Page 22 of Stepbrothers with Benefits
“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head under the spray to rinse his hair. “But you know, I like spending time with him.”
“Might as well just go to his place after here and sleep there.”
“Why?”
“You’re gonna see him for like five minutes and then pass out on his couch.”
“Eh, I guess you’re right.”
A ribbon of disappointment unraveled in my chest, but I kept my face neutral as I focused on soaping up. “So just go crash at his place.”
“Eh, I don’t have a key,” he said, bending down to clean something out of sight.
“He hasn’t given you a key?”
“We’ve only been dating a few months.”
“Yeah, I guess. You’re over there enough that I figured you had one by now.”
“I’m not gonna blame the man for not wanting to give a key to someone he’s barely known for three months,” he said, turning and shrugging as he rinsed off.
“I guess, yeah,” I said, but wasn’t feeling it. Maybe it was because I didn’t like Raf, but I didn’t see why he couldn’t give Milo a key. Sure, I knew Milo wasn’t a thief and wasn’t crazy enough to start breaking Raf’s shit, but really, how could you not figure that out about the guy in three months? When Milo wasn’t with me or in class, he was with Raf. Then again, from the sounds of it, Raf was usually busy doing something else whenever they hung out, so maybe Milo felt they had to spend so much time together to make up for how little Raf was present.
But c’mon, Milo was easy to figure out. In the best way possible, he was a simple creature, extremely easy to understand. He wore his expressions on his face, his heart on his sleeve, and he wasn’t a secrets kind of person. What you saw was what you got. But fine, maybe Raf had been burned before and was taking it slow, even if he knew Milo was a good and...well, not normal, but at least reasonably sane person. He might do crazy and sometimes stupid shit on impulse, but he wasn’t nuts or dangerous.
Ugh, it was probably better not to think about it too hard. I didn’t like the guy, even Milo knew that, though I had neversaid anything to him. I didn’t like how distant Raf was, how he seemed to be using Milo strictly for sexual attention and release, or just his general demeanor, like he was God’s gift to men. But he was Milo’s boyfriend, and I wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors if I held a grudge against him. Maybe I was annoyed because he rubbed me the wrong way or because I thought Milo deserved much better than that.
Or hell, maybe I was just jealous that someone was constantly taking Milo’s attention and time. I’d always been at odds with Milo dating, but kept my discomfort to myself. It wasn’t like I was his keeper, and I sure as hell wasn’t his boss. He should be allowed to date without worrying that I would get moody just because he was seeing someone. Plus, it wasn’t like I had stopped dating, and Milo had never made a fuss when I did.
We were both good about making time for the other, even if we were in the throes of early-stage love with a partner. For whatever reason, my annoyance with someone else taking up his time got worse with every boyfriend he had. I might have thought that getting older, and a little wiser, would make me less prone to such a stupid and selfish feeling, but nope, it had only grown worse. That Raf came off as a douche certainly didn’t help.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Milo’s annoyed voice cut through my thoughts. “Quit playing with yourself over there and pay attention.”
“I was thinking, maybe you should try it once in a while,” I said, arching a brow at him.
“Yeah, I tried that once before, and it’s just not for me,” he said with a heavy, almost wistful, sigh. “I guess I’ll have to leave it for people like you.”
“Wouldn’t hurt for you to try again,” I said, snapping the shower off and grabbing my towel. “Now what did you want, your Royal Highness?”
“Well, since we figured I might as well give up and admit I’m not going out tonight,” he said, voice muffled and a little shaky as he vigorously dried his hair. “I was wondering what we should get to eat.”
“Don’t feel like cooking?” I asked.
“What, do you feel like cleaning up after me?” he asked, which was fair. The agreement was if he did the cooking, I cleaned up. Of course, that was before you considered the impressive mess he made when left unsupervised in the kitchen. The thing was, he was a damn good cook; the kitchen always looked like a culinary bomb had gone off, but the food was always good.
I still wasn’t entirely sure where that skill had come from. He and I had spent some time in the hotel kitchen back in the day, but that was an industrial kitchen where we had to sit in one corner and watch the chaos unfold during dinner service or events. That wasn’t conducive to learning, though he had picked up some things. He also tended to watch food and cooking videos whenever he ate. It didn’t matter if he was eating cheap ramen or a good meal at a restaurant; he’d have videos playing on his phone while he chewed.
Personally, I thought he was just...naturally good at it. Sure, he had taken in a lot of information, but I suspected I wouldn’t be half as good at cooking as he was if I had the same information. Milo could walk into a kitchen, poke around to see what was stocked, and after a few minutes, get an idea and go with it. Other times, he’d get the idea to do something different with a dish and start experimenting. Most of the time, the meals were good, if not great, with only occasional failures.
“That depends,” I said as I bent down to clean my lower body. “Are you thinking takeout that’s better than your biscuits and gravy?”
He laughed. “I guess you’d have to decide that one.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Alright, what were you thinking?”
“Well, originally, I was thinking Indian, because of course I was. But then I remembered that place that opened up a few blocks from us, that Korean hot pot place.”
“I thought you wanted takeout.”
