Copyright © 2020 Drethi Anis

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Dedication

This book is for my friends who found themselves out of work, just like I did, due to COVID-19. Let's make something better during times of desperation. A portion of the proceedings will go to them.

Also dedicated to:

My amazing husband.

My insightful friend Candy.

And my wonderful friend Bunny, who was the namesake.

PROLOGUE

March 13th, 2020

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Raven

I can feel Milo's eyes on me before I even see him. I glance through the living room window, and sure enough, there he is, all six feet of him. He is standing right outside of the brownstone, his gaze transfixed on me. I hope he is stunned. I can use the element of surprise to my advantage.

I knew this day would come, but it doesn't make it easier. At least I have a leg up. I have been practicing my demeanor and my confident stance. I want the upper hand.

Milo grins and lazily struts to the front door of the house. From the window, I can see that he still dresses well.

He is in a black suit that hug him at all the right places, with a white dress shirt, no tie. His suit jacket is unbuttoned. So it's easy to make out his defined body under the thin scrap of the shirt's material. His shoulders are broader than I remember, indicative of the strict gym routine he probably still follows. Experience tells me that his clothes are expensive.

He always had an air about him. One that screams, "I barely put any effort into looking this good." All the girls ate it up.

When we were younger, all my friends swooned over his tall, athletic physique, rigid jawlines, dark brown hair and green eyes. I was hoping that he had aged horribly into his twenties. Maybe developed a bald spot or became fat. No such luck. The asshole is still the epitome of male beauty. I bet his popularity with the female demographic has not changed. They probably still fall at his heels.

All but me.

It doesn't work on me because I know better. He might be enveloped with an angel's face, but he is darkness, and he made my life dark. He is Lucifer, the devil himself, disguised beautifully to trick mortal women. He is my worst nightmare.

None of my mental preparations are enough to overcome the siege panic that suddenly engulfs me, as he turns the lock. I am standing in the living room of his beautiful Upper West Side brownstone. I stay frozen in front of the large floor to ceiling window, as Milo opens the door. My first instinct is to run upstairs and lock myself in my childhood room. My second is to take off my red bottom shoes, and hit his cocky face with the pencil sharp heel. Or maybe puncture one of his eyes with it. He will be one-eyed and scarred, just like he scarred me. The thought alone brings a smile to my face. But I suppress it.

Instead, I focus on the game plan. I will freeze him out and act nonchalant. My apathy always wounded him, more than my rage or sorrow. Anger, fear, trepidation, tears are all results of some form of emotion. And he got off on my emotions, any of them. It's my apathy that he couldn't control or tolerate.

I plan to throw him off by consistently dismissing him. I want him to feel belittled, without me having to actually belittle him. I want to show him that he has no influence or hold on me. He can exist or not exist. He is just part of this environment, like furniture.

I understand it's not the most creative game plan, but it's the best I got. Well, the best is telling Reid or our parents what he did, but that would cost me more than I can bear.

With my thoughts rampant, I lose sight of the fact that the devil has officially flung open the doors and is headed right to me. He stops to look at me with an unreadable expression. I stare back blankly, hoping to give nothing away.

I just finished my last day at work. I am in a black cocktail dress, with some nude pumps on. The dress is conservative enough with a jacket on. But since I took the jacket off, the halter dress is exposing a bit more skin than I planned to show. I feel exposed but I don’t let it show.

Milo looks at me for what seems like an eternity. There is an intensity in his gaze that makes even the most confident people squirm. But not me, not today.

"Rave."

I don't respond and just level him with an "oh it's you" stare. As he walks towards me, my whole body tenses and I shake a little. I can be mentally apathetic, but physical reactions are a whole different ball game.

"How have you been?" he says warmly as if we are some sort of old talking pals, who are catching up.

My mind goes blank, as he reaches close enough for me to smell that familiar musk scent. A scent that used to bring me comfort. Now it is only a reminder of my horrors. Instead of answering, I throw him off.

"Milo," I say cooly. "Come in. Would you like a drink?"

"You are inviting me to my own home and offering me a drink? Shouldn't I be the one offering you a drink?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay. Get me a drink."

He starts to grin at my attempt to turn the tables. I want to slap that cocky grin off his face. Instead, I give him my drink order. "I will take a dry martini, with orange bitters and a lemon twist. Olives will do if you don't have a lemon. I prefer it in a chilled glass. You can probably chill the glass in the ice bucket."

I hold my facial expression, as Milo gives me another amused look. Milo has always been polite, so I know he will comply and play host. I was never going to make that motherfucker a drink. I need him to be aware that this is a power struggle, and I am forcing him to cater to me.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it on the back of one of the living room chairs. His body looks even more defined and stronger than I assumed. I am instantly aware that he can overcome me, even faster than before.

He waives an arm out. "After you," he says, motioning me towards the kitchen.

We strut over to the large island, that has a liquor shelf built to the side. I keep a safe distance, with eyes in the back of my head, as he follows me. The pepper spray in my back pocket is a straining reminder that I am not so trustworthy or naive anymore. I refuse to underestimate the risks of the predicament I am in.

I have thought this through. This is the only logical solution, but I am still uncomfortable with the conclusion. Staying at this house is far from ideal. In fact, it's my last resort.

Rent in New York City is absurd, even with roommates. And due to my full-time unpaid internship, the only jobs I could do was bartending or waitressing, after work and on weekends.

So I shared a shitty basement, with two other girls. I worked at my internship from Monday through Friday, and then as a bartender after work, from Thursday through Saturday. I was exhausted by my seventy hour work weeks. And I could still barely scrape up enough cash for food and rent.

That was my level of commitment, rather than coming back to live in this hell hole. And for a little while, my plan was working.

What I didn't account for is COVID-19.

A few months ago, we heard an inkling of something called coronavirus, discovered in the Wuhan district of China. Apparently, it was spreading very quickly.

The problem with humans is, we believe what we see. At that time, it seemed like it was a problem for the other end of the world.

In less than two months, the first case of COVID-19 was reported in the USA, on the west coast. Still, those of us on the east coast skated away, not worried about what will happen.

Within a few weeks, COVID-19 was all over the USA. Currently, all states have it, except for West Virginia for some God damn reason. In fact, most of the world is reporting cases in their countries. It's a pandemic of a proportion we have never seen in our lifetimes.

The government immediately set in protocols. Social distancing. Complete shutdown. Isolation. Stay indoors. Today was my last day at my internship. The company decided to close down till April, or until the situation progresses for the better. And a few days ago, I lost my job as a bartender. All part-time servers were laid off, as the government is encouraging people to stay indoors.

Loss of job, loss of hope, complete isolation. I had no idea what to do.

Reid, along with the rest of our family members, twisted my arm into moving back to the Sinclair home. I couldn't find a suitable explanation that will satiate Reid and them, about why I couldn't live with my family during these desperate times.

I have been laid off from my bartending gig. My internship is unpaid, so I have no other income coming in. The government is telling us to stay indoors, and it's much better to share a household with your loved ones, than two girls I barely know. I had a month to month lease with the landlord, which was easy to break due to this epidemic.

As free food and accommodation are readily available at my childhood home, at a time where it seems like the world is ending, what excuse can I possibly provide to decline this offer?

It was checkmate. They had me.

I took comfort in the fact that the whole family will also be staying here, as we are all going into isolation for a minimum of two weeks, maybe more. Not that their presence ever stopped Milo before, but at least I have them to rely on. This time I will be more vocal, stand my ground, and stand up to him.

I bring my attention back to the situation at hand. He is still watching me as he starts looking through the liquor shelf. He pulls out a bottle of red wine and pours two glasses.

He shrugs, "We don't have any gin for the martini. I hope you still like Malbec."

"That's fine!" I love Malbec. I still grind my teeth. He does have gin. He knows that I spat out a complicated drink, knowing full well that Reid stocks all the ingredients for martinis.

He is forcing me to acknowledge that he won't bend over backward for me. I bite down the inside of my cheeks. That fucker!

I graciously accept the glass of wine. I have to establish a polite, ladylike, and aloof nature, creating a distance between us. Familiarity breeds contempt. If I act childish or chide him like he is a close friend, he won't take me seriously and might try to manipulate me further.

No, I need to act refined, mature, and well put together, while I give him the cold shoulder. He has to know I am untouchable and confident. I won't take his shit anymore. Milo should tense before making any demands. I am not a little girl anymore, who is consistently seeking his approval. I will not be bullied into unacceptable behavior or be taken advantage of.

I focus on staying distant and take a small sip of the red wine.

"When did you get back to New York?" His eyes are glued to me.

"A week ago." I lie smoothly. I have been dodging him for years. If he knows I have been living in New York for months, it's going to start an argument off the bat.

"Are you working?"

"I am doing an internship at Karen's company." I clear my throat. I am already uncomfortable.

"What about Paris? And your mom?"

"It didn't work out." I hate this conversation. I don't want him to know about my failures.

"And now you plan to branch out on your own?"

I nod and take a sip of wine. Much needed.

"I am guessing it's a non-paying internship since Karen thinks gracing interns with her presence is the same as paying them an actual salary."

I nod again, truly hating this conversation. Loathing every admission.

Realization dawns on him as he cautiously continues, "With the COVID outbreak, you can't possibly work a part-time job now. So you will stay here. We are all camping out in here as well."

I don't respond. I don't have to. He made a statement that I am staying here. He didn't phrase it as a question.

Milo knows about my pride. He knows I'd never be here unless I was desperate. It literally took a pandemic, an apocalypse, end of the world, to get me back here.

From what Reid told me, Milo’s business has become a huge success. He created an app when he was in college. It took off, and it landed him on Forbes’ list of 30 Under 30 brightest entrepreneurs. As a result, he stays quite busy. He often travels for work. Whenever he comes back, he stays at the brownstone more than his condo in Soho. It's not a surprise that he chose to come back to the brownstone to stay here during the quarantine. He always liked being around his family.

Of course, it’s not enough to be rich and handsome. He also has to act like the prodigal son, which annoys the shit out of me. He'd rather hang out with his siblings, than party like a regular twenty-five old single man on the prowl. As a result, both of our families love him. Everyone loves him. Again, everyone but me. I know better.

A chill runs through me, as I remember why and how I know better. I am suddenly unnerved and claustrophobic. I feel lightheaded and I'm in need to compose myself. I am not in complete control and need to find an exit strategy quickly.

This run-in served its purpose. He knows I am back. He knows I will be living here while the government shuts everything down. Years have passed since I last saw him. By this point, I have to believe he has grown up and become a better man. Everything will be different this time around. It has to be, for my sanity.

With that resolution, I make up my mind to leave him be. I will only be around him once Reid gets back home from campus. All universities have already shut down due to the COVID-19 panic. Reid had to tie up some loose ends and is coming home later tonight.

I will avoid being alone in the house with Milo for the duration, as well as in the future. As far as I am concerned, this conversation is over.

"I am glad that's settled. I wish I could stay and catch up but I have to unpack. Thank you for the drink." I am shocked that my words came out coherently. I am almost shaking now, and my legs are about to give out under me.

Milo is still eyeing me as he takes a sip of his wine. I don't wait for his response or permission. I don't need it.

I put my wine glass down and turn on my heels. Without glancing back, I walk towards the stairs. My goal resides on the top of those stairs, my room, my sweet escape away from him. I have already installed a lock, in case he gets any funny ideas in the middle of the night.

As I am walking up the stairs, I feel a gust of air move behind me. Before I can turn, two freakishly strong hands come around my waist, hoisting me up the stairs. It all happens so fast, I don't even have a chance to scream. It registers with me that Milo moved from the island and followed me. He now has me in a hold, with my back held to his front.

I find my voice, and I let out a bloody murder scream at the top of my lungs. Milo is faster. By the time I am screaming, we have already reached the top of the staircases.

