Page 113 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

Nothing else matters or exists as long as Milo is kissing me. I have no idea how long we stay like this—seconds, minutes, hours—but I don’t care either. We could be putting on a show for all of Hickory Hills and that would be the least of my worries. My only priority is making sure that Milo knows that he is my priority.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, breaking our kiss.

Pressing our foreheads together, he lets go of my hips, both of his hands sliding up my body to the nape of my neck, then into my hair, cradling my head. I close my eyes, sighing, inhaling his manly scent. One of the many things about him that feel like home.

“I missed you,” I say back, relief flooding through me. I relax into him, the last of the tension leaving me. “When I didn’t hear from you, I was worried that you didn’t think I was worth it.”

“Bren,”—Milo presses a soft kiss to my forehead, then leans back, looking me straight in the eye—“you are absolutely worth it. More than. But the note you left said not to call or text, and I was trying to respect your wishes and your space. Give you the time you needed to figure out what you needed to.”

“The note was for Brandt, not you.”

“Since you didn’t address the note to either one of us, we weren’t sure.”

Ohhhhhh…shit…

“You errrr…were just supposed to telepathically know?” I joke, hoping that it lands.

Milo laughs, and my heart soars, thankful he’s not mad. “Next time, let’s not count on my powers of telepathy, huh? Because I’m gonna be honest with you, they suck. Which is why you heard from Willa. I wanted nothing more than to call you, to tell you what you mean to me, make sure that you’re still mine…”

My heart leaps. My insides do an entire Olympic gymnastics floor routine out of excitement. Milo is still in this. Still wants me.

“I’m still yours. As long as you’re still mine.”

“As I see it, we didn’t actually break up.” He smirks again, and I swear, if he doesn’t stop, I might come right in this field. “So yes, I’m still yours.”

I grab hold of Milo’s neck, yanking him in for a kiss. One that I hope tells him all the things that are on the tip of my tongue. That I want to say out loud, but for some stupid reason am still holding back.

I need to not hold back.

“Milo,” I blurt out, my voice ragged from our kiss. “I lo⁠—”

I cut myself off, still unable to fully form the word. Fuck, I want to. So, so bad. So much I can taste it. I don’t know why I can’t. We’ve been saying it to each other for weeks in roundabout ways. But there’s something about those actual words that’s big and scary and getting in the way.

“Yeah?” Milo brushes a piece of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear, that damn smirk making another appearance. “Say it, Brenna. Say it.”

Those baby blues stare back at me, softer and more caring than ever. In them I see everything I’m feeling reflected back at me. And I melt.

“Need me to say it first, baby?” he whispers. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you to think that I was using it as a way to manipulate you into staying in Hickory Hills, but there’s no doubt about the way I feel. I love you.”

As if God hit the pause button, everything around us freezes. All the setup, all the voices, everything. If I thought I felt this way before, I was wrong. So, so wrong.

“I love you, Milo. You’re my choice. Hickory Hills is my choice.” I pause, letting all the warm fuzzies surrounding me settle in. I want to remember this moment. “When I think about my future, you’re what I see. Us, in our hometown, running a brewery and a drugstore. Just two hometown kids, doing hometown things.”

For the first time this afternoon, Milo’s smirk disappears, replaced by a massive smile. One that belongs to me. Only me.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“I might.”

We both laugh, and Milo takes my hand, rushing me toward the far part of the field, in the opposite direction of the tennis courts.

“Where are we going? Don’t you have to finish setting up?” I ask.

“Well…sure…but…” he answers, throwing open his truck door. He lifts me up, depositing me on the seat. “So, here’s the thing. We’re roommates with your brother now. And, as such, I made some concessions on places where PDA is and isn’t acceptable.”

“Okay…”

“Basically, I’m only allowed to touch you in my…our…bedroom.”