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He bites the corner of his lip, then drops the jacket back to the floor.

“Fuck it. What’s a few more minutes?” he says, crawling onto the bed and covering me with his body.

I place my hands on his chest before he gets a chance to kiss me like he wants to.

“So let me get this straight. You curse when you’re angry and when you’re happy, too? You’re a very complex guy, Fletcher.”

He licks his lips, staring down at me. “Not at all. I think I’m pretty simple.”

“Really? How so?”

“Because no matter what’s on my mind, somehow it always comes back to you.”

My heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his voice.

“Wow, Morgan. I’ve never seen you at a loss for words before.”

“First time for everything,” I mutter, my cheeks flaming.

“I can think of a much better way to leave you speechless.”

“Oh, really?”

He glances at my lips. “Want me to remind you?”

I barely have time to roll my eyes before his mouth is on me.

Thankfully, Milo’s kiss is all I need to erase any embarrassment his words might have caused.

Unfortunately, our time is cut short when his phone starts ringing.

“Damn it,” he curses again, climbing off the bed to grab his phone from his jacket.

He flashes the screen at me. It’s his dad.

He presses a finger to his lips before answering.

“Hey, Dad. Yes, I know. Yes, I stayed over at Dylan’s. Yes. Sorry. I should’ve texted.” He pauses, and his eyes widen. “Why is my truck parked at Max’s?”

I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

“Oh. Dylan picked me up after I drove her home. Yep. Yep. On my way. Be there in five.” He hangs up and flashes me a cocky smile. “Crisis averted.” Then his gaze travels slowly over me. “Now, where were we?”

Apparently, we were a few minutes away from making Milo even later for his family’s Sunday lunch.

By the time I finally shove him off me, we’re both laughing.

“You need to go.”

“I know.”

“Like, now.”

“I know.”

Milo kisses me one last time anyway, then begrudgingly grabs his things and leaves.

I rush toward my window and watch him sneak out through my back door, just in case his dad happens to be watching from across the street. One look at him, and his cover story is as good as dead.