"You think you can waltz in here after four years, and give me the fucking cold shoulder," Milo growls as he walks with me in his arms. "You didn't think I'd know you moved back months ago and have been avoiding me. What the fuck, Raven!"

I freeze, momentarily forgetting to struggle against his arms around my waist. Of course, he knew I moved back. He played along to fuck with me. To humor me, so I'd think I am in control, till he can catch me off guard and get what he wants.

As Milo walks up the stairs, some of my shock subsides. I scream back at him, "What the fuck are you doing? I swear to God, you so much as touch me and I will go to the police. I will tell our families. I will tell everybody. I am not letting you get away with this shit anymore."

"Do it."

"What?"

Pure shock overcomes me. He wants me to go to the police and embarrass our families.

"Do. It." Milo enunciates each word through clenched teeth. "Do all of those things. When will you understand? I don't fucking care."

Before I can respond, he is already opening the door to his room and walks us inside, as I am still struggling and trying to hit him. Then I hear the familiar snick of lock sound, indicating that the doors have been sealed, and so has my fate.

I can feel a new wave of panic overcome me, as my whole body betrays me. I am shaking, but I refuse to go down. I reach for my back pocket, but the pepper spray is not there. I am mortified to realize that it dropped out, probably while he was manhandling me.

Fuck! Fuck!

I have to think on my feet. I try a last-ditch effort, appealing to his rational side.

"Milo, listen to me. You have to stop. Reid is just about to come home. He is going to hear me scream. He might be your brother. But he is my best friend. You know he will kill you if he finds you forcing yourself on me. He will never forgive you. Your relationship will be…"

I don't quite finish my sentence as I am tossed on the familiar bed. Milo immediately covers my body with his, keeping me in place with his large upper body.

I am mortified. I try to hit him with my hands, legs, elbows. Anything that will make contact. I scream as I push his chest back and try to kick him in the groin. I could have saved my breath.

If possible, Milo had gotten stronger and bigger in the last few years. I can't move him. His legs keep mine in place. He grabs both my wrists and pins them on the mattress.

"Enough Rave," he spits out.

I start screaming again. "Fuck off. You have no right to do this to me..."

"No right? I am the only one with the right." He whispers in my ear. "You are mine. Or did you forget?"

"I am not yours. I will never be yours. Forcing me does not make me yours."

"You are still lying to yourself. Just like you lied about Reid coming home. You don't think I know when he is coming home. If you stop lying to yourself and to me, we wouldn't be here."

"Fuck you!"

He crushes his lips onto mine. He nips at my bottom lip till I part my lips, and slips his tongue inside my mouth. His tongue starts to explore my mouth aggressively, leaving me no space to reject it.

This can't be happening. I am trying to catch my breath, but his mouth is not letting me. As I focus on getting oxygen, I can't think of a plan of action to get out of this situation.

One of his hands goes between us, pulling the black dress I am wearing, up to my waist. He pushes my thong down forcefully.

I try appealing to his humanity if he even has any left.

"Milo, listen to me. I have known you all my life. You are a good man. You know this is wrong. Please don't do this," I whisper. There has to be something left inside of him. Some sort of semblance of the man I used to know.

He puts his forehead to mine and groans, "Rave, I thought about you every single day, every hour, every fucking second. I can’t stop now. Not when you are here, finally in front of me."

"Please just stop, and I will forget this ever happened."

Milo glares at me. "You will never forget this happened. And you will never forget me. I won't let you."

He starts to trail kisses on my neck and moves up to my jaw. His voice drops. "Fuck! I missed you. I missed you so fucking much. You don't know how…" His voice starts to shake.

His lips collide into mine again. Shaking with anger, I try to bite him. I try to reach for anything in the vicinity of my teeth. His nose, his lip, his ears. His head falls back, and he curses out as I make contact.

"Stop it unless you want to get punished!"

"Get off me right now, or I will do it again."

"Then, I guess you want to be punished."

"Get off me!" I yell as loud as I can.

Milo doesn't even bother responding to me and pretends like I am not there, while I am literally under him.

I try using my limbs again to attack him. He has to know that I won't go down without a fight. I will not just lie here and take it. Milo collects both my wrists and grabs them with one of his large hands. He pins them both on my belly and drops down towards my lower body.

Before I can comprehend what he is doing, his tongue is on my clit. He knows where my sensitive spot is, and he immediately finds it. One of his hands has both my wrists pinned on my belly, pushing down with force and keeping me locked in place. The other hand travels south as he slips two fingers inside me.

Completely boxed in, I will my body not to respond to his tongue, as it invades my slit. I already know it's useless. He knows every single spot on my sex and can make me come with blindfolds on.

It's no different this time. Within minutes, I arch my back and clench, knowing what's about to happen. He knows it too. He has released my wrists. They no longer need to be held down, as I am now chasing this high on my own.

I hear the opening of his zipper in the background, as my eyes flutter shut. I already know from experience that he has pulled down his pants.

Unable to hold back any longer, I let out a scream. "Oh God," my mouth is open as the orgasm takes over. He immediately swaps out the tongue on my clit with his fingers and then swaps his fingers with the head of his cock. The switch between the three happens so fast that I don't feel any sensation leaving that spot.

He prolongs my orgasm for an unbearable moment, as he keeps rubbing the head of his cock to that same spot. I stay arched and fist my hands. My voice is stifled. I can't even scream. As my orgasm leaves me. I immediately feel his dick stretching me out.

He enters slowly, too fucking slowly. I feel him shake with his efforts to control the pace. He roars out, the moment his cock is all the way in. "Holy shit, baby! Fuck!"

Instead of thrusting, he pants heavily and stills. He strokes my hair as he stares down at me. The intimacy is unbearable.

Still panting, he finds a slow rhythm, testing the water. He covers my neck with soft kisses and works his way up to my face. "Fuck, baby! I missed you. I missed you so damn much. You are even better than I remember. You are fucking perfect."

Milo speeds up more, thrusting and rotating his hips. I can barely catch my breath, but I refuse to make any more sounds that might make him happy. I lie completely still, with a blank stare, waiting for him to finish. I know this bothers him more than anything. While I have no control over this situation, I can at least have control over this small moment. Apathy is my ultimate form of defiance against him.

I can feel the anger at my defiance, pulsing through his body. It's quickly followed by a look of determination. He nibbles at my bottom lip. Then he drops his head to suck on my neck, twirling his tongue around a spot I like. This is tough for me. It's a sensitive spot.

But I refuse to give him another inch. This fucker is forcing himself on me. He got me to orgasm, simply because he knows my body. And he passed it off as consent. I am not going to give him any more satisfaction. Fuck him!

As my resolve grows, I can almost feel that his does too. He slows his thrusts and drops his head to lick my breasts.

My dress is still hiked up to my waist. Instead of pulling my dress off, he pulls the top down, so my outfit is bunched around my midsection. He grabs on to one of the cups of my bra and yanks it to the side to reveal my right breast.

His tongue swipes over my breasts. He licks my nipple, then takes it between his teeth, grazing them.

I don't look down at my breasts or at him. I can feel his eyes watching me, waiting for a reaction. I stare straight at the ceiling. However, my insides are frozen. I have a bad feeling about what he is up to.

There was an accident once, during our intimate times together. He was fucking me and flicking my right nipple with his tongue. He nibbled on it with his teeth, exactly when I squeezed him. The squeeze surprised him, and he thrust up, hard. His body shot forward, just when he had clamped down on my nipple with his teeth. To say it was painful is putting it mildly.

From what I understand of this psychopath, his fixation on me comes from my rejection. Women throw themselves at him. I didn't have the same interest in him. Given that I wasn't even one-tenth as beautiful as the girls he brought around, I think it irked his huge ego.

Hence, he wants me to crave him. Being the perfect narcissist that he is, he wants me to like his physical touch. So he always only did things that got me off.

After that incident, I recoiled from sex for a couple of days. I wouldn't get aroused, no matter how hard he tried. And he was not going to allow me to recoil from him. Since then, he only sucked gently or licked my nipples. He never used his teeth.

Until now. Now his teeth are on my nipple, holding me at mercy, ready to clamp down. The memory of the traumatizing pain comes back, and panic starts to flare all around me. He knows I hate this. I know he is doing it to punish me for my defiance.

I can feel the slow fucking speed up a little faster with each thrust. We are playing a game of chicken to see who will fold first. He wants me to give him an expression. He can deal with anger or lust. But he can't deal with nothingness.

I don't want to risk the possibility of a harder thrust, right as he clamps now. I know if I give him something, he will stop. I also know that if he clamps down, he risks my body recoiling the next time he touches me.

I shudder inwardly at the thought that there might be the next time. All the same, I decide to call his bluff. I stay frozen and expressionless.

Suddenly, without any provocation, he changes his mind about this stupid mind fuck of a game. He licks around my nipple and flicks it instead. He then licks his way back up, and I let go of the breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

He sucks on my neck, and this time I relax from my trepidation. I am grateful that the fear is gone. As I relax, he speeds up, pumping faster into me. My whole body jerks from the impact. His dick rubs against my sensitive clit, enough to send some aftershocks from the orgasm. Despite myself, I arch my back and moan out as another orgasm takes hold.

"That's it, baby! Come with me."

My eyelids fly open as I realize what I have done. The fake me out nipple clamping was a distraction. I was so relieved he didn't bite down, I got distracted enough to let go of my resolve. And gave him the expression he truly wanted, my submission. That dipshit.

I don't even have to look at him to know he is wearing a smirk. With nothing else to prove, he pounds harder, as he climaxes inside me.

Afterwards, he kisses my cheek, my neck, looking content as hell. He wanted my submission. I gave it to him. Yet again.

"That was amazing."

He buries his head in the hollow of my neck as I turn away my face. He holds on to me tightly and utters, "I knew you would remember. Your body always remembers that you are mine. You will always be mine."

CHAPTER 1

Nine Years Ago

August 7th, 2011

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Milo

I wipe down the kitchen counter, which is still littered with food crumbs. I should have known better when mom decided to make breakfast. She was high on life earlier today, cooking and singing. She made a massive mess in the kitchen.

Right after breakfast, she crashed from her high and retreated into her room. Reid and Mia have no idea what happened and why her door is locked again. I am not going to ruin one of the only good days they have had with her in weeks, so I decide to clean up the mess and take the runts out to see Uncle John.

It's one of our various family traditions, one outing per weekend, no matter how small. During the weekdays, Reid and Mia are in school. They don't notice mom locked away in her room for hours on end. But on weekends, they are around for far too long, so I distract them with made-up activities; as if it's completely normal for a sixteen-year-old to be in charge of his thirteen-year-old brother and eight-year-old sister.

I finish cleaning up, as Mia and Reid run downstairs. Mia almost loses her footing at the bottom. I smile and shake my head. Lifting her up I swing her around.

"Wheeee…" she squeals out. I put her down, and she falls into a fit of giggles. Reid and Mia tug at their socks and shoes, ready to leave the house. I have barely done the laces on my combat boots when Reid opens the front door, practically flying out.

I smirk. He can't wait to see Raven, his best friend. Today is the day Raven and Uncle John officially moved in next door. And we are going over to welcome them.

Though we call him uncle, we are actually not related. Uncle John is my dad's best friend. They grew up in a small southern town in Virginia. The friendship was solidified through religion. Both of their families are devout Christians and they both grew up in the church community. Throughout their lives, they tried to instill the same values in us. It didn't quite stick.

After high school, they went to the same college. They even applied to the same medical schools, but it didn't work out. Dad ended up in New York, while Uncle John ended up in Boston. They settled in their respective cities, but still considered each other to be brothers. So he was always Uncle John to us.

I was three years old when Uncle John got married. Within the year, they had a baby girl, Raven. And my parents had Reid. In fact, Reid and Raven were born on the same day, one hour apart.

So naturally, they struck up a lifelong friendship. Growing up, they were inseparable. Every time Dad visited Uncle John in Boston, Reid tagged along.

