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It had been exactly nine days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes since Ivy realized Milo was quite possibly perfect for her. And for every single one of those days, hours, and minutes, she tortured herself about what to do while avoiding Milo at all costs. She stopped leaving her bag in the staff room and instead hid it behind the stage. She arrived as close to performance time as possible to ensure she wouldn’t have time to see him beforehand. And she had gotten very good at sneaking out the side exit after the band finished for the night.

Milo, for his part, had kept his distance as well, making Ivy question everything. Maybe he was fine without her. Maybe he didn’t miss her at all. Maybe he was relieved to be rid of her. But Ivy wasn’t one to pine, or wallow, or drown her sorrows in ice cream and sappy movies. 

To put herself out of her misery, she ended up on Milo’s doorstep at one o’clock in the morning, her hand poised to knock, a trickle of sweat running down her spine. She knocked once and waited. Ivy knew for a fact he would still be awake. They had both left Vito’s a mere half hour ago. She knocked again.

Her heart hammered alarmingly hard in her chest. What was she worried about? This was Milo, for God’s sake. Harmless, sweet Milo. She swallowed hard, and her throat was sandpaper. She should go. Clearly, this was a terrible idea. But just as she turned to leave, the door swung open.

Milo stood in the doorway, his hair damp. He had already changed into sweats and a t-shirt, and Ivy suddenly wished she had gone home to shower, change, and maybe sleep before coming here. But it was too late now. She had to know, one way or another, if things could work between them.

“Hey. Everything alright?” Milo looked her over, apparently checking for damage. But the damage was not visible to the naked eye.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. I just… uh, can I come in?”

Milo stepped aside, and Ivy hurried into his apartment. He closed the door and followed her into the living room. She still couldn’t seem to look him in the eye, so instead, she paced. He watched her from where he stood, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Ivy.” His voice stopped her in her tracks.

She was forced to look at him and realize for the millionth time that week that she did, in fact, find him attractive. 

“What’s going on?”

She wrapped her arms across her chest and forced the words from her mouth. “It’s just that I miss you. I guess.”

“You miss me?” His mouth tipped up into a smile, and that damn dimple appeared.

Curse that stupid dimple.

“Yes. I miss you. And I thought maybe…” She trailed off again, and Milo lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“You thought maybe?” He pushed away from the couch and came to stand in front of her. His clean, soapy smell drifted around her. Even his smell was wholesome. And yet, the way he was looking at her wasn’t wholesome at all.

Ivy stepped towards him until their toes touched. “Let me try something.” She wrapped her arms around Milo’s neck and stretched up to meet his lips. He didn’t move. He stood completely still while she pressed her mouth against his. 

He was completely still until he wasn’t. Suddenly, he was wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her closer. Then he was kissing her back, his tongue sliding against hers. His breath was fast and jagged, matching Ivy’s sighs and purrs.

Holy shit. I’m kissing Milo, and it’s hot as hell.

Ivy pushed Milo backward until they tumbled onto the couch, still kissing, still holding tight to each other. She stretched out on top of him, running her fingers through his damp hair. It really was good hair. 

Just when she thought she could keep kissing him forever, Milo pulled away.

“Wait a minute.” He was out of breath and his cheeks were all pink.

Ivy was having a hard time not finding the whole thing very adorable. But she waited.

“What is this?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“I was hoping that would be pretty obvious, Milo.”

He let out a small laugh. “No. I mean, why are you doing this?”

Suddenly, this was an awkward conversation to have while lying on top of someone, so Ivy sat up, and Milo followed.

“I’m doing this because I want to. I thought you wanted to too?”

Oh God, is this the part where he rejects me and says he changed his mind? Am I too much of a hot mess for him to deal with? Shit.

“Maybe I should go.” She tried to stand, but Milo grabbed her hand. 

“Don’t go.” He kept her hand in his. “I’m just trying to catch up here. And I don’t want you to think this is the only way we can spend time together. I shouldn’t have said all that. We can be friends. If that’s what you want, Ivy.”

His face was so earnest, and his hand was so warm. How could she possibly not want more with him now? She scooted closer and draped her legs over his. He ran a finger down one leg and then the other leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“I never should have assumed you’d be like every other asshole I’ve dated. You never gave me any reason to believe you would be.”

Milo smiled, and Ivy’s heart cartwheeled out of control. 

“And as it turns out, you’re kinda hot, Milo.”

His smile widened. “I mean, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

Ivy laughed and pushed his shoulder. Milo moved toward her, nudging her back until she was lying on the couch, and he was braced above her on his elbows. He ran his nose along hers and planted a single kiss on her lips. She could feel his heart beating against her chest.

“What do you want, Ivy?” His voice was barely a whisper across her skin.

She looked up into the eyes that had become so familiar to her but now looked at her with such intensity. She kissed him again and murmured the words against his mouth.

“You. I want you.”

 Featured Image by Pablo Heimplatz via Unsplash