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He lowered his head, breaking our connection. “I wish you didn’t do that, Teach.”
“Do what?”
“Smile my way. It messes with my brain.”
“And why’s that?”
His head slightly rose. His normally intense and cold stare was now soft, gentle, timid even. “Because when I see your smile now, I’m reminded of your smile from the night we met. And when I think about your smile from the night we met, I think about—”
“Milo.” I interrupted him.
He tossed his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. We don’t talk about that. But…” He leaned across the table, clasping his hands together. “We do daydream about it, don’t we, Teach?”
Yes, we do…
My hands trembled as I tucked my hair behind my ears. My tongue rolled across my suddenly parched lips as I broke our stare. An internal battle raged inside me. I knew my thoughts about Milo were inappropriate. I knew my mind had secretly crossed the line of professionalism, but I couldn’t stop it. Sometimes I’d blink and recall my hands on his body…his lips on my chest…my legs dangling against his shoulders… I’d have to shake myself physically to escape the spell he cast over me. I was good at being responsible. I never walked jaded lines...not until him, at least. What kind of wizard was Milo Corti, and why did his magic enchant me so well?
I cleared my throat. “Take out your math book, please. We’ll go over the assignment due tomorrow.”
His wicked grin came back. I hadn’t seen his sinister smile in some time now, and for some reason, it felt a little bit good to witness it. Sarcastic and rude Milo was what I’d prefer over heartbroken and struggling Milo.
After completing our tasks for the afternoon, Milo pulled out a flyer from his backpack. He placed it in front of me, and I looked at it.
“The Apostle Islands are supposed to have cool ice caves. I figured maybe I could do some shoots up there for my photography class.”
“Oh, that’s way up north, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I figured it might be worth the hike. It’s about six hours away.”
“Very neat, Milo.”
“Do you want to come with?” he asked. “I know you mentioned you used to hike a lot with your mom, and the hike to the caves is about two miles. Plus, it would be nice to have someone help with the gear and set up the shots. There’s a cheap boutique hotel we could crash at for a day, then drive back. I can even drive it if you don’t want to.”
“You want to stay at a hotel?” I commented, a bit flustered by that idea. “Together?”
He smiled. “If you want to share a bed, just say that, Teach.”
“Milo, stop,” I sternly stated out loud, but inside, my thoughts began to sprint. My face heated as my mind imagined what that situation would look like. Me in his bed, pretending not to feel what I felt. Trying my hardest not to have our arms accidentally brush against one another as we twisted and turned throughout the night. That seemed like a recipe for trouble.
“Separate rooms,” he offered.
Why did a sliver of disappointment trail through me?
“Of course, separate rooms,” I echoed, hoping he couldn’t read my body language. “And you’d want us to drive together?”
“Figured it made sense to save on gas.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an issue?”
Yes, Milo. Of course it is. It’s completely unacceptable.
Instead of saying that, I stumbled over my words. “I mean, well, it is part of your assignment…and I did offer to help you, so I guess that makes sense.”
No! No, Starlet! That definitely does not make sense.
“Like a field trip of sorts,” I presented, trying to resolve any self-guilt I was battling.
I was hit with a push and pull of conflict in my chest after he asked. Yet most of me wanted to go. I wanted to see the ice caves. I wanted to hike. I wanted to spend a weekend with Milo.
That was the most troubling truth about it all.
“Great. Two weeks from now?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied. I said it so freely, too, as if I wasn’t making a terrible decision. What about that man made me want to make bad life choices?
As I stared at him, my chest tightened slightly. His expression had shifted to something I hadn’t seen often from him. Did he seem to be…smiling? A real smile, too, slightly bashful even. The dash of anticipation that leaked out from behind his normally sarcastic and mundane expressions made my own lips curve up. Milo was such a professional at using sass to cover up his true feelings, so for me to catch that smile slipping out seemed like a major deal. Was he nervous about the trip, too? And was he excited? Did he get the same kind of butterflies as me? How dangerous were the two of us together becoming?