When I was younger, I used to visit them too. But the last time I visited them was eight years ago. That's when Mom got "sick," and life went to shit.

Mia was born when I was eight. And mom started having mood swings, crazy highs, and lows. Initially, they chalked it up to postpartum depression. Later she was diagnosed with major depression. Finally, it was anxiety, depression, and now she is currently being investigated for bipolar disorder. The opinions have been many, with even more drugs and therapy treatments. Nowadays, she just hangs out in her room, coming out on select days when she is feeling well enough.

Our lives took a huge hit when mom's unsuspecting disorders crept up, disrupting life as we knew it. She became utterly oblivious of her surroundings, drowning in self-pity. Her bedroom and her bed became her solace. And we became strangers to her. It's not like she is abusive or anything. Deep neglect is the best way to describe it.

One time, when Mia was young, I came home and found her crying her little lungs out. She was alone in her crib. Her diaper hadn't been changed, and she possibly hadn't been fed for hours. I quickly realized it would be dangerous to leave Mia alone in mom's care. I convinced dad to hire a part-time nanny, and started helping with Mia after school.

Once Mia was old enough, I found a reputable daycare. Even then, mom forgot to pick her up a couple of times. Once more, I had dad hire a nanny to care for Mia after daycare. It was alright for a while.

However, when Mia turned four, she started rebelling against nannies with a vengeance. She became super attached to me and would throw a fit if any strangers tried to take care of her. When she started school, it was World War III with her, trying to part ways when I dropped her off in the mornings. As needed as I felt, it was a lot of pressure for a thirteen-year-old to be in charge of his five-year-old baby sister.

Dad tried his best to help, but he worked such long hours at the hospital that Mia simply never developed an attachment to him. He didn't have a choice. Mom lost her job after missing one too many days. Dad picked up extra moonlighting shifts so that we could carry on the lifestyle we grew accustomed to.

Initially, we tried to make it work without a second income. The previous owners had customized our house in almost a duplex style. The downstairs has its own entrance, kitchen, bedrooms, living rooms, a complete apartment. We felt comfortable enough to rent it out to make up for the loss of income. But after one freak tenant to the next bad tenant, we decided it's not sustainable for a family of five to rent out a portion of their living quarters. Our alternative was to cut back on the semi luxurious lifestyle we lived.

We are not rich, but we do have a brownstone on the Upper West Side, all three of us go to private school, and dad started trust funds for us when we were young. While we are not made of money, we are quite comfortable.

Financial stability is something dad never had when he was growing up. He didn't want us to be deprived of opportunities because of money. I get it. He wants us to have the best chances and opportunities in life. The New York City public school system will not provide that for you. Private schools and trust funds will.

Hence, dad started working extra moonlighting shifts on his off days. It was so hard to watch his tired eyes with dark circles from lack of sleep.

That's when I decided to step in. I couldn't let dad drown. I did whatever I could to help around the house. I never complained to him and never let him understand the effect of the burden of raising Mia and Reid had on me.

As far as he was concerned, they were taken care of at school all day, followed by various after school activities. It didn't cross his mind to figure out who picked up Mia after school, if their homework was done, if they were being disciplined for poor behavior, if their lunches were being packed, or what they ate for dinner. You know, the general upkeep of raising children.

He was always the main breadwinner in the household and had literally no clue how the children were being brought up. That was always my mom's job. He never questioned how those duties were still being filled, considering mom was absent and Mia shrieks anytime she sees a nanny walking into the household. It's a trigger. Mia assumes if the nanny is coming to stay over, then I am going to leave her.

Considering the drastic change of role in my childhood, it didn't leave a lot of time to travel. Hence, I haven't gone to Boston since I was eight, and that was the last time I saw Raven. I wonder if she still has that sweet tooth of hers. She used to steal candy and sweets from the kitchen and hide it all over her room. I am sure she has changed. After all, she was only four when I saw her last.

I did, however, frequently see Uncle John, whenever he visited New York.

Uncle John is my hero. He is my biggest cheerleader and he just gets me. I can talk to him about everything. He doesn't judge people for their shortcomings and never passes out unkind opinions. Being a man of faith, he always tells me that he has his own demons too. And hopes that if he ever falls, someone would be kind enough to help him without judgment.

Even in his professional life, he is an all-around hero. He worked for Doctors Without Borders for years before he got married. He is a gem of a human being and is big on giving back to the community.

While he did reserve any judgments about my mom, he understood the toll all of this took on me. During the last few summer vacations, he invited Reid and Mia to stay with them in Boston, giving me a much-needed break to be a typical teenager. Mia loves Raven and Uncle John, so she didn't throw a tantrum being away from me. I was finally able to have friends over, go to parties, have sex; all the normal teenage shit.

In the last eight years, Uncle John has been my constant salvation. And now I have to be his. His wife, Theressa, recently left him and his thirteen-year-old daughter. Uncle John is heartbroken.

When Uncle John married Theressa Beckett, she was a runway model and an aspiring fashion designer. Uncle John fell hard. He became obsessed with her and wanted to marry her. She didn't feel quite the same. But her fashion designing career never took off, and she was getting too old to be a model. At that point, she was just a glorified party girl and socialite. The prospect of settling down with a rich, semi-handsome doctor was not so horrendous.

She was still on the fence about marrying him, till she got pregnant with Raven. Our parents will never admit to this story, but I have heard it from enough family friends, to know it's true. Theressa only agreed to marry Uncle John because she was pregnant. Uncle John never wanted kids. But if it meant that he'd get to marry the woman of his dreams, he didn't mind.

So Theressa put her ambitions on hold and pursued a role as a mother and wife instead. She was content for a while. They both were. She still did sketches as a hobby on the side and kept in touch with her contacts in the fashion world.

Things changed drastically in their quiet lives when one of her designs caught the eye of another successful designer. Theressa was offered a job, which entailed living in Europe, between the cities of Milan and Paris.

When it came down to choosing between her dream job and her marriage, she chose the job. Of course, it was not feasible to take a thirteen-year-old with her when her job required consistent travel and an inconsistent schedule.

So she left them both behind.

Uncle John begged her, even went to Europe to win her back, but Theressa was determined. She knew that life as a wife and mother was not for her. He has been a mess ever since.

My father suggested that they move to New York City, so they could be closer to us. At a time like that, you need your family. But I suspect the real reason is that Uncle John is a terrible father. Although he is a role model to me, he is better as the fun uncle, not so much as a father. He never wanted children and now has no idea what to do with Raven.

Dad thought we could all keep an eye out for each other, and also make sure that Uncle John doesn't go off the deep end. It made sense.

The move was surprisingly easy. Uncle John already had a license to practice in New York, and dad was able to hook him up with an interview at his hospital. There was also a brownstone up for rent, just a couple houses down from us. Within a few weeks, they were able to shift down here.

Hence, here we stand. In front of their new brownstone, ready to welcome them with open arms and open hearts. I plan to remember what Uncle John taught me. Help those in pain, without judgment. And show the kindness that we hope to get back someday. Uncle John showed me so much kindness over the years, and I am ready to repay it, however I can.

My siblings spring forward as the door flies open. We all pile in, and soon there are hugs being exchanged. I grab Uncle John into a bear hug, instantly noticing the deep-set dark bags under his eyes.

As I release him, I catch sight of jet black hair flying everywhere, the darkest shade of black I have ever seen. I have barely registered the hair when a pair of the most beautiful hazel orbs look me dead straight into my eyes, as if peeking into my very soul and pulling it out of my body. It's the most intense eye contact anyone has ever made with me. The orbs don't waver, not even once, even as I try to stare them down. What the hell! Before I can say a word, two tiny arms fling around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

Vanilla!

That's the first thing I register. I am engulfed in the smell of warm vanilla, maybe mixed with a hint of lavender. It's intoxicating.

"Milo! I am Raven. I know we met when I was younger. But since one of us was still going through cognitive development, I think it's only fair that we consider this to be our first meeting. I want to officially introduce myself."

There is no way this is Raven. She doesn't look thirteen. She looks like she is fifteen, possibly sixteen.

I try to wrack my brain for photos I have seen of her. I have seen pictures of her and Reid, in his room. I guess he only put up photos from a long time ago because she looked a lot younger. I assure you, she did not look like this. This, I would remember. She looks like a completely grown-ass woman. She is thirteen! What are they feeding these kids at school?

Raven pulls back from her hug, and I can't mutter out a response to her eloquent introduction. It's embarrassing. Suddenly I am nervous, very nervous, trying to come up with a witty response.

Then I notice what she is holding. In her right hand is a half-open snickers bar. I couldn’t gather my thoughts to come up with a witty response and end up bursting out laughing. She follows my gaze to see what I am laughing at and joins my laughter, as if it's normal that we are already sharing a private joke. She is too adorable.

Finally, I stick out my hand. "Well hello, Raven. It's nice to meet you, post cognitive development."

She laughs again, and brushes off my hand and takes me into another big hug. I am surprised at her affection and warmth, but I hug her back. She might be too sweet and innocent for this city. It's going to chew her up and spit her back out.

Raven links one arm around mine, and another around Mia's, like we are some old friends. She has become great friends with my siblings over the years, but she doesn't let me feel left out from their private circle.

She leads us inside and shows us around the new house. Raven excitedly talks about their move, the new furniture, her new room, and everything under the sun.

Uncle John stays quiet. He interjects here and there, barely responding to my attempts at a polite conversation. Finally, he excuses himself, something about catching up with work.

My gaze follows him. I know the signs of depression a little too well. I also know, depression is not a luxury a parent can afford. Especially a single parent.

I hope Uncle John remembers that he has someone depending on him. He has seen me suffer for years, due to one depressed parent. He has to snap out of it.

When I focus back on the scene at hand, I find Raven setting up the game console. Mia and Reid are busy putting together a model train set, a gift Raven brought for them from Boston.

"What are you playing?" I ask, sitting down next to Raven.

"Mario Kart. Wanna play?"

I grab the second controller from her, and we set up our characters. Pretty soon, she is kicking my ass. I am literally losing to a little girl. And she is smack-talking, with that smart ass mouth of hers. I would be annoyed if I wasn't laughing so hard. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard.

After a couple of hours, I forfeit. "Are you guys hungry?"

All three of them grunt, too busy with a movie they just put on. I call our favorite delivery place and look for Uncle John. I haven't heard a peep from him. I search the house, but he is nowhere to be found.

Did he leave? He didn't even say a word to us, or to his daughter. Is this a normal occurrence between them?

I find Raven in the next room, setting the table.

"Hi." She gives me a big smile when I enter the room.

"Did you see your dad leave?" She hesitates and then shrugs.

I try to remember Uncle John's words. I shouldn't judge him, and this is none of my business. But curiosity gets the better of me.

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. He sometimes needs to get away to clear his head."

"And he doesn't tell you where he goes?"

Another shake of her head.

I am quiet. Then press again, "Does he stay out all night?"

"Sometimes. He is going through a lot," Raven says casually.

I am stumped. How can she be so casual about this?

Raven is also going through a lot. She is just a little kid. And her mother left her. She is telling me that her father also regularly leaves her throughout the night. They just moved in today. How can her father leave her, in this empty house, in this new city, without even telling her? I can't understand why she is being so cavalier about this.

Sure, I deal with my own parent drama, but at least I have the good sense to be angry at them. Raven doesn't give away anything with her expression. I don't know if this makes her angry, sad, hurt. She is blank.

I don't voice any more concerns. This is none of my business, and I have enough on my own plate.

Once the delivery arrives, Raven and I set up the food. Reid and Mia pile into the dining room and barely use their utensils as they devour everything in front of them. Raven laughs with me at their savagery and has the sense to eat like a normal human being.

After dinner, we stick around for a bit longer. I am waiting and hoping that Uncle John will come back. As the night progresses, it becomes clear that he is not coming back. I tell Raven to pack a bag and come stay with us.

