Page 81 of Isolation
That will be backward momentum when we just took huge a giant step forward.
“I’d like to go home.”
CHAPTER 10
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Raven
I tiptoe inside Milo’s room, and place the tray with coffee, juice, and French toast on his nightstand.
We came home late last night. I waited as long as I could before bringing him breakfast.
I sit on the bed next to him to inspect if he is close to waking up yet. He looks dead asleep and, of course… dead drop gorgeous as usual.
Milo doesn’t have the covers over his body. I wonder if he purposely positions himself sexily while he sleeps.
His boxers are hanging so low that you can see his V-cut running to his lower abdomen. He looks like something sculpted by Michelangelo. Every single part of his body is contoured, and he fucking chose a position to show off all of his assets.
It’s ridiculously annoying for a man to be this good looking. I am not even into appreciating the physical aspects of men, but his aspects are hard to deny.
I use my fingers to brush the hair off his eyes so I can see his face more clearly.
Some time passes before Milo opens his eyes. I beam at him and I am quickly rewarded with that Sinclair megawatt smile. Both of the Sinclair boys know exactly what they are doing with that smile of theirs.
“Good morning.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s not morning. It’s noon, sleeping beauty.”
Milo groans and rubs his eyes. “If I am sleeping beauty aren’t I supposed to be woken up by true love’s kiss?”
I tilt my head. “Do you want me to go find you your Prince Charming?”
Milo turns his face away dramatically and closes his eyes. He looks so fucking cute. “I can’t hear anything you are saying unless I am kissed and woken up.”
I laugh again, feeling ridiculous. “That’s bullshit because you just responded to me.”
“I can’t hear you,” Milo sings with his eyes closed. “This is just me, sleep-talking.”
“Fine, you fucking liar.” I lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, and thank you for the flowers,” I whisper against his cheek. “They are beautiful.”
Milo had someone deliver flowers to the house and asked Mom to put them in my room. He must have done it while we were at his condo last night.
His daily efforts make my day. Sometimes it’s coffee, sometimes it’s flowers, sometimes it’s my favorite candy, or anything that reminds him of me.
My favorite is when he leaves post-it notes in my room with messages. I collect them in the same box where his lunch notes are stored from back in the day.
“You are welcome.” He gives me that smile again that makes my heart stop. His tone immediately turns demanding. “Now, my other cheek feels lonely.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you being impossible on purpose? How about you get your ass up so we can have lunch since the breakfast I brought you is now ruined?”
The tray of food is starting to look sad. The coffee is cold. The French toast looks soggy. I should have woken him up instead of oggling at him for so long.
Milo slightly opens his eyes to look at the tray of food but he doesn’t make a single attempt to move. “Looks good to me. Feed it to me.”
This man is going to be the end of me. “No, because that,” I point towards the tray, “looks disgusting. But if you get up, I’ll buy you lunch with some of my new hard-earned cash.”
“You are offering to be my sugar momma?” His lips quirk up with a smile. “You know what? I have always wanted to be a trophy husband.”
