Page 57 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

I told you, it’s not like he’s giving me the silent treatment, but we’ve been like two ships passing in the night.

One of us coming while the other is going or we’re both rushing out the door at the same time, or there’s a note left on the counter. But, I don’t think we’ve said more than eight sentences to each other since…

I let those three little drama dots speak for themselves. Mell knows exactly what went down between Milo and me on his parents’ boat. She pushed for a lot more details than I was comfortable sharing about my own personal fireworks show on the Fourth, clearly wanting to live vicariously through me with her husband deployed. I told her more than enough—including how he set the bar for orgasms going forward. Milo was not kidding when he said he was going to put Sherlock to shame.

More importantly though, my best friend knows all about how I slipped off to a blissful sleep in his arms. That something about being held in those strong arms of his, nestled against his solid chest, lulled me into submission. Or maybe that was the earth-shattering orgasms he delivered. What she doesn’t know is how being curled up with him like that felt like…home. Like all of him was chiseled for no other purpose than fitting me in the space. In the same way that my grandmother's salt and pepper shakers are made to fit together.

Maybe he’s just really busy? R&B is coming up fast, and with Brandt in CO…

19 days though? 19 days of ‘hi’ ‘bye’ and a note on the counter that says ‘back late’?

Fair point

I sigh, shifting myself on the couch, my notes slipping off my lap and onto the floor. I don’t bother picking them up. Because let’s not lie, I’m not really studying. Sure, that might have been my intent when I sat down, but it’s not what happened. I have been distracted all day—just ask Mr. Hovland. Although he thought my distraction was because I was thinking about my upcoming test, and not because it’s been almost three weeks since my older brother’s best friend not only made me see stars, but made me temporarily forget my own name in the middle of Silver Lake.

IDK why I expected anything else. It’s not like we were actually dating.

You said he said they weren’t pity dates though

The memory flashes back, warmness spreading through me as Milo’s words play back in my head. So swoony and perfect. Especially in that deep voice of his. More than enough to make any girl fall. Hard.

He did. And I believe him. But that doesn’t mean anything. He agreed to give me the second date I’ve never had, and that’s it

Is it though?

Yes…

I pause, thumbs in midair. I will not have a pity party. Not over the guy who up until recently was like another big brother. Just because he has very talented fingers and an exceptional tongue doesn’t mean I’m going to let myself get tied up in knots.

Maybe just more like a pretzel.

I mean, is it too much to want a guy to want to play with me?

Milo played with you

OK, more than once…

So, ask him

Errr….what?

Huh? Ask him what?

On a third date. Why he's avoiding you. To be fuck buddies. Take your pick

I cannot ask Milo Hayes to be my fuck buddy!

Sure you can…

oh, hubby’s calling. Talk later

I send her a thumbs-up, still too in shock over her last suggestion. Fuck buddies? Seriously.

Even if I could bring myself to proposition him like that, that’s not what I want. From Milo or anyone else. I want…it all. I want dates, and late nights lost to laughing together, and stolen kisses. And more than anything, I want the wildest dream moment. The one that’s all over social media. I want some guy to stop dead in his tracks and lose track of whatever he’s doing all because he saw me standing there, because I’m his fantasy come to life. As a pop song casually plays in the background. Naturally.

That’s one fantasy I’ll be keeping to myself though.

Picking up my notes, I click on the TV, the silence of the apartment making it hard to think. I don’t need to throw a raging party, but some kind of background noise is necessary. And I know just the thing.