Clearly, like most men, Milo has no idea what relaxation means for a woman. But I’m just embarrassed and exhausted enough not to care anymore. So I take the shirt and escape into the safe haven of the bathroom. Once the door is closed and locked behind me, I meet my own eyes in the mirror. That was the most ridiculous conversation, but in a strange way cathartic, too. Maybe I just needed to tell someone and Milo happened to be the unlucky bystander when it all came bursting forth.
Not that he should have acted like it was such a bother to him. I’m the one who’s been sexually frustrated for years, after all. If anyone has cause to be annoyed by this situation, it’s me.
The bathrooms in this hotel come stocked with all manner of toiletries, so I use the mini facial bar to wash my makeup off. There’s a small hook on the back of the door, so I use that to hang my dress by the straps and put on the shirt Milo gave me. It’s a good thing he’s so tall or there would be no way this thing would fit over my chest, but it’s just big enough. Although I have to unbutton quite a bit at the top so I don’t feel like my boobs are being strangled.
After pulling the pins out of my bun, I finger comb my hair down around my face. It’s super thick, so it’s easier to keep it braided or in a bun, but when I’m relaxing, I just let it go wild. Milo will just have to deal. He’s the one who wouldn’t let me leave, so if he doesn’t like it, he can bite me.
The man looked like he wanted to bite you anyway.
With that thought, I yank open the bathroom door and march back out into the room. Milo looks up from the mini bar where he’s selected a small bottle. His mouth falls open slightly before he clears his throat and looks away, guiltily.
“Want a drink?”
“Uh, sure.”
“We have scotch, some dubious-looking wine and vodka.”
I shrug. “Alcohol. Anything that can make me forget the past three hours.”
He’s about to respond when my phone rings. To my surprise, Milo picks it up as if he has every right to know who’s calling me. He tilts the screen so I can see the face. A picture of me and William taken during our last New Year’s Eve flashes on the screen. I take the phone and hit the button to silence the call.
“I never got around to changing the picture on his profile,” I blurt. Then I’m instantly mad at myself for explaining. I don’t have to justify why I have a picture of my ex on my phone.
“He’s called twice already. Some men really don’t know the meaning of no, do they?”
I climb back on the bed, satisfied when Milo’s eyes follow the movement of my legs. He hasn’t invited me to take over his bed, but oh well. This is what you get when you stand in between a girl and her chill time. I settle back against the pillows and snuggle into the cozy sheets.
“William wasn’t too good at listening in general,” I admit.
“Enough about him. What did you think of the rest of the Lavin team? Obviously Christiane hates us. But otherwise?”
To my surprise, for the next hour, we talk about everything related to Lavin Fashions. It’s not a surprise to me that Milo has researched their prior campaigns but he also looked up human interest stories about the brand and found out what their charitable initiatives are. That’s one that I hadn’t thought of yet. Then I tell him about the collaborations Mr. Lavin did before he started the brand. That was something Milo hadn’t thought of.
And in the midst of it all, I can’t help thinking that we make a pretty damn good team.
“Can I ask you something?” Milo asks when there’s a lull in the conversation. We’ve been sitting quietly for a few minutes, but it’s a good kind of silence. The comfortable kind where you don’t feel any pressure to perform, you can just be.
“Sure. I mean you’ve already asked the embarrassing stuff, like how I like my orgasms. How much further down the rabbit hole can we go?”
His smile awakens something in me that I didn’t know was dormant, and I press my thighs together to stop the ache. But as usual, Milo is tuned in to everything I’m feeling. His eyes drop to the juncture between my thighs and his blue eyes darken. When he spea
ks, his voice is one shade above a growl.
“Why did you stay with a guy who didn’t satisfy you? One who made you feel that you had to wear long skirts and hide yourself? I’m trying to understand, but I just don’t get it. You’re so strong. I can’t imagine you taking shit from anybody.”
This is the kind of conversation we probably shouldn’t be having when I’m dressed in only his shirt and snuggled next to him on a bed. Maybe it’s the mini-bar wine stealing away the last fucks I had to give, but I just don’t care anymore.
“Even strong women get lonely,” I say finally. “Will isn’t a bad guy, just an oblivious one. And he wanted something I couldn’t give him. Do you know what he said to me at the end?”
He turns over so he’s now facing me directly. “What?”
“He said that settling down with me felt too much like settling. Like I was the consolation prize he’d accepted when he couldn’t find anything better.”
If you’d asked me before that moment, I’d have told you I was over it and that Will’s words didn’t have any power over me. But saying it to Milo in that moment was different, like I could actually admit how much it had hurt.
“And now he’s trying to get you back. You know why?”
I shake my head through the tears that have suddenly sprung to my eyes.