"Oh no, that's okay!" Raven looks irritated at my suggestion. I don't understand this girl.

Mia chimes in, "Please Rave, please come home with us. Let's have a slumber party. Pretty please."

"Really guys, I can't. I have a tour scheduled at the school tomorrow. Plus, I have to unpack the remaining boxes."

"Jesus Rave, just come back with us. There is no one here." Reid echoes my sentiments.

Raven doesn't make eye contact with any of us. "You guys are making a big deal for nothing. Dad probably got called into work for an emergency. I am sure he will be back any second. I am fine."

Then it hits me. Pride. We caught her at a vulnerable moment, one that's embarrassing for her. She is alone, but will not let us save her. We have to word it differently, so it doesn't sound like she is a stray cat we are taking home.

I sigh. I hope Mia is not this complicated to handle when she is older.

“Okay, Raven, no worries," I say nonchalantly. "I know you have a lot to do. If you can't stay the night, then at least come by for a piece of cake. We have a whole chocolate fudge cake. I was going to bribe these two with a slice, in exchange for cleaning their rooms." I hope she takes the bait.

Raven smiles at me, with another unreadable expression. I don't know if she is excited about the cake, or if she realizes I am putting on a ruse to let her save face. Or maybe she is relieved about not being alone.

"Nom nom nom. Cake! I can't say no to that. Let's go."

I smirk, as the three of them head out the door. I close the door shut behind me, and can't help the feeling of disappointment. Uncle John, my savior, is no more the hero of this story than my mother.

CHAPTER 2

June 2nd, 2012

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Milo

“Go upstairs!” I use my stern voice, hoping it reflects my serious tone.

I seldom go out on the weekends. Dad’s hospital shifts are seven on and five off. Which means, he works seven days in a row for twelve hours a day. Then he gets five days off. During his days off, he will often moonlight and pick up extra shifts.

Hence, I rarely ever leave the house at night to go to a party. Dad feels bad for me that I regularly miss all social activities; friends’ birthdays, homecomings, Friday night hangs, or even just going to a movie. I don’t want to be an antisocial loner creep. But I can’t leave my siblings alone at home. I used to try to have the nanny stay over on the weekends, but Mia’s tantrums put a stop to that.

So Dad lets me use the split level downstairs to throw house parties. As long as I am responsible, he has never given me a hard time about them. Not like I’d be anything but responsible, especially with my siblings sleeping two floors up.

These parties have gained quite a reputation, attracting even college students. The split level downstairs is soundproof. It’s large and has a cool retro vibe. Plus, I have a never-ending supply of liquor.

We have a housekeeper, Maria, who comes by once a week. Dad gives Maria a stipend for weekly grocery shopping. One of the requirements is to ensure the liquor cabinets are full. The upstairs liquor cabinet has a lock, so Maria stocks it with the expensive stuff. The downstairs bar gets the cheap shit. But it’s free, so no one really cares.

Couple that with some absentee parents, and this house is a party sanctuary.

Nonetheless, I always schedule the parties to take place after Mia’s bedtime and put two strict rules in place. Don’t go upstairs and follow all my rules regarding my family, which includes not allowing my siblings to attend these parties.

Which is why I am annoyed that Reid is standing here, demanding entry. I made sure to tuck Mia in before everyone came over. When I last checked on Reid, he was also getting ready for bed.

I just wanted to throw back a few drinks and relax with people my own age. I am not going to expose my little brother to that. I am aware that kids in New York start drinking young. Hell! I started drinking at his age.

But guess what? Parents are hypocrites. Parents do not want you to make their mistakes. And I am basically a parent for Reid and Mia.

Plus, when I was his age, I never put myself in unnecessary risky situations because my siblings relied on me. I drank, I had sex, but safety was always my number one concern. I was never out of control and did everything in moderation.

I don’t see the same maturity in Reid. I often see it in Raven. I trust her. I trust her more than the adults in our lives. She thinks past herself. She reflects on how her behavior will affect her loved ones and acts accordingly. Reid has not quite developed that same state of mind.

Maybe he will, in a couple of years. And when he does, I rather that he drinks under my supervision. I won’t deny him entrance to these parties forever. But I will deny it tonight.

“The answer is hell no,” I snarl. “ Go upstairs.”

“You are such a fucking hypocrite.”

“Reid, what the hell is the matter with you? You are too young for this shit.”

“You were my age when you started drinking. You are living it up here and keeping us locked upstairs. You leave us with her while you screw around. Fuck you, Milo! Go choke on a dick.” Reid stomps upstairs.

His comments hit home. I feel like a piece of shit. I am fucking up with him. I can feel it.

Having lost all my energy to entertain, I walk outside to get some fresh air. Suddenly, I feel my chest squeezing tight. I try to take deep breaths. How can a stupid fight between brothers cut me so deep?

I used to think dad was leaving me with her, every time he walked out of the house. Now I understand how hard he works to provide for us, send us to private school, secure us a future. After all, money doesn’t grow on trees. I hope Reid comes to the same conclusion about me.

Dad is doing the best he can. And I am doing the best I can. Parents are not perfect, and being a parent doesn’t absolve you of your flaws.

Reaching the sidewalk, I spot a mass of long jet black hair. Raven!

She is sitting on the steps outside of her brownstone. I immediately feel calm, and my chest is not so hollow anymore.

I have gotten to know Raven really well over the past year. She has become a part of our family. She is young but shockingly mature for her age. At this point, I consider her a really good friend of mine. She is poised, classy, and well put together. She is the kind of person who has a calming effect on everyone. I have even seen her have that effect on my mom. Not to mention, she is incredibly beautiful.

I constantly have to remind myself not to even think shit like that. I am seventeen, just a few months shy of eighteen, and about to start college. She is fourteen about to enter her freshman year in High School. Plus, she is Reid’s best friend. So I force myself not to look too deeply into her physical beauty.

Which is fine, because the best part about her is actually her words. She has a way with words, always articulate yet humorous. Exactly what I need right now.

“Hi, Rave.”

Raven spots me and gives me her megawatt smile. Despite how much I chide myself, my heart stops.

“Hey there. Did the party end early?”

“Naa, it’s still going on. What are you doing outside by yourself?”

“Just needed some air.”

I have a feeling that means Uncle John did not come home again. Raven is sitting outside, waiting for him. I am shocked that Raven still craves his love. He has been treating his only daughter like dirt since her mother left. Love has made a monster out of that man, who was once my hero.

Raven does not harbor any hard feelings towards her mother or father. She talks to her mother on the phone. She told me she was happy her mother pursued her dreams. I have to shake my head at her perspective on life.

The more Raven acts like she understood Theressa’s decision, the more Theressa drowns in guilt over leaving her daughter. She has been showering her daughter with gifts. At least once a month, Raven gets shipments of designer clothing and shoes. Raven’s tact is effective, even though she doesn’t know it.

When you attack someone, they become defensive. It’s easier for them to defend their bad behavior. When you act with class and poise, they can’t deflect their anger on you. They have no choice but to acknowledge their own shitty behavior. It’s the best way to make someone feel ashamed. I have learned a lot from Raven.

The only negative from the situation is the clothes her mother keeps sending her. Her mother demands photos of Raven wearing these clothes.

Since her private school requires uniforms, Raven’s only opportunity to wear them is around us. I don’t know if her mother realizes, but those outfits make her fourteen-year-old daughter look like an eighteen-year-old model. They give me mini heart attacks, further making my denial about Raven’s physical attributes that much more difficult. I have made it a point to include Raven in all of our family outings. And more than once, during our outings, Reid and I had to threaten to murder men with leering eyes or groping hands.

I sit down next to Raven on the steps. We sit together in comfortable silence for a little while. Raven puts her head on my shoulder like she often does. After a beat, I ask her an unsettling question.

“When was the last time you saw Uncle John?”

Raven doesn’t say anything.

Another odd fact hits me. “Rave, why are all the lights off in your house?”

She is still quiet.

“Rave…”

“Milo… don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry about it.”

“It’s not a big deal. Dad made a mistake with the electricity bill. They shut it off.”

“What the hell!” I yell out immediately. “When did this happen?” I am furious, and she looks too fucking calm for my comfort.

“Milo, he is going through something. And it’s not that big of a deal. It’s been great weather lately. It’s not too hot. If there was a time for dad to slip up, thank God it was now.”

She tries to smile it off. Is she seriously making a joke right now?

I know Raven’s not a pushover. She won’t let anyone talk down to her. Reid, with all of his hot temper, is the only one who tries. Raven usually says something to the effect of:

If you are not in the mindset to have a sensible conversation with me, I am going to excuse myself from this situation. Feel free to call me when you are in control of your emotions, and we can have a mature discussion on how to resolve this argument.

Can you believe that shit comes out of a fourteen-year-old’s mouth? Reid gets dumbstruck, and I usually have to reel in a snort. So why is she not standing up to Uncle John?

Right now, I need a reaction from her. A normal reaction to her abnormal father. I will take any reaction other than her nonchalant act.

I take a deep breath. I have to approach this with caution. Raven is all about being rational and seeing things from the other person’s perspective. That’s how I have to approach it if I want to get through to her. I have never had to put this much effort when speaking to any other female. Somehow, this fourteen-year-old always keeps me on my toes.

“Okay. Let’s pass off the electric bill fiasco as a fluke,” I start cautiously. “However, do you believe that Uncle John is currently upholding his duties to you, as your father? Yes, he is going through a tough time. Yes, he lost the only woman he has ever loved. But he also has an obligation to you.”

I remind myself that she is fourteen and a girl. This conversation might make her cry. On the other hand, if she is as mature as I peg her to be, she might reflect on my words and really listen to my advice.

I continue. “We all go through tough times. It’s part of life. It’s alright to mourn any loss for a reasonable amount of time. But if it’s at the expense of everything you value, when does it stop being a mourning period and become a lifestyle you lead?”

I pause, letting that sink in. Raven doesn’t waiver, not giving anything away with her expressions.

“If he doesn’t know his behavior is affecting you negatively, he will not change,” I say as softly as I can.

Raven listens to my whole spiel without interrupting. When she is sure I am done, she speaks slowly. “He does know. I approached him twice about this.”

This is news to me. “He does?”

“You know, as well as I do, you cannot force anyone into something they are not ready for. Our discussions only made him more uncomfortable and embarrassed. The first time I approached him was when mom left. He was being reclusive and detached. I told him I needed him to step up as my father. He agreed, and it lasted about a week. It was like pulling teeth. Finally, he stopped trying. And he stopped wanting to be around me. My best guess? He was drowning in self-pity and couldn’t face the disappointment in my eyes. That’s when we decided to move to New York.”

“I thought Uncle John moved because my dad asked him to.” I am awed at all this new information.

“That was part of it. Once we moved here, I told him I needed him to do better. He tried his best. Then I caught him talking to Doctors Without Borders, about a possible assignment. It became clear to me. He needs to get away from here. I am a constant reminder of my mother, and my expectations are not making it better. Each time he is not able to meet them, he sinks further into self-loathing. Nowadays, he has been leaving the house before I wake up, coming home after I go to sleep. The few times I see him, he wears a look of guilt. It’s like, he knows he is not doing right by me, but doesn’t have the energy or the will power to change. So he avoids me.”

I open my mouth to voice some follow up questions. Raven speaks before I can ask.

“He still goes to work. He just avoids me. And on various occasions, he forgets bills and responsibilities. The way I see it, I still have a roof over my head, and all of my best friends live next door. You guys have become my family. Maybe down the road, dad will realize what he is doing is not fair to me. As it stands, the more I discuss unwanted things with him, the more he will pull away from me. Right now, he doesn’t know how to be my father.”

I am quiet. What do you say to that? I stay quiet for so long that Raven finally bumps my shoulder. I sigh.

