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He goes completely still, his throat working double time.
“Are you sure?”
I nod.
“We don’t have to,” he says, even though the unmistakable bulge in his jeans tells me just how much he wants to.
“I know we don’t.” I brush my fingers through his curls. “But I want to. Don’t you?”
He swallows again before nodding.
“More than you know.”
“Good.” I smile, leaning down until my lips are barely an inch from his. “Because I want my first time to be with you.”
Just as I’m about to lean in for a kiss, Milo catches me by the nape of my neck, stopping me before my lips can reach his.
“What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, he rolls me onto my back and hovers over me, the intensity of his gaze pinning me in place far more effectively than his body ever could.
“I don’t want to be your first. I want to be your only. I want to be the only man that can touch you,” he says before rubbing his thumb over my lower lip. “The only one who has your scent committed to memory,” he continues, burying his nose in my hair. “The only one who knows how you taste,” he adds before biting the lobe of my ear, making my toes curl. “That’s who I want to be to you. Not your first. Your only.”
I reach my hand to his cheek and brush my thumb over it.
“Good,” I breathe out. “Because I don’t intend to love anyone but you.”
His tense muscles relax, the frown on his face disappearing.
“But I’ve never done this before. So just… be gentle.”
His forehead creases again as he continues to look me in the eye.
“Fuck, Max. You really don’t get it,” he says, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. “I kissed the wrong girl once, and the love of my life paid the price for that one mistake. Do you really think I’d ever touch anyone else who wasn’t you?”
I blink once. Then twice, waiting for his words to fully sink in.
“So you’ve never—”
He shakes his head, looking almost insulted that I’d even consider the possibility.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for. I made the decision to stay true to my heart a long time ago, Max, and I intend to keep that promise by loving you for as long as you’ll let me.” His thumb traces the curve of my bottom lip. “And if what you’re trying to tell me is that my time with you is limited, even if all of this goes away in a couple of months, I’ll still love you. From afar, if that’s what you want. I’ve gotten pretty good at doing that anyway.”
His voice falters on those last few words like he’s close to losing it altogether. Just as he’s about to turn his face away, I catch the hurt in his eyes.
“No, Milo. No. That’s not what I want.” I gently turn his head to face me, desperate to ease his pain. “Do you honestly think I want us to end when we leave for college? That I’m counting down the days until I have to say goodbye to you?” I shake my head. “I’m scared, Milo. Scared that once we’re hundreds of miles apart, everything we have now will slowly slip through our fingers. And I don’t know how to stop that from happening.”
“We can start by not acting like it’s already happened,” he whispers. “By not letting fear dictate our happiness. Don’t I make you happy?”
“So much.”
“Then let me keep making you happy. And never doubt that I was put on this earth for that very reason.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me by placing his index on my lips.
“I’m a simple guy, Max. I’m not particularly ambitious. I don’t have any hidden talents. I’m just a guy who knows how to throw a ball. That’s about it.” He gives a small shrug, as though he’s stating the obvious. “But when I lay in bed at night and think about what I’m supposed to do with my life, what my purpose is, it’s your face I see. It’s always you, Max. You’re my reason. And I need you to understand that.” His voice grows quieter. “Because every time you doubt it, every time you act like what we have is somehow temporary, or fear that someone else could possibly steal it away from us, it breaks my fucking heart.”
