Lost In The Fray

Fifty Six

Nia

I haven't even stepped into the house before Milo's mouth is on mine. With one hand at the back of my head and the other on my hip, he pulls me into the house and slams the door behind me. His tongue swirls with mine, and I press a hand against his chest, but there's no fabric to grip at, and I grope at his bare chest.

I've seen his bare chest more times than I can count, but I've never touched it. I run my fingers over his skin like I'm memorising the contours of his muscles and the way they react to my touch. Milo's fingers get tangled in my hair, and without knowing when it happened, I realise I'm pressed up against the door.

He keeps his body off mine, but I know he wants to close the distance. His hand grips at my hip until it's almost painful.

I move my hands lower against Milo's stomach until I reach the hem of his shorts, and he moans before he pulls away from me.

He looks wild. His pupils almost swallow his wide, grey eyes and his swollen lips part as he fights to claim back the oxygen he lost. His damp hair sticks out at every angle.

"Erm, hi?" I say when he doesn't say anything.

He doesn't move but continues to look into my eyes with a fierce stare.

I lift a hand from his stomach to his cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I really want to take you upstairs." His voice is low and raspy and makes my body ignite, and my stomach tightens.

"Then take me upstairs, tough guy."

He narrows his eyes, and when he still doesn't move away from me, I slip out from his hold, prising his fingers away from my hair. I kick off my shoes and drop my bag to the floor beside the messily filled shoe rack.

"How was swimming?" I head to the stairs, ignoring if Milo is following me or not. My question seems to ignite some excitement in Milo because his feet pound up the stairs behind me as he tells me all about his session. His voice lightens, but there's still a hint of something that heats my blood. "Did you win?"

"Always." He follows me into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move away from the door, and I feel his eyes fixed on me. "Your dad alright dropping you off?"

"Yeah. He was on his way to Simon's anyway." I lower myself onto Milo's bed, and my eyes draw to the basketball game playing on the TV. The TV itself has been pulled out from behind Milo's desk and is free from the dust that lay on it before.

A games console stands below it, one controller on the floor, the other on his scruffily straightened-out duvet. The trainers that used to fill the wall behind it have dropped to a reasonable amount since giving away over half of them to Dad.

I scan the walls, eyeing each of the items that have been recently hung. There are a few drawings of Katy I figure never made it into Milo's school artwork. A bunch of our selfies have been stuck straight to the wall, some photos, some drawn.

The painting I did of him as a monster, what seems like a lifetime ago, is framed and hung on his wall.

I scan my eyes over bits of his room that make this feel like it's lived in by a teenage boy and it warms my heart that he has the time and the mental space to reflect himself in his room now.

"What?" Milo asks as he sits beside me.

I settle my eyes on Milo's face, trying not to stare at his naked chest. "I like it in here."

"Me too." His eyes don't roam around the room as mine have just been doing but study my face.

"Why don't you have a shirt on?" I blurt out when I can no longer keep my eyes off his chest.