“Lord help the boy you end up with. He will never win an argument. Most likely, he won’t even know that he lost the argument.”

Raven laughs and cocks her head, as her dark hair spills over her shoulder. I have already made up my mind about how I am going to approach this. Raven is not easily susceptible to ideas that wound her pride. So I will have to use logic again, to make my case. No matter what, she is going to accept my offer.

“Look, Rave, you make some good points. Now I want to make a point of my own. By your own admission, you are telling me that Uncle John is currently an unfit parent. He is lost and not mentally capable of the responsibilities of a parent.” I pause to see if Raven will argue.

Raven doesn’t interrupt. She is listening intently to my argument.

“We also have an absentee parent. So dad and I pick up the slack. There is no one here to pick up the slack. While I believe in your abilities, I am uncomfortable with the idea of you living in this house. What if an intruder comes in? If your phone is dead due to electricity loss, and your dad is not here, what do you plan to do?”

I let my terrifying thoughts sink in. My own stomach drops at the idea. “I’d like for you to move in with us. At least temporarily. We love it when you stay over. Reid has all but physically already moved you in. He has covered our guest room with your pictures and personal items. Whenever we have guests, Reid lets them know that they are staying in Raven’s room, and not the guest room.”

I lean back on the step casually. I don’t want to come off too strong, but my heart is beating really fast. What if she rejects my idea?

I make my closing statement. “To me, it makes logical sense. You said you live next door to your best friends, who have become your family. If the situation was reversed, you would want us to come stay with you, would you not? If we refused, it would be indicative that we are not as close as we say we are. If we really are family, then this is a no brainer. Still, if you are uncomfortable with the idea, see it as a temporary arrangement until your father sorts out his shit.”

I have to take a deep breath, after spitting all that out. I can’t even imagine Raven staying in this house, not after everything she disclosed. She is coming back with me. It’s not a choice. But I will give her a chance to respond.

-----------

Raven

Milo is waiting for a response. If I know him at all, he is not waiting for me to say yes. This is happening, no matter what I say. He is just waiting for me to acknowledge it.

All of his protective instincts are out. I have seen Milo like this before when he is being protective of Reid and Mia. When he is this determined, no one can get in his way. Not his parents, not the world, not even God himself.

“Let’s go inside, and I can pack a bag,” I say quietly. “I will come back tomorrow for the rest. Is Reid still up?”

“He is, but I don’t think he is talking to me right now.” Milo looks exasperated, at the mention of Reid’s name.

I feel for Milo. Reid has become very difficult and hot-headed. Reid is loyal, and he will lay his life on the line for his loved ones. But he is rough around the edges.

When I lived in Boston, it seemed like Reid idolized Milo. Now that I am living closer to them, I see that Reid actually holds an unfair amount of resentment towards Milo. I get it. Milo is a pseudo parental figure for Reid and Mia. Hell, he is a pseudo parental figure for me too. But Mia and I idolize Milo.

Reid idolizes Milo as well, but he fights Milo every step of the way. I am not allowed to point it out or take Milo’s side. Reid gets really angry if I do. That’s a sore spot for him.

The problem is, Reid is the one at fault. At most, Milo disciplines Reid for poor behavior. Whereas, Reid spews harsh and hateful words to Milo, which makes me cringe. Reid doesn’t know how good he has it.

Milo and I walk inside the house. My phone is already dead. So Milo uses his phone light to find his way around. I grab a backpack and pack some toiletries. I also pack a duffel bag with some essentials for tonight.

When Milo isn’t looking, I pull out my special box from under my bed and slip it in my bag. It has my most prized collections, and I’d rather take it with me.

Ever since I moved to New York, I often stay over at the Sinclair home. And every time I do, Milo packs me lunch for school. Just as he does for his siblings, he includes a handwritten note with my lunches.

The first time I saw a note, my heart melted.

Apple a day keeps the doctor away. Have an awesome day, Rave!

It was basic, encouraging me to get my fruits in for the day. But I never got a lunch note before. My mom and dad always gave me money for lunch.

So I saved the note. And I prayed for another one. My wish was granted, every time I stayed over. More packed lunches, along with handwritten notes.

I am going to keep packing this same apple with your lunch, till you eat it.

And he did.

Enjoy your lunch, because Reid is cooking dinner tonight.

Reid loves to be creative in the kitchen. Every time a new season of Masterchef comes out, he forces us to a home-cooked dinner, to try his newest creation. He is a terrible cook.

I ran out of peanut butter. This is a Jam & Jam sandwich. Here is $5 for a better lunch.

The Jam and Jam sandwich was actually delicious.

I never asked. Did your parents name you Raven because you have jet black raven hair?

Yes, they did.

Why didn’t they name you Snow White? You look more like Snow White than a Raven.

My mother tried. Dad, thankfully, put a stop to it.

I saved all of those notes in my special box. I barely have any handwritten memorabilia from my own parents, except for some birthday cards. These notes mean so much more to me than those generic birthday cards. I am addicted to them.

Sadly, Milo informed Reid and me that once we start high school this year, he is not going to pack our lunches anymore. We are being enrolled in school cafeteria lunches. So I tried to collect as many lunch notes as possible by the end of the school year.

As much as I crave those little notes, I make a point not to overstay my welcome. If I stay there two days in a row, I grudgingly scoot back to my empty house by the third day. I hate it.

Which is why I will never forget this moment. I will always be grateful for what Milo is doing for me right now and pray that someday I can repay him.

I secretly vow to myself that I will do anything to decrease Milo’s stress. I will not disappoint him, let him down, or regret letting me move in. I will make him proud.

I chant all of these mantras in my head as we step out together. I have my backpack, and Milo is carrying my duffle bag.

Today I am moving in with the Sinclairs. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t forced into someone’s path. Someone volunteered to take care of me because they loved me enough.

CHAPTER 3

October 10th, 2013

-----------

Raven

I have been cleaning Tessa's room for hours now. The room is a disgusting mess with trash, litter, and clothing everywhere.

It's been a little over a year since I moved in with the Sinclairs. Shortly after I moved in, dad announced that he was going back to Africa to work for Doctors Without Borders. He didn't make eye contact with me when he broke the news.

Before dad accepted the assignment, he had a long conversation with Milo. Dad made Milo swear to look out for me, the same way he did for Reid and Mia. He also asked Milo's parents, Reese and Tessa Sinclair, to become my legal guardians.

A little while after dad left, Uncle Reese also got a job offer. He got an offer as a visiting specialist at a hospital in the Cayman Islands. The pay would be significantly more, and he would work half as many hours. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Uncle Reese spoke to Milo before making any decisions. In the end, it was decided that Uncle Reese would take the position, and Milo would become my legal guardian, since he was eighteen. Uncle Reese loves me like I am his own daughter, and he knows it's useless to have Tessa be my sole guardian.

So here we are. Dad is away, working for Doctors Without Borders. Uncle Reese is also away, working at Grand Cayman as a visiting physician.

As always, Milo is the only one present. He is currently going to Columbia University, and he’s officially my legal guardian. Tessa is also here, but she’s not really present, which means Milo is unofficially the legal guardians for Reid and Mia as well.

Nonetheless, Uncle Reese wouldn't allow Milo to miss out on any more college experiences than he needs to. So Milo stays on campus three days a week. And he stays with us for the other four days. The nanny stays here the three days that Milo is gone or anytime Milo is indisposed.

It was hell on earth, convincing Mia to let the nanny stay for three days a week. In the end, I think she has a soft spot for me. She gave in once I used all of my persuasive skill sets.

Personally, I think Uncle Reese was happy to have an escape away from his wife. Looking at this room, I can't exactly blame him. It's depressing. Tessa has become worse than before, staying in bed for days on end.

This makes me feel even more guilty for forcing the responsibilities of being my guardian onto Milo. He already has Mia and Reid to worry about. Plus, attending Columbia is not easy. He deserves the chance to enjoy his time in college. I know, I have a happy home and life at Milo's expense. So I try to help as much as I can.

I whip my head towards the door, as I hear it creak. Reid's face pops in. Tessa is lying on the bed, facing away from him.

"How‌ ‌is‌ ‌it‌ ‌going‌ ‌in‌ ‌here?"‌

"Same‌ ‌old,"‌ ‌I‌ ‌shrug.‌ ‌ ‌

The room looks a lot better, after I have been cleaning it all morning. I try not to divulge about how bad it actually gets in Tessa's room. I know Reid gets irritated at Tessa. And the last thing I want is to create conflict in the Sinclair home.

Milo, Mia and Reid Sinclair have become my constants in the last few years. And I need them to be in harmony, for my own sanity.

I share a unique connection with each of them, but I love each of them differently. And I love all of them, more‌ ‌than‌ ‌I‌ ‌love‌ ‌myself.‌ ‌

My connection to Reid is a spiritual one. I can't explain it. He is my best friend but he is also my soulmate. Not the romantic kind, but our souls are tethered  to each other.

Growing up, our friends, kids in school, even our parents wondered if there was a romantic connection. The answer is simply No.

But, we were born on the same day, the same year, to parents who were also inseparable best friends. Our connection is cosmic, not romantic.

When‌ ‌my‌ ‌mom‌ ‌left,‌ ‌Reid‌ ‌begged‌ ‌his‌ ‌dad‌ ‌to‌ ‌take‌ ‌him‌ ‌to‌ ‌Boston.‌ ‌When‌ ‌his‌ ‌dad‌ ‌couldn't‌ ‌get‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌work,‌ ‌he‌ ‌convinced‌ ‌Milo ‌to‌ ‌let‌ ‌him‌ ‌take‌ ‌the‌ ‌Amtrak‌ ‌alone.‌ ‌

I‌ ‌didn't‌ ‌even‌ have to ‌ask.

Similarly, when Reid started to realize that Tessa is fucked in the head, he never had to explain himself to me. I could feel his mood shift, and I'd just lean against him to telepathically communicate, Do you want me here to do you want to be alone?

He'd give me telepathic responses back. I‌ ‌know‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌wants‌ ‌me‌ ‌to‌ ‌comfort‌ ‌him,‌ ‌and‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌wants‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌left‌ ‌alone.‌ ‌Sometimes silent tears would ‌seep‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌him, and I'd just hold him. ‌No words ever needed to be exchanged between us.

That's how connected our souls are. It's much more powerful than romantic love. Romantic love is fleeting but Reid will always be mine. The love we have for each other is unparalleled. I know I can live without my mother or my father. But I cannot live a happy life without Reid in it. Without him, I'd be missing half my soul.

Reid is staring at me, our telepathic connection kicking in. He is silently asking, Do you think she is going to get up today?

Tessa's moods come and go. There are days when she is lucid. But lately, she has been retreating. Days go by without Tessa coming out of the room. Occasionally, I will bring her a sandwich and leave it on the nightstand. They are often untouched or barely nibbled on. Once in a while, I can trick her into taking a shower. Today is one of her harder days.

It doesn't seem like it. I shake my head with my own silent response.

He frowns and then rolls his eyes. Out of everyone, Reid has the least patience with Tessa. Reid is hot-tempered and gets easily annoyed, especially at Tessa. Years of resentment have severed any ties between him and Tessa.

As he is about to walk out, I see another tiny little head poke in. My whole face lights up.

There she is, my little angel. Mia is my sunshine. When we were younger, she started tagging along with Reid on his visits to Boston. She quickly became my own sister, a little doll for me to love and adore.

She is four years younger than us but refuses to be treated as such. She makes me put makeup on her and begs me to let her try on my heels. She looks so darn cute, with her little feet barely filling my shoes.

Growing up in a household filled with boys, she was ecstatic when I moved in. Even now, she follows me around, asking me all sorts of "girl" questions. She is a force to be reckoned with.

I can be in the worst mood, but she will relentlessly talk to me till I give in and start hugging the crap out of her. Mia's optimism in life makes it bearable for cynics like me.

