Page 83 of Isolation
If he knows what I am trying to do then he should apply it in practice more often.
“Are you saying that I am not? You know, if you want me to be your girlfriend then you have to talk to me as such. You can’t talk to me anymore like I am a high school kid that you boss around.”
Milo peeks from the open bathroom door with a toothbrush hanging off his mouth. He disappears out of sight to rinse and comes back to the door frame.
He smirks at me cockily. “You are my girlfriend?”
My mouth drops open in disbelief. “That’s all you took away from everything I just said?”
He feigns a pensive look. “Yes, I did. But to be honest, I haven’t sowed my wild oats. I don’t know if I am ready for the commitment or that label.”
“First, I didn’t say that I was your girlfriend. I said if youwantme to be your girlfriend then you have to change your ways. Second, if you don’t want that label then you should probably stop telling people that I’m your girlfriend behind my back,” I retort.
“Fuck that.” He flashes me his stupid arrogant smile as I shake my head at him.
I have heard him threaten Brandon continuously to stay away from hisgirl. Whenever our family members ask about our relationship, Milo slips in the word “boyfriend” multiple times without fail. I have even heard him tell people that I amthe future Mrs. Sinclair.
There is only so much of his behavior that I can discipline.
My first true sexual experience shaped my preferences in bed, which basically consists of sexually craving Milo. Similarly, both of our first true relationship (if you can call it that), shaped our emotional needs.
Milo needs the world to know that I am his because he could never say it before.
As for myself, I need trust, respect and to feel safe around my significant other.
Feeling safe around Milo is a work in progress. Even Milo understands that, and I am grateful for it.
We have built trust over the last few weeks. However, I am still struggling with a gut feeling that Milo was behind our families catching us naked. My dad still has trouble looking me in the eyes. The recovery process from the fall has been grueling. And that look on Reid’s face haunts me till the day. I want to believe that there is no way Milo would purposfully put me in such an awful position. However, once broken, trust is hard to rebuild.
Since safety and trust is fickle, Milo sure as hell will not deprive me of respect. This doesn’t end with respecting my choices. It also means I don’t want to feel cheap, nor will I condone him speaking in a way that I don’t deem acceptable.
“I am serious, Milo. I already told you what I need from you. I get that it's all a work in progress, but you can be more cognizant about showing me respect.”
“I’ll do better,” he promises gently.
“You better,” I point my index finger at him threateningly. “I’m not yourwardanymore. While it’s fine in the bedroom, I don’t find it sexy to be bossed around by my partner outside of it.”
Milo raises his eyebrow, his tone light-hearted again, “Ward?Is this another outdated English word you picked up while in Paris or did you travel back to the eighteenth century for that one.”
Instead of responding, I close my eyes and collapse backward on the bed, now imagining what it’d be like if we really could travel back in time. I would love to live in Victorian times. It would be so romantic if Milo and I could attend balls and dance waltz.
My eyes fly open when I feel a pair of lips on me, pulling me out of my dreams of a Victorian world.
Milo tries not to touch me abruptly anymore. He made sure to stomp back to the bed so I’d hear his footsteps. Then he made a display of rustling around and dipping the mattress extra hard with his knee. I was curious to see how far he was willing to take this. I was half expecting him to ring a gong next.
He is working on making me feel safe again.
I smile against his lips and his “sudden move.”
“I didn’t want to kiss you with morning breath,” he murmurs.
“You have never had morning breath,” I say it because it’s true. It’s a weird phenomenon.
He shrugs. “You never know.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He smiles down at me, and I almost melt in his arms.Fuck. The way he looks at me, itmakes me want to stop breathing.It's like I am the sexiest thing in the world.What is this man doing to me?
“Hi,” I can’t help but suddenly feel shy under his unnerving gaze.
