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Maddened, I brace my hands on top of my head and turn around to face Milo. “Stop laughing,” I whisper furiously.
“I’m sorry,” he lies, but his eyes sparkle with genuine amusement and make it hard as hell to stay mad at him. In a feminine tone I assume is a mockery of my voice, he says quietly, “He’s not in here!”
“Shut up,” I whisper, smacking his arm, then turning to look at the door. “How are we going to get out of here? What if he’s in the hallway watching? I didn’t exactly play that cool.”
“No, you did not,” he agrees a little too enthusiastically.
I glare at him. “Be helpful or be quiet.”
Eyes still glinting with amusement, he grabs me around the waist and tugs me against him. “You weren’t telling me to be quiet a minute ago,” he says playfully.
Impossibly, my cheeks burn even hotter. Avoiding his gaze, I mutter, “That’s because you clearly knocked something loose in my brain when you shoved me against the wall and turned me into a sex goblin. Everything’s working right again, and we need to get out of here without Jet catching us or I will literally die.”
“Relax,” Milo says, not nearly concerned enough about getting caught.
“What are you doing?” I ask, since his gaze isn’t even on me despite his arm around my waist. He’s looking at his phone.
He holds it up as if to show me, then taps the screen.
The doorbell rings, and I hear footsteps in the hall as Jet calls out, “I’ll get it.”
Milo winks, then lets me go. He opens the door and slips out.
Just to make sure we haven’t been spotted, I peek my head out, too.
The coast is clear. All I see is Milo’s perfect ass as he walks down the hall.
Shaking my head to clear it of the last remnants of lust, I ease the door the rest of the way open, hit the light, and step out into the hall.
I’m at the mouth of the hall when Jet walks back from the door, frowning. “That’s weird,” he says.
Milo is in the kitchen with two plates. “What’s weird?” he asks nonchalantly as he carries them to the table.
“The doorbell just went off but there’s nobody there.” Jet’s intent gaze is on his phone screen. “The live view doesn’t show anybody, either.”
“Oh, that thing’s been on the fritz lately,” Milo says. “I think we need to power it all the way down and reboot it.”
“Really? This is the first time it’s happened to me.” Jet is still trying to figure out the doorbell, but I’m watching his dad put the last of the food on the table and grab a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.
“You guys eat dinner at the table?”
Milo glances over at me, surprised by the question. “Of course. Where else would we eat it?”
At my house, we usually eat standing at the counter or maybe sitting on the couch. Most of the time, Mom and I don’t even eat dinner at the same time, so no one has to think about where we’re eating.
At first, I think he should know that since he dated her, but then I realize he saw the fake version of my mom. We actually did eat take-out at the table a couple of times when he came over. She likes to pretend she’s a better mom than she is when she has an audience. I think she even asked me how school was that first day.
I shake my head at the memory, but with it comes one of them standing at the kitchen counter, his back to me as my mom stood in front of him flirting and being gross.
It was gross then, and that was before.
It’s so easy to forget how I met him when I’m here.
The doorbell goes off again, dragging me from my thoughts. Jet stomps toward the door and I frown at Milo, who frowns back and silently shakes his head in a gesture that wordlessly expresses, “Wasn’t me that time.”
When Jet comes back in, he has his brother with him.
“Forgot my keys,” he says by way of explanation.