Tessa has struggled throughout Mia's life. At least Reid and Milo got to experience Tessa's love before her mental illnesses took hold. Mia never had that experience.

Still, Mia loves her fiercely. She is capable of unconditional love. I crave that love from her. My relationship with my parents deteriorated so fast, I didn't have a chance to identify the difference. Parents are supposed to love you unconditionally. But mine loved me with conditions.

Mia's love is not like that. The people she loves, she loves with all her might. After Milo, she loves me the most in the world. Her little face lights up every time I walk by, and my chest swells with pride. Pride that I can get a human being to look at me, the way she looks at me.

It's the same way I look at Milo. Like he is the sun itself, the light at the end of my dark tunnel; my hero, my idol, my savior.

"Rave! Can we watch the movie now?" Mia whines.

"Yes, ma'am. Let's do it." I put the trash I collected in one of the black garbage bags. I drag the trash bag out and Reid immediately grabs it. He starts walking down the stairs to put the trash outside.

I smile. That's so Reid. Whenever Milo gives us chores, Reid finds a way out of it or gives him a hard time. Wanting to keep the peace, I volunteer to take care of Reid's chores. Reid immediately steps in and ends up doing all of his chores, along with mine. He acts difficult, but he is such a marshmallow.

Reid is Milo's "problem child." I think that's why Milo loves having me around. Reid's loyalty to me makes life easier for Milo. And I am always eager to make life easier for the Sinclairs. To be more specific, I am always eager to make Milo Sinclair's life easier.

Milo! Just the thought of him brings a smile to my face. He is coming home tonight. It's only been a few days, but I miss him like crazy. Officially, Milo lives in his dorms. Unofficially, he really lives at home with us.

We sit back on the couch and prop our feet up on the coffee table. This is our common position during movie nights. We turn on the movie. The coffee table in front of us is full of take-outs, popcorn, and candy.

Milo does not approve of Mia eating candy at night. I have to negotiate portion control with her. Usually I devour all the candy, so Mia doesn't stand a chance at eating too much of it anyways. If there are sweets in my vicinity, I have to stuff my face with it. Thank God I take dance classes. If I didn't dance so much, I'd be five hundred pounds.

Mia cuddles up to me as Reid throws an arm around me. I lean back and grab a candy bar. I am so freaking content. I love our little family and all our traditions. A lot of my girlfriends also wished they had my "little family" and my living arrangements. But for a very different reason.

Most of my friends swoon over Reid and Milo. Last summer, Reid joined Milo on his dedicated gym routine. He gained at least twenty pounds of muscle within the year. And the girls noticed.

Before we finished freshman year of high school, Reid had only ever kissed one girl. Now, he has a rotation of girls coming in and out of the house. I catch him making out with a different girl every week.

It actually works out really well for me. It's an easy way for me to make friends with more girls. And they are all eager to be my friend, to be on Reid's good side.

I think it's amusing. Milo doesn't think so. He is uncomfortable with Reid's new-found popularity. Milo gave him the sex talk and suggested that he wait to have sex. Reid was pissed. He started yelling, calling Milo a hypocrite.

Reid's not exactly wrong in his assessment.

After we turned fifteen, Milo allowed us to start attending his infamous parties, thrown in the bottom floor of this house. He didn't want to fight with Reid anymore, and he trusted me to keep him in check.

We made friends with a variety of people, including some of our family friends and Milo's college friends.

Through the grapevine, we found out that Milo was only fourteen when he lost his virginity. It also became clear that Milo has a very active sex life. I overheard a few girls talk about his lickable six-pack and fuckable dick.

Too Much Information!

I did not need to know that. Yes, Milo is good looking. He is more than good looking, if I am being objective. With his shark cheekbones, strong jaw, dark hair, green emerald eyes, and a tall athletic build, Milo can turn heads. He is also a really good dresser. Girls swoon all over him. As a result, his sex life started young.

However, Milo still tried to reason with Reid. He begged Reid to wait till he at least liked one girl enough to make safe choices with. He didn't want Reid to make the same "mistakes." Milo tried to explain that when he was growing up, he didn't have an active adult in his life, someone to give him better advice or to tell him to wait to have sex.

To me, all of that made sense. Reid was not so understanding. I swear, nowadays, that boy is always angry. Thank God he has a beautiful face to fall back on.

Both the Sinclair boys are easy on the eyes. I never allow myself to think past that. To me, they are my brothers. But the other girls don't see it that way. Milo's "groupies," as I call them, used to give me the stank eye every time I came around. It took them months to realize that I am basically his little sister.

The moment they realized that, just like Reid's "groupies," they wanted to become best friends with me. They bombarded me with questions about Milo, begging me for information that will give them an in. A lot of them have already been with Milo, several times. But they wanted more, something of a girlfriend status, and wondered how to make that happen.

I get the appeal of wanting a deeper connection with Milo. If there was a Milo fan club, I would be the super obsessed president. I have been all my life.

While I was growing up, Milo was a phantom superhero for me. Mia and Reid idolized him. So did my dad. Dad boasted of all the wonderful things Milo did. He talked about how lucky the Sinclairs were to have a golden boy like Milo. An academically gifted teenager who took care of his mom, siblings, and household.

Even before I met him, I knew I'd be his groupie. After I met him, it was a whole different ball game. Our first meeting alone made me believe that this man was a saint.

I was only thirteen and had just moved to New York. Milo, Mia, and Reid came over to welcome us. A few minutes after they came over, dad abruptly left the house without giving any notice to our guests or me. Well, Milo noticed!

I was mortified by dad's behavior. Milo didn't even blink and demanded that I go back with them. I was terrified of staying alone at the new house, in a new city. But I was too proud to accept his offer. He caught me in an embarrassing moment. And the pity in his face was more than what I could bear.

Somehow, Milo figured out the reason for my reservations. And he reworded his offer in such a way that didn't make me feel like a charity case. He asked me to come over for dessert and allowed the natural progression of a slumber party to take place.

Ever since then, the Sinclair house became my second home, and finally, my permanent home. And Milo became a third parent for me. I idolize that man. Since the first night we met, he has been saving me from my loneliness. He gave me my whole world.

He is the one who attends all of my PTA meetings and meets with my guidance counselor. He is the one who signs my permission slips and writes the checks for my field trips. He never acts like it's an inconvenience. If he does harbor any resentment towards me, he never lets it show.

To me, he is the epitome of what's right. He is responsible, a good friend, a protector, a self-sacrificing man of honor, and, not to mention, he is brilliant. He is the most perfect human being I have ever met. I strive to be him.

So yes, saying that I understand the appeal is putting it mildly. I understand the appeal for Milo, the person. I get the attraction to want an emotional connection with him. I just don't get the appeal for the romantic aspect.

Personally, I chase a different type of love from Milo. Every time I excel in any aspect of life, I make a point to tell Milo all about it. I have an incessant need for Milo's attention. I know that my extreme idolization of him stems from my own parental issues to feel validated by an authoritative figure. I am self-aware enough to admit that.

That said, I don't understand the romantic appeal with Milo. To me, if you are searching for love, romantic love is not the way to go. All the marriages in my immediate vicinity are indicative of destruction. However, all the friendships in my life are indicative of true love. Romantic love is conditional. But friendship and familial bonds are unconditional.

Other girls don't believe the words I spew out. I wish I craved romance, to experience what they must feel.

I did, however, have one romantic interest this past summer. It wasn't exactly the way these girls described their feelings for Milo. But it was good enough for me.

Reid had been bugging me for months to experiment. We do everything together and decided that we both wanted to experience our first kisses by the end of freshman year. As our freshman year was wrapping up, I still hadn’t met any exciting prospects.

Finally, at one of Milo's parties, I met Asher Huntzberger. Asher is a family friend of the Sinclairs. He goes to college with Milo and has a quick wit about him. He is handsome, with dark hair, sharp looks, and a tall, built body.

When we met, he was Milo's age, and I had just turned fifteen. But thanks to the outfits my mother sends me, everyone assumed I was at least seventeen.

I never lied about my age. But he never asked either. I only figured out Asher's age because Milo mentioned they were the same year in Columbia.

Anyway, we hit it off and ended up making out right before the end of my freshman year. We continued to hook up a few times throughout the summer. I never took it further than kissing. We were discreet. I know how protective Milo is.

Asher did ask me out a few times. But he never piqued my interest further than experiencing my first kiss and becoming good at it. It was an experiment. And for all intents and purposes, it was a successful one. I didn't need to take it further.

Suddenly, Mia hops up from our comfortable sitting position. She has spotted Milo, walking purposefully towards the front door. I see him as well, through the wall to floor windows of the living room. I excitedly stand up to greet Milo.

-----------

Milo

Before I can open the door, Raven and Mia are already up from the sofa, ready to greet me. My favorite girls in the world.

I try to act annoyed, as Mia hugs me so hard that I almost tip back. She is infectious.

"What's up, little one?"

"I am not so little anymore." Mia pouts. And I pout back. So she starts to grin.

And then there is her. She is smiling that smile at me. The one where she thinks I am her entire world. I hate it. I love it.

She leans in with a hand on my shoulder to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. Soft, such soft lips. How does she keep them so soft?

I almost gasp as a zing shoots through my body, and my heartbeat picks up. I hold my breath until she moves back. The kiss was too long. The kiss was too short. Her lips are too much. I immediately miss her lips. As always, Raven is a walking contradiction for me.

What is wrong with me? Raven is fifteen, a sophomore in high school. I am a month away from turning nineteen and a sophomore in college. She is too young for my wayward thoughts. Not to mention, Reid thinks Raven belongs to him.

They grew up relying on each other. They were each other's escape from their shit parents, which sucks, because now Raven is my escape from my shit life. I need her too. But Reid wouldn't see it that way. He already goes ballistic when Raven takes my side during arguments.

I turn my attention to Reid, who is scowling at me. Great, what did I do this time? I have barely walked in. How could I have already ruined the great Reid Sinclair's mood?

"You are late," he shoots out.

"Sorry man, there was a lot of traffic. Did you guys start the movie?"

"We are almost done. You missed it."

"No, you did not," Raven pipes in. “God, Reid! You are such a drama queen."

The girl melts my heart. She always has my back, making everything in my life a little better.

Mia gets impatient. "Let's go! Movie!" She is turning into such a brat.

We head back to the living room. Mia throws herself on the rug, stretching out on her stomach, in front of the TV. I put my backpack down and plop down on one side of the sofa. Raven sits down next to me.

My heart stops as soon as her scent hits me. That vanilla smell, so familiar and so Raven. It's barely there, which makes it that much more intoxicating.

I want to smell more of it. I lean in to take a deep breath to catch that intoxicating smell again.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I straighten and stare into the TV. From the corner of my eyes, I see Reid tugging Raven closer to him, towards his end of the sofa. A pang of jealousy overtakes me.

I am not worried about a romantic connection between them. Once Reid started parading around his bevy of girls, I watched for Raven's reaction. At most, Raven seemed amused. She ended up becoming friends with most of them and is usually his wing woman. Even Raven couldn't act that aloof if it wasn't her truth. It was a relief.

Still, I am jealous. Reid has this natural connection with Raven that I crave. He can cuddle with her, walk hand in hand with her. It's always been like that, ever since they were babies. Their connection is easy. There is no sexual tension, so they are just physically comfortable.

It kills me.

Raven talks about how their souls are connected, in the way two codependent damaged adolescents are connected to each other. But my soul is connected to her in a more profound way. In the last couple of years, Raven has been the only person I can seek solace in. She is my confidant.

Whenever I stay at the house, Raven will often come to my room. She'll plop herself down on my bed, and we will talk for hours about everything under the sun.

She talks a lot about her mom. Theressa has been a better mother in the last few months. Like Uncle John, Theressa is also overtly expressive to me, about her gratitude for "taking Raven in." I am not her biggest fan. I am polite enough because I know she is trying. She has been diligent about paying her portion of Raven's school tuition. She also sends me monthly checks to cover any other expenses.

