Fuck, Miles was perfectly aware how gone on him he was. When Ian was in the room, everything else seemed to just go away. Sometimes Miles felt like he was drowning in Ian—or that he would drown without him. It should have scared him. It didn’t. There were no alarm bells ringing in his head, as if it was totally natural to feel like you couldn’t breathe without another person. God, these needy feelings were so messed up, but it was also an amazing feeling, like a natural high.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Miles murmured, nuzzling against Ian’s throat. “Everyone would gossip about us. Let’s be honest: we’re terrible at being subtle.”
That was putting it mildly. He still couldn’t look Ian’s driver in the eye. In the past few weeks since he’d moved back into the house, the entire staff, starting from the gardener and ending with the cook, seemed to have found out about them, and it wasn’t even the driver that told them. It was obviously their own fault. If they refrained from touching each other outside the bedroom, no one would have come across them.
“I know it isn’t a good idea,” Ian said tersely. “But…” He trailed off, but Miles could feel his frustration as if it were his own.
But I want to take you with me anyway. Was that what Ian wasn’t saying? Or was Miles deluding himself? Was he projecting his own increasingly needy feelings and thoughts onto Ian, misreading him completely? Most likely. It didn’t help that lately Miles had been acutely aware of the fact that the summer was coming to an end and he was supposed to leave soon. He had a new passport now, and his family had been asking when he was coming back. His siblings didn’t understand why he was still in Boston instead of traveling America, as he had intended to do.
Miles burrowed his face into the crook of Ian’s neck, his stomach in anxious knots. Even thinking about leaving brought a tight, panicky feeling to his chest.
But he would have to, and soon. His life was in London. The term was going to start next month. He had his family and his friends to go back to. It had been the longest time he’d been away from them. He missed his family so much. He did want to go home.
But…
But.
Ian’s ringtone interrupted his conflicted thoughts. Reluctantly, Miles allowed Ian to get out of the bed to answer his phone.
He couldn’t hear a word Ian said to the caller. Instead, he stared at Ian, at the touch of gray at his temples, his handsome profile, his firm mouth, and his strong, powerful body. He stared at him and already missed him, even though he was right there.
For how long? a voice whispered at the back of his mind. This was borrowed time, something that would end soon.
A part of him, a small, stupid part, hoped that Ian would ask him to stay. Miles wasn’t sure what he would say if Ian actually did that, but since he knew it wasn’t happening, he allowed himself to indulge in that fantasy for a moment. In that fantasy, he and Ian got married and raised Liam together. In that fantasy, his entire family magically lived in America too.
In that fantasy, Ian was in love with him.
Miles almost cringed at the thought. He’d been trying hard not to think of that word, but with every passing day, it was hard not to. What did one call a feeling that was a mix of need, overwhelming affection, gut-wrenching desire, and a sense of rightness, security, and belonging? It could only be one thing; Miles was aware of that.
He still tried not to think of that word. Ian had never indicated that this meant more for him than a friends-with-benefits thing. Ian never used the “l” word. Hell, he’d never even used endearments with him. Ian had never spoken about the possibility of Miles staying, as if it had never even occurred to him. It had never come up once.
He really must be an idiot, reading too much into Ian’s intense, heated gazes. He was likely just seeing things he wanted to see. The thought made his stomach tight. Love was a terrifying but wonderful feeling. Unrequited love was just plain terrifying.
“What’s wrong?” Ian said.
Flinching, Miles returned his eyes to him.
Ian was frowning. It seemed he’d finished his call and Miles hadn’t even noticed, lost in his thoughts.
Miles shrugged, not knowing what to say. What could he say? I’m kind of really, madly, deeply in love with you, and I want you to feel the same way about me.
He sat up and dragged the sheets up, feeling cold all of a sudden. He looked down at his toes peeking out of the sheets.