediately, a series of barks come through, and a brown and black adolescent German Shepard is revealed behind the door. It jumps and scratches at Milo, barking and hanging its tongue from its mouth. One ear hangs floppy while the other stands up straight, and it causes me to laugh. Milo drops his hand on the puppyâs head and pets it.
âAlright, girl, calm down.â Girl. Sheâs only a few months old, tinnier than a usual adult German Shepard.
I grin widely as I step inside his apartment, getting a greeting from his dog as well. Her tails wag, and I bend down to give her more pets than Milo gave. She clearly wants more attentionâpoor thing.
âHi, gorgeous! Arenât you adorable,â I speak highly. The dog drops low and spins around to show her belly. âBelly rubs?â Her tongue hands out the side of her mouth, wide brown eyes staring back at me.
I giggle and rub her stomach, causing one of her legs to kick uncontrollably.
Milo hangs his keys on a hook beside the door and locks it, slipping off his coat and hanging it.
âThatâs poppy,â he says. âI got her around six months ago when I moved out of my parentâs house. Sheâs quite the mess.â
I look around the house. The rather amazingly decorated house. Despite not being nearly as high-end as the one he used to live in, he sure knows how to make it look like it.
My eyes wander to the living room at the broken vase on the carpet. Milo walks towards it, sighing. âA pain in my ass also.â He grabs a dustpan and broom and begins cleaning the mess Poppyâs made.
âSheâs innocent; itâs not her fault,â I say and bend down to puppy-talk the dog. âIsnât that right? Youâre a saint, hmm?â She licks my nose, and I grin, standing up from my crouch.
Milo throws the last piece of the broken vase in the garbage and steps in front of me. Beside us, Poppy jumps on the couches, flips down, and nibbles on a bone.
âI need to take a shower first. Get rid of all the paint and shit on me. Make yourself at home.â He waves his hand at his apartment and then says.
I nod and smirk. âNo fantasies this time.â
He raises an eyebrow and smiles. âDonât listen in on me this time.â He fires back as he turns away.
My cheek burns slightly and the interaction, but I brush it off as he walks down his hallway, out of sight. He was kidding, a joke.
Seconds later I hear the running of water start up and a door close.
I twist my lips and find myself walking around his house.
What if I was a thief and wanted to rob his ass. Then what?
Heâd probably just walk upstairs and rob it back from meâ¦
Down the hall, past the bathroom he showers in, I walk towards the single bedroom at the end. Itâs cracked open, so I press two fingers against the wood, opening it wider.
A large king-sized bed sits against the wall in the middle, made and color-themed gray and white. Gray comforter, gray walls, gray carpet, white sheets, white picture frames, and white pillows to contrast.
A small bookshelf sits at his bedside table, a lamp on it that illuminates the room. A small window shines the setting sun rays through it, tinting the room. I walk along the perimeter, dragging my hand along the desk, when a door catches my eye. Itâs not normal for rooms in this apartment to have other doors like this one. I walk towards it, twisting the knob.
Peering inside, I scan the office-like room.
A faint red light shows along the top perimeter of the room, turning the entirety of it red. It must change to other colors too, Iâm pretty sure theyâre called LED lights.
But I like the red. It fits with the secret room energy this place gives off.
An L-shaped black desk sits in the corner, a monitor on it and a few books and stacks of papers, along with a long couch against the wall.
I walk inside, eyes wide as I stare at the several bookshelves along the walls, books filling every one of them.
I knew he was a teacher, but holy hell, I didnât think he read this much.
Is this considered intrusive? He did say to make myself home; Iâd rather see what this place includes before I do that.
Sitting in his chair, I cross my legs, feeling like a badass businesswoman of some sort. A laptop lay in front of me, and I chose to leave that alone. Iâd rather not pry in his personal belongings.
But hypocritically, I open a few drawers, finding watches that are too big for me, rings that are too big for me, and other random things.
Getting to the bottom drawers, I open it to find handcuffs.
My brows pinch together, and I tilt my head when I see the rope and several other items along with it. A small knife is included. My eyes widen.
What the fuck?
I gasp, just as the door to the room opened wider. A gush of fear rushes through my body, goosebumps rising on my arms. My breath lodges in my throat and clears it, closing the dresser.
Milo stands in the entrance, fresh clothes on, his wet face paling, and his panicked eyes on me.
I stand up, side-stepping the dresser, and point to the last drawer with a shaking finger. âMiloâ¦â
He puts up his hand. âPlease, donât freak out.â