I don't touch them. I opened a savings account in Raven's name, so she can have some extra cash when she goes to college. Raven shares her mother's love for designer clothing and wants to attend FIT, Fashion Institute of Technology. She draws sketches for clothes. They are all unique, just like Raven. She shows me her designs and talks about the innovative materials she plans to use.

She also tells me about the different dance classes she is taking. With the amount of candy that the girl eats, I think dancing is the only reason she isn’t five hundred pounds. Not that it matters. Raven is so gorgeous, even fatness couldn't suppress her fierce beauty.

In turn, I talk to her about my shit life. I talk about the panic attacks I started experiencing a few years ago. Xanax helps, but I hate taking them. They come with the risk of getting addicted. When you have dependents relying on you, every risk needs to be assessed.

I talk about my challenging family. My mom has sunk deeper into depression. We have tried everything; psychiatrists, therapy, antidepressant drugs. All failed attempts. I don't know what to do with her.

Dad works hard to keep us afloat. We have more money coming in now, with his new visiting doctor position at the Cayman Islands. It was hard to watch the life being sucked out of him just to provide for us. The new job is much better.

He asked me before he accepted the position. And he makes it a point to fly back one weekend per month, so he is still present in the household. It was the right decision, but it's so hard not to have him around. I don't have a backup anymore. I didn't expect to become the guardian of my siblings at the age of eighteen. While my siblings are my life, they are difficult.

Reid, in particular, fights me every step of the way. I have found cigarette butts in his room, weed, and on occasion, random girls. His anger is entirely out of control. I have tried and tried, but his rebellious streak is mentally exhausting.

Mia is my light, but she is difficult too. She needs a nanny. Someone who can pick her up from school and take care of her. But she chases away all of her carefully vetted nannies.

On top of taking care of them, I also want to ensure that they are not spoiled rich kids. I have to force them to do chores to earn an allowance, do their homework, set the dinner table, etc. Some days, my schedule is so packed that the idea of waking up the next day and doing it all over again paralyzes me.

When Raven came into my life, she put it all back together. She put me back together.

It started innocently enough. When she moved in, she'd help me clean up after dinner and casually talk to me about life. Soon, our discussions evolved further than that, and we'd stay up for hours, sharing everything. Pouring our souls out to each other.

When I talk to Raven, she just listens. She never offers advice or hollow sympathies. Instead, she slowly started taking on some of my responsibilities. She would check in on mom, get her to take a shower, clean her room. She convinced Mia to let the nanny stay over, so I could have a normal college life.

She is also the only person who knows how to deal with Reid. She knows when to stand her ground with him and when to leave him alone to stew in his own anger.

She does everything in her power to make my life a little bit easier. To give me some flexibility in my schedule. I look at her, and for the first time in years, I can breathe. Like really breathe. I have been taking care of everyone for so long, I never realized how much I needed someone to take care of me.

I know she has a little crush on me. She always looks at me like I am the only man in the whole world. A lot of our friends suspect the same and tease me about her crush, not expecting that I could possibly reciprocate similar feelings. It’s supposed to be cute. Like when a twelve-year-old has a crush on an adult man. It's so unthinkable; it doesn't cross anyone's mind that it could be real. No one takes it seriously. I try not to take it seriously either, chalking it up to adolescent nonsense. It's getting more difficult to do so with each passing day.

No matter how I feel, I am the older one in this situation. I have to make the tough calls, the responsible decisions. So I restrain myself. I have to. Uncle John will lose all respect for me if I chase after his fifteen-year-old daughter, who is legally my dependent.

So I do the best I can. I don't have the heart to tell her not to come to my room to talk. But I make sure to leave the door open, to ensure her actions are perceived innocently enough. I always try to mask my own expressions and emotions, as to never lead her on.

It's hell.

I keep telling myself that these feelings are fleeting. They will pass. They have to. Our feelings are amplified because our lives are shit. Yet, time barely moves without her. I am always watching the clock. I am drowning in my obsession, waiting for the clock to announce the next minute. Another minute means another moment closer to her.

My biggest hope is that she will get over her feelings for me.

My biggest fear is that she will get over her feelings for me.

Yes, it's all a paradox.

Which is why it's killing me right now, to sit here and not touch her. She is watching the movie, and I can't read her expression. She is a foot away, but it feels like a million miles.

Unable to help myself, I reach over and wrap my hand around her tiny foot. It's tucked in beside her on the couch, close to me. Her head is still on Reid's shoulder, but she twists it to the side to look at me.

I give it a gentle squeeze, and then tickle her feet. She gives me her million-dollar smile. She still sees me. My heart swells, and I know I can take it. I can live another passing moment without her. As long as she showers me with that look, I can take on anything.

CHAPTER 4

May 2nd, 2015

-----------

Raven

I am turning seventeen tonight. We are turning seventeen tonight. Another year. Another joint party.

At midnight, Reid and I will turn seventeen. Milo is throwing us a joint party like he does every year. Everyone is already at the party. A limo has been arranged by Milo, to pick us up for late arrival. We are to make an “entrance.”

I am putting on some finishing touches as we wait for the limo. I am wearing a scandalous two-piece outfit tonight, a Theressa Beckett Special, as we call them. The top is white, and almost resembles a bra. It has thin straps and shows a little bit of cleavage. The skirt begins right below where the top ends. So it only exposes a little bit of my midriff.

It’s tight. Very tight. I am shocked my mother is the one who sends me these kinds of outfits. Maybe Europe is more open-minded.

I straightened my hair for the party tonight. I am wearing a lot of mascara to highlight my eyes. Per usual, I am wearing minimal foundation.

The outfit is completed with some dangle earrings and a pair of high heeled Louboutins.

I spot Reid at the bottom of the stairs as I walk down to join him. Reid’s in a tight button-down shirt with black slacks. He has bulked up so much in the last couple of years. That little boy I knew is now a two hundred pound man.

He is tall like Milo, with a built body. His shirt highlights all of his muscles and pecs. He is freshly showered and shaved. If possible, he looks even better than usual. Girls are always chasing after him. They will probably shit themselves when they see him tonight. I am a lucky girl to have such a good looking escort.

Reid stares at me with an incredulous look as I walk down. I knew this outfit was too much. I laugh as he starts coughing and choking. Is Reid blushing?

He whistles, like the cocky bastard he is. “Damn Rave, you look so fucking hot. I am going to have to kill a lot of handsy dudes tonight when they try to claw at you.”

I laugh again, “Not looking so bad yourself. Should I also threaten the women who look at you with perverse intentions?”

“If it bothers you, then yes. Please do.” He lowers his voice and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Haha… Is the limo here?”

“Ya.”

Reid opens the door for me. He is still staring at me as we walk out.

“Stop it. You are making me self conscious. Fucking Theressa Beckett Specials!”

“I love it. I hope she never stops sending you these. But maybe you should just wear them in the house. Then Milo and I don’t have to fight pervs who eye fuck you.”

I smack his stomach with my purse. His stomach is rock hard. His rigorous gym routine is really paying off.

We slide into the limo and immediately have the driver blast our favorite station. Reid presses the button to close the partition. Pulling out two flasks, he hands me one. We raise our flasks to each other.

“Cheers to us. Happy Fucking Birthday.”

“Happy Fucking Birthday to you!”

We take swigs from the flasks and start moving to the music. We throw our hands up and dance the best we can from a seated position. We sing along to every song.

We are in complete Reid and Raven goofiness mode. Thank God that the partition is closed. Reid and I have terrible voices. No one should have to witness this.

Suddenly, Reid reaches out and puts his hand on my knee. He turns the music down. I look at him and shoot him one of my telepathic questions; What's up?

“Rave… I fucking love you. I love sharing my birthdays with you.”

“Well, I fucking love you too. I hate sharing my birthdays with you. I want the attention all to myself.”

We both throw our heads back and laugh.

“Hey, I have been meaning to talk to you about something.”

I send him another silent question; About what?

“Milo.”

I almost roll my eyes. Milo is a sore topic between us.

I get it. Reid dislikes his brother laying down the law. I see it as a caretaker, who actually cares. Trust me, there are worse things in the world than someone who cares enough to say No.

At this point, we are just at an impasse on this topic.

“Don’t, Reid! He saved all the money Uncle Reese gave him last year for household expenses just so he can throw us this epic party. Can we just have a good time tonight? Please.”

Reid runs his hand down his face. “Jesus, calm down. I am not trying to pick a fight.” Reid sighs, “It’s actually statements like those that I want to talk to you about.”

Reid looks sad, not angry. This is atypical. “Look, I am just gonna say it. You are supposed to be my best friend. But this obsession you have with Milo is a big obstacle in our friendship.”

I don’t like where this is headed. But we have hit some traffic and are moving at a slower pace now. If there are things he wants to talk about, we have all the time in the world. No escape.

Reid continues in his sad voice, “You look at him like he is your whole world. Like he is God. I have felt jealous for years. I still do. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I just lashed out.”

Reid shifts. “Before it was always you and I against the world. We looked out for each other. You looked at me like I was your world. And now… now you only look at Milo that way.”

Okay… I guess I can see that. Fair enough. I silently communicate; Go on.

“Recently, you guys have been so in sync. Like you have an unspoken understanding. It sucks.”

Reid closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Dude, I get it. Everyone loves Milo for taking care of us. I can be angry at him, but even I worship him. He did everything for me. Still does.”

I don’t make a peep. I want to hear all of it.

“But it’s not my fucking fault that my parents forced Milo into the position of a caretaker,” Reid says, with his eyes down and hands wrapped on his lap. “I wasn’t presented with the opportunity to act as your guardian. So I never had the chance to prove myself. It doesn’t mean I am not capable of it. If I had the chance, I could also prove that I can take care of you. You are my best friend. I will always take care of you.”

This is true. Before I moved into the Sinclair home, Reid often forced me to stay over. He would invite me to every family outing because he knew my situation at home.

Our first year in New York, Dad was very forgetful. He’d forget to give me lunch money. If I stayed at their house, Milo would pack me lunch. Otherwise, Reid would buy me lunch. A tray full of food would be waiting for me at my cafeteria table, leaving no room for my reluctance. I know he would do anything for me, just like I would for him.

Have I really been this obsessed with my admiration of Milo to take my best friend’s feelings for granted? Does Reid not know that I also think the world of him?

“You have this weird fixation with parental figures. That’s something I can never be for you. I would if I could. It just sucks to lose your attention, for something I have no control over.”

Reid is articulating this conversation really well. His thoughts are concise and well put together. This spiel is rehearsed. He wasn’t lying. He has been meaning to talk to me for a while. And I think the liquid courage gave him the push he needed.

“Reid… ”

“Let me finish. It might be the tequila talking, but I wanna get it out. You look at Milo with this admiration and respect, just like everyone else. You do everything you can to make him notice you, to make him say that he is proud of you.”

“Anytime something big happens, you call him instead of me,” Reid clears his throat. This is really hard for him. “I hate him for taking you away from me. And I don’t want to hate Milo.”

Reid’s body gives a shake, almost a shudder. I feel like he is gearing up to say something worse. I brace myself.

“To me, these feelings of admiration seem more than platonic. It feels like you are infatuated with him. Anyone observing would likely draw the same conclusion. It’s like you're in love with him. I can’t stomach it.”

And there it is. The heinous thought. I am almost speechless. Almost. “That’s ridiculous! I can’t believe you’d suggest that.” I refuse to let this insinuation pass. “Milo is my legal guardian. He is like a brother to me.”

“And what about me? Am I like a brother to you?”

“Yes!”

Silence.

“I am your Best. Fucking. Friend.” He enunciates each word as if that emphasizes the meaning. “Look, Rave, I hate to pull this card, but you were my friend first. I have been irritated about this for years now. I didn’t know how to address it. I am addressing it now, for my sanity.”

