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“Fuck tomorrow. Fuck yesterday. We have tonight. So let’s have tonight.”

“Milo Fletcher cursing,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood, but he is having none of it.

“Just feel, Max. Just…” His gaze holds me captive as he lowers his mouth until barely an inch separates us. “Just feel.”

I let my eyelids fall shut and, for once, stop fighting what I want. And let myself feel.

My breath hitches the second Milo’s warm lips press against mine. He lets out a soft moan, and my insides quiver as his lips take command of the kiss.

Yesterday, his kiss had been sweet and tender. Not tonight.

Tonight, Milo has had enough of my shit, and seems determined to show me exactly how much having me back in his arms means to him.

I shiver in his hold as he teases my bottom lip until I have no choice but to give him entry. His tongue slides against mine, exploratory at first before turning more demanding, as though he needs to swallow every little moan he’s able to coax out of me.

I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Max,” he rasps, guiding me back against the gate, one hand pulling my leg around his hip. “You taste so good. Fuck, I missed this.”

The words come between heated kisses, his mouth leaving mine only to move across my cheek, my chin, then lower to my throat.

I quickly tug at my scarf, loosening the knot to give him better access. I feel his smile against the crook of my neck before he peppers the newly exposed skin with kisses, nibbling at my exposed throat, until the only thing keeping me standing is his grip on my waist. And when his sinful mouth finds its way back to mine, I all but combust.

Here’s the thing about Milo.

Falling for him the first time was easy. Falling for him again might just be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I wish I was stronger when it came to him. But if coming home has taught me anything, it’s that there are some people you move on from and never think of again.

And then there’s Milo.

When I feel him press against me, his hard length rubbing against my wet core, a strangled sound tears from my throat, my nails digging into the nape of his neck. If I hurt him, he doesn’t complain. He’s too lost in this. In me. In us.

I’m seconds away from waving the white flag and telling him to do his worst when a pair of blinding headlights washes over us, abruptly reminding us that the rest of the world still exists.

“Fuck,” Milo groans, dropping his forehead onto my shoulder as we both struggle to catch our breath.

Heat floods my cheeks as I silently pray whoever just pulled up to Alder Cemetery isn’t someone we know. Although, at this point, I’m not sure it even matters.

Milo regains his composure faster than I do. He straightens my scarf, then gently runs his fingers through my hair, smoothing away the evidence of our kiss.

He makes absolutely no attempt to do the same for himself though. His hair remains perfectly disheveled, his lips slightly swollen, and the heated look in his eyes makes it painfully obvious that he’d be more than happy to pick up where we left off, regardless of who might be watching.

He knows me better than to think I’d ever go along with that.

“You go first. I’ll walk behind you.”

I don’t even question him. I slip through the gate with my head bowed, grateful for the darkness as I hurry past the car and attempt to hide the flaming evidence of being caught making out like a teenager.

By the time I reach the bottom of the hill, Milo falls into step beside me and threads his fingers through mine.

“Well, that didn’t exactly go according to plan,” he grumbles.

“So you planned on making out with me against a cemetery gate?” I tease.

“No.” His mouth curves into a wicked smile. “But I hoped.”

“You’re incorrigible.” I laugh, my heart feeling lighter than it has in… well, frankly, years.

“And you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”