Page 36 of Milked

“Those plans were coming to DC?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I took a bite of salad and slowly chewed before swallowing and taking another sip of wine. I wanted to prod more into why he came here and why he struggled to talk about his family.

“Do you have siblings?”

His hazel eyes widened, and he glanced away, cramming several potatoes into his mouth.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked, terrible at changing subjects, but I let it slide. I supposed he didn’t trust me enough yet to talk about whatever had been bugging him.

“You may.”

“I know Finn approached you, but… how? I mean, why? No offense. I just mean, it’s… unusual, this sort of relationship.”

“It is unusual, but I don’t regret it, even if we always have to be careful. While Finn was persistent, that hadn't been his original intent. It all started with the death of his mother. She loved him, and he loved her. Make no mistake; his falling for me came with a lot of guilt for both of us. When she left us, Finn was seventeen. He often came into my room, not sexually at first, but for support. He’s never had a lot of friends to lean on, so he chose me, probably because we both lost her—him more than me. Yes, I loved her, but we’d only been married for about three years.”

“So, it started as supporting each other?” he asked.

“Yes. A year passed, and our relationship slowly changed. It didn’t happen overnight or anything, and I wouldn’t have let it happen when he was so young. Regardless, looking back, I saw the signs. I hadn’t at first because I’d never been overly sexual until him, and I hadn’t seen him in that way, either. He would continue to come into my room late at night, needing me, and I let him. He was almost nineteen when he finally admitted his feelings for me. I think he held back for so long, not because of his age, but that I’d never been with a man before, and he was uncertain… among other things.”

I dug into my meat and took a bite as Ryder thought about my story and sipped wine. “Did he have therapy?”

“Definitely. We both saw a grief counselor.”

“What tipped the scales?”

I smiled at the memory and finished off my wine. “This requires more cabernet.” I grabbed the bottle on the table and poured us some more wine.

“To be honest, I was already starting to feel an attraction to Finn, though I fought it. It was hard not to, with him in my bed all the time, and I would wake up with him sleeping against me. Or we’d watch a movie together at home, and he’d sit close to me with his legs curled under him and his head resting on my shoulder. We’d formed this strange bond that was growing stronger each day with each new touch.

I woke up one morning with Finn straddling my stomach, looking down at me. I couldn’t help but admire his beauty, with his golden waves shimmering in the morning sun and the splash of faint freckles all over his skin.”

Ryder chuckled shyly. “He is very pretty. But not you. You’re rugged. Handsome. You’re both very attractive in different ways.”

I gave him a single nod. “I will take the compliment. So, that morning, he leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of my head, staring right into my soul… I swear, I couldn’t breathe or move. The only thing telling me I was still alive was my rapidly beating heart. Finn just told me outright that he loved me, and more than as father and son, though we aren’t related. He said he wanted no one else. They wouldn’t be good enough. Then he pressed his lips to mine. When I didn’t kick him off me, he kissed me again. Jesus… my body was set on fire. I tried to fight it, but my body didn’t give a fuck. It wanted Finn. Eventually, I eased him off me and told him no. But it didn’t take him long to convince me we were meant to be. We did a lot of talking over the course of two months, digging deep into our attraction—and the guilt, like we were betraying his mother.”

“It all seemed to work out,” he said.

“It did, for the most part.”

“And you’re not jealous of me? Is Finn?”

“I expected to be, but no, we’ve grown to really like you already, Ryder. You’ve added an interesting element to our relationship. You haven’t weakened it but, strangely, strengthened it.”

We ate some more of our dinner before it grew too cold and finished off the wine. I wanted Ryder a little loose to see if I could pry more of his past out of him.

We moved to the living room, where I poured us each a glass of bourbon. I turned sideways, one leg underneath me and my arm resting on the back of the sofa so I could look at him.

“You know, if you need help with something, you just need to ask. Or if you simply need someone to talk to. Finn or I will listen. I think you’re bottling up some things, and I can promise you that down the road, it will all come spilling out.”

He stared at his crystal tumbler and nodded. “It’s… too much sometimes, to where I can’t breathe. I left my family and friends… Everyone is behind me. I’m trying to look forward, but it’s chasing me and chasing me. There’s no place left to run, and no time left to breathe. But… I can’t. I can’t talk about it. I can’t confront it. I can’t go back. Not yet…”

“Ryder…” I whispered, reaching for his shoulder and gripping it gently. “Talk to me.”

He looked at me with unshed tears and shook his head. “I need to go.”

He stood abruptly and set his glass on the table, but before he could run, I stood, grabbed his arm, and tugged him against me, holding him close. “Okay… okay. I’ll leave it alone.” Ryder held me back for a moment before easing away from me. “I’d like you to stay if, for any reason, you’ve been drinking. You can sleep in Finn’s room, or if it makes you feel better, you can sleep in mine. I promise nothing sexual.”

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