“Come for me, big man.”
My entire body tensed as I shot my release. Untouched. My cum hit me on the chest and all the way to my chin. I spasmed again and fucked myself on Milo’s toe, riding out the wave until I collapsed on the blanket.
Rowan
“Is everything okay?” I asked Milo in the car. We were approaching Wendigo Hills after a drive that had been growing quieter with every mile.
“Why?”
“You haven’t skipped a song in ten minutes.”
Milo looked ahead and adjusted his seatbelt. “Can we stop by the cemetery?”
“Of course.” I changed lanes and veered toward tall iron gates. “Do you want me to wait in the car, or can I go with you?”
“Would you?”
“Absolutely. If you’re okay with that.” I treaded carefully, unsure of what Milo needed from me. Anabelle’s birthday was on August third when he’d gone to visit her with Ethel, but Icould sense this was about something else. I looked at my watch. It was August sixteenth. Was the date important too?
Milo sat straighter. “Yes.”
I parked along the street and followed Milo to the tiny store by the entrance, where he bought three candles and a pack of matches. He walked through the gate, but paused and reached for my hand. I squeezed his slim fingers in what I hoped was comfort or assurance that I was there for him, at least today, for now, whatever he needed me for.
Neatly trimmed bushes surrounded the area filled with old gravestones in front and more modern ones as we ventured farther in.
Milo stopped by a plot with swirly beige marble which had Anabelle’s name and fresh flowers on the left, and Ethel’s name on the right.
“Hi Auntie, this is Rowan,” Milo said, swinging our linked hands. “He’s here only for the summer, but I wanted you to meet him.” Then he let go and lit one of the candles he’d bought.
His words hit me in the chest. He’d made an emotional impact on my life and until now, I hadn’t realised that I could have done the same to him. It wasn’t the first time I was considering moving into Wendigo Hills permanently for Milo, but only now, I believed he might want me to stay. Why hadn’t he asked me to?
He shouldn’t have to.
During evenings when Milo would fall asleep before me, I’d go over the options I had for work in a small town. Employment opportunities were not plentiful or up to my standards. I had an idea for a business, but I couldn’t do it by myself and it would be financially very risky. Maybe Troy would have ideas? I’d have to talk to him before giving Milo any semblance of hope I could move to Wendigo Hills.
“Hello,” I said awkwardly, and waved at the grave.
Milo snorted and stood up, having lit a candle on Anabelle’s side. “I don’t believe she can hear me, but talking out loud to her helps me decide what I’d like her to know if she was still here.”
“That makes sense.” I stroked his back gently, and he leaned into my touch, wrapping my arm around his waist.
“I told her about you already. I don’t want to keep you here, so come meet my parents.”
“I don’t mind staying as long as you want.”
Milo took my hand and led me in a swirly path between graves until we stopped by a black and grey marble tombstone for two people whose last name I recognized. Janine and Thomas Tolbit, died on August sixteenth. Today was the anniversary of their passing. Fuck. No wonder Milo had been so melancholy since morning.
“Talking to them is more difficult because I don’t remember them as clearly as Aunt Anabelle. I never shared the uncomfortable secrets about high school crushes and all teenage first times with them.” He knelt on the grass and lit the remaining two candles he’d bought. “I came here for my twenty-first birthday, though with a bottle of whisky. The police found me passed out where I’m now in the middle of the night.” He brushed a leaf off the marble. “Not my best moment. Aunties were so worried about me.”
I joined him on the ground. “Your parents would be so proud of you.”
Milo elbowed me. “You sound like Ethel.”
“Thanks.”
Milo shook his head and leaned into me. “They were killed by a drunk driver before I turned thirteen.”
He was opening up, and I wanted to scoop him up and hug him. Instead, I kept my cool and listened. “Is this what you don’t like celebrating it?”
