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He wouldn’t, and somehow I already knew that about him. I’d been so worried about what would happen, and now Milo was here, and suddenly I was feeling guilty for that worry and for not thinking of his business. “I appreciate that, but you also have to consider what’s best for you. My space is smaller than yours, but if you need to knock down the wall to expand, you should. I can find something else.”
He stopped chopping and looked at me. “What? No. It would be weird without you there.”
“It’s only been a day.”
“Yeah, but I have that idea in my head now. If I didn’t like it, you’d be in trouble, but I do, and now I can’t imagine it any other way. Even thinking about that stresses me out. I like things the way I like them, and I like my bookstore with Conflicting Ink next door, and wow…that was cool. I just automatically thought of it as my bookstore. Maybe this is me.”
“I’m glad you like it, but you don’t need a bookstore to tell you who you are, Milo. I might not have known you for long, but it’s true.”
“Yes and no…and it’s not something I always have a choice in. Some people can hide things about themselves. I can’t.” He shifted. “Like it’s totally inappropriate, but it’s killing me not to take my pants off right now.”
“Huh? Ouch! Shit!” A burning sensation shot through my finger with the slice of the knife.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I made you cut yourself.” Milo grabbed my wrist and tugged me to the sink. He turned the faucet on, pulling my hand under the water. “Does it hurt bad?”
I watched him, fascinated by this man who was my new friend. “No. I didn’t get it good. Just a little slice. Can we get back to the pants thing?”
Red climbed over his cheeks and freckles. “I’m not propositioning you for sex. I just hate pants—shorts too. I’m able to place the times I wear them into these boxes in my head. Like…I really don’t want to walk around the grocery store without them, but when I’m at home, taking them off is always the first thing I do. Something’s telling me I’m home, so I need to remove them, but it’s strange because I’m not home. My boxes are getting messed up, and I don’t like it.”
He used his free hand to rub over his face, discomfort rolling off him. I hadn’t seen this side of him before, not really. He took a step back and then another, and damned if I didn’t want to fix those fucking boxes. I’d climb inside his brain if I could and sort them out just the way he liked them.
“What if you were?” I asked.
“Were what?”
I turned off the water. “Home. I mean, technically, your boxes aren’t messed up. You own this building, so this apartment is yours. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and…I don’t feel right, staying here while you’re in a hotel or looking for a rental on an island that rarely has them crop up. Plus, you don’t drive, so this would make it easy for you to get to work. You should live here, Milo. My parents are on Little Beach. I could always stay with them or my brother and his wife.” The thought sat heavy in my chest, made my stomach tighten because I loved this apartment, but it was the right thing to do.
“Do you want to live with your parents or your brother and his wife? Do you want to move out?”
“I’m not sure that matters.”
“It does to me. Wait.” He turned and went for the hallway, didn’t ask, just peeked in the bathroom, then opened the spare bedroom door, followed by mine. “I think I could do it. I think I could live here with you. I had to see the rooms first, and I’ve never had a roommate, so I’ll probably be annoying, and you’ll probably be annoying, but I’m willing to try.”
“I…” Really fucking loved that idea, but he needed to be sure. “You could live with someone who’s not a friend?”
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, but I think we are friends now. Which is odd. I said that earlier when I told you about Rachel, though, how I like you both and normally it takes me much longer. So, we’re friends, if you want to be friends with me, that is.”
I grinned. It was a stupid, wide grin that was much too happy for the situation. “I do want to be your friend.”
“Do you want to try and be roommates?”
“As long as you promise that if you don’t like it, you tell me. Or if there are things I do that bother you, you tell me that too.” I wanted this to work out for him, for us. I didn’t want Milo making a sacrifice for me that would leave him feeling uncomfortable or out of his element. I didn’t want to be the reason any of his boxes were out of whack.