We are both quiet at that proclamation.

“Ever since we were kids, I only had you,” Reid continues. “I can’t talk to any of my other friends. Nor can I talk to my “groupies,” as you call them, about all the shit at home. If I lose you, I won’t have anyone to go to. And every time I see you with Milo, I feel like I am losing you. The whole world loves Milo. Everyone looks at me like the fuck up. I can’t also be the second-best in your eyes. I only ever had your admiration, and he wants to take that away from me as well. I don’t want to hate him, but this jealousy is destroying my relationship with Milo. And it’s fucking with our friendship. I am not asking for much, just put some distance between you two. I am sorry if that’s unfair. But I can’t share you with him. I just can’t. Truth is, I need you more than he needs you.”

I stay quiet. My mind is reeling. Reid doesn’t rush a response out of me. He knows that sometimes I need some time to process thoughts and emotions. I like to analyze and reflect on spoken words before responding.

“You are right. You are absolutely right.” I break the silence with the truth. “I am sorry. I have been a shit friend.”

Reid is right on all accounts. Why didn’t I see this before? Reid has been angry for a while now. It's been getting worse every year, and it’s my fault.

I didn’t understand why Reid was so angry at Milo. Now it all makes sense. I love being Reid’s favorite person in the world. In return, I made Reid feel that Milo is my favorite person in the world.

In my desperation for love from a “father figure,” I left Reid out to dry.

And I ruined their relationship. This insatiable need to please an authoritative figure has taken a sick form inside of me. What is wrong with me?

Milo never expects anything from me. Yet, all I do is try to make him happy. I’d probably walk to Milo’s dorm every day if I thought he’d give me a pat on the back and say, Good girl.

Oh God. Another horrifying realization crosses my mind.

Reid made it sound like I am a lovesick puppy, filled with more than brotherly love and admiration for Milo. I can see why he would make that presumption.

I always trust that Milo knows best. I don’t do anything unless Milo approves of it. And I do everything I can to make Milo happy or proud of me. In my obsession with making Milo happy, I have been acting like some desperate adolescent with an infatuation.

I text him all the time. When he sleeps over at the house, I seek him out, in search of words of encouragement about my accomplishments or academic success.

Even Reid misconstrued my feelings, and he can read me like a book. What must Milo think of me? Oh, God. I must make him so uncomfortable with my “advances.”

I am so ashamed of my behavior. Milo must think I am pathetic, throwing myself at him. I am acting like one of those “groupies” who chase the Sinclair brothers. I am a psycho stalker.

Well, it all stops today. Milo is still my hero. I will always seek his approval.

I can’t change my need for his approval, but I can stop acting so desperate.

Reid is right. I need to put some distance between Milo and I. I need to ration my texts to him. Our phone communication needs to be limited to the subject of chores and responsibilities.

Reid is looking at me tentatively, as I am making all these decisions in my head.

I decide to let him into my thought process. “I seek Milo’s approval because I can’t bear the thought of another guardian leaving me. I do have a parent complex. I want to make him proud like I want to make my parents proud. But you have to trust me, this is about my abandonment issues, rather than any romantic interest.”

Reid silently nudges me to continue. “I did get sidetracked, in my own fucked up head. You are the most important person in the world to me. I am so sorry I made you feel otherwise. Thank you for talking to me. I mean it. I didn’t realize how poorly I was behaving till you explained how my actions might come off. I promise you, I will work on a more appropriate relationship with Milo. You are my other half. I’d never jeopardize that.”

Reid looks visibly relieved. He breaks out in the biggest grin, nearly splitting his face open. “Damn. If I knew it was going to be that easy, I would have told you when we were fourteen. Why do you have to be so mature and understanding all the time? I was looking forward to the fight.”

“If you like, I can still fight you. Let’s call it your birthday present.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you didn’t get me a real gift?”

“You mean you don’t want the present? Fine, I won’t fight you.”

We are both grinning now. Reid grabs one of the flutes from the limo bar and pours me a glass of champagne. He takes my hand and quickly kisses it before handing me a flute.

“So… I am your other half, huh?”

“Well, duh! What are we going to do when we have significant others? Who the hell will deal with our codependency? At this rate, I am going to die a virgin.”

“If you are worried, I can help you take care of that.” That boy is such a flirt when he drinks.

“Please, I don’t need you and all of your STDs to break my hymen.”

“Your hymen will love all my STDs.” Reid winks. “But seriously, Rave, why are you still hanging on to it? Waiting for someone special?”

“Meh. I feel like I am never going to be interested enough to go all the way. I considered going lesbian.”

“You did?” Reid leans up close to me. I almost fall with a fit of giggles. Shit, we are both drunk.

“I totally forgot to tell you. I almost kissed Amy Flinch a couple of years ago, after a house party.”

“No fucking way. What happened?”

We both start laughing at Reid’s ridiculously interested face. We are plastered.

“Honestly, I pulled away at the last minute. I just didn’t feel the chemistry. That’s what it comes down to; science. We are attracted to people because of the smells and pheromones. Attraction is undeniable. We can’t explain it. I just haven’t experienced it.”

“I know what you mean.”

“No, you don’t. You have a rotation of “groupies” coming in and out of our house. Don’t try to empathize with my situation. You don’t fit in with my weirdness.”

“I fit in with all of your weirdness. And a physical act doesn’t mean attraction or chemistry. I don’t necessarily feel the chemistry when I meet a good looking girl. I can objectively say that she is pretty. And I can have a good time hooking up with her. It doesn’t mean I have this raw, carnal attraction to her. Or that I have an unexplainable pull towards her.”

“Okay fine, you know exactly what I mean. Keep that in mind tonight, while you are not feeling chemistry with all of your “groupies” who will be throwing themselves at you.”

Reid grins ear to ear. “Before I forget, here you go. Open it later.” Reid takes out a small box from his jacket pocket and hands it to me.

I knew he got me a gift, even when we said no gifts this year.

Luckily, I never listen to him either. “And here you go.” I surprise him with a box of my own, as I take it out of my purse.

“And here we are!” Reid throws up as his hands, as the limo door opens. We put away our gifts and head inside the party. We are guided to an elevator to take us to the rooftop restaurant.

We walk into a stream of greetings, cheers and Happy Birthdays. All of our friends gather around us to welcome us.

The venue looks fantastic. I take in the vibe as I look around. Milo has gone all out this year. He rented out a section of a fabulous rooftop restaurant. There is a DJ, photo booth, arcade games, and of course, a dessert table.

My heart gives a little pang as I realize Milo did the dessert table just for me. Reid hates sweets.

This is going to be harder than I thought.

-----------

Milo

I have been staring at the entrance, barely responding as people come by to talk to me. I am usually more polite.

Where are they? Where is she?

Raven and Reid’s high school friends are already here. Our family friends are all here. Some of my friends are here too, who have become close to Reid and Raven through our house parties. And thank fuck for that. I’d be blowing my brains out if I had to babysit a room full of teenagers.

Along with hormonal teenagers and raging college students, there is also another attendant, Mia.

Against my better judgment, Raven convinced me to let Mia attend. Mia’s curfew has been extended. And the little devil is milking every second’s worth. Mia is in one of Raven’s outfits, a Theressa Beckett Special. Instead of twelve, she looks like she is fifteen. I hate it.

Mia is overjoyed to be included in one of our parties. She wanted to play the part, so Raven dolled her up. And as a birthday gift to Raven, I am not allowed to say anything.

Leave it to Raven to use her birthday gift on one of us. Well, at least part two of her gift is only for her. I can’t wait to see her face when I give it to her.

Which brings me to, where the hell is she? The limo should have dropped them off by now. Impatience courses through me as I stand there, transfixed on the door. I turn to the bar for another drink, and suddenly I hear everyone cheer and scream out Happy Birthday.

Reid and Raven have arrived.

My eyes immediately land on her. As usual, the first thing I catch is her hair. Her dark, beautiful hair. Bouncing, flowing, and falling. As people shuffle around, I finally see her silhouette. The wind is almost knocked out of me when I see her dress. That dress might as well be painted on her body. It’s so fucking tight, hugging every single one of her curves.

My eyes are locked on her sexy as fuck legs, made even longer by her heels. I lift my eyes to her midriff, which is showing just a little bit of skin. I can’t look away.

I need to. I should not be looking at her like that.

Fucking Theressa Beckett Specials. They leave nothing to the imagination. And right now, mine is running wild.

She is too popular for her own good. She is surrounded by mindless men who are fawning over her. I can almost hear the lewd thoughts of every guy here.

Because I am having the same thoughts. I am a miserable soul, like the rest of them.

I don’t care if I can’t have her. I don’t want them to have her either.

I know. Not the most mature or selfless thoughts. I am not selfless. Everyone looks at me like I am. I wonder what they would think if they knew about the thoughts inside my head. The constant war between wanting her and having to keep my distance.

Suddenly, I want them all gone. They can all drop dead for all I care right now. I pop my jaw and pull my phone out. I need to get her attention away from those fuckers.

Hey bday girl! Come find me after you are done being mauled by the peasants.

Raven’s phone is in her hand. I see it light up from where I’m standing. She looks at it and tenses. She doesn’t unlock her phone or make any attempt to type up a response.

What the hell?

In all the years I have known her, Raven has never failed to respond to me. Usually, she texts me throughout the day. And when I text back, I always get an immediate response.

That’s how I get by when I have an onslaught of panic coursing through me.

Is she mad at me? Did I do something to piss her off? I rack my brain. Raven’s not one to hold a grudge about petty shit.

Maybe I am just over analyzing because I am nervous. She is busy with her friends. She probably thinks it’s easier to saunter over later after she is done hugging the herd of cattle.

Why text back, when she can give me an in-person response? I need to calm down!

I am just nervous as hell about her gift.

The envelope has an itinerary for Paris. Theressa recently left her job. She has gained enough popularity for her own fashion line, so she decided to work for herself. Theressa is currently setting up a new store in Paris. She will be shifting there permanently and will be hosting a fashion show in Paris to launch her new clothing line. It’s a big show, guaranteed to propel Theressa’s career. When I found out, I sent Theressa some of Raven’s designs. She was inspired by one of them, enough to make an outfit. At her show, Theressa will be showcasing one of Raven’s sketches. Raven doesn’t know yet.

Mia will be in Grand Cayman over the summer with my parents. Last year, dad’s offer as a visiting physician was extended. I was fine with dad extending the assignment but realized I couldn't take care of three teenagers and mom. Taking care of mom is a full-time job, and I have to put Reid, Mia, and Raven's wellbeing first. Dad agreed with my assessment and took her to the Cayman Islands with him. Apparently, she has been doing a lot better. The sunshine and water have really vibed with her.

The moment she left, things got significantly better in the house, especially with Raven’s help. I don’t feel overextended, dad can send me a steady source of money to cover all of our expenses plus some more, and all of their grades have been on par. Reid might fight with me, but other than that, no drastic or dramatic teenage rebellion to report. Who knew things would actually be better without our parents around?

Dad still makes a point to fly out every month or every other month to visit. If she can muster up the energy, mom joins him too. During our school vacations, dad flies us all out to the Cayman Islands. Those three absolutely love the water and the change. I love it too because I don’t have to stress about responsibilities while on the island. Dad is really good about taking over.

But this summer, only Mia will be joining them at the Cayman Islands. Reid and I will be joining Raven and Theressa in Paris. Raven doesn’t know any of this yet. Our families have been instructed to keep it all a secret until the fashion show.

I paid extra for a flexible flight ticket. Raven can choose her outbound and return flights. If she wants to, she can leave with Reid and me, which I am guessing will be her preference. But for all that to happen, I have to give her the envelope in my jacket pocket. So why am I still sitting at this stupid restaurant bar, with Raven nowhere in sight?

I crane my neck to search for her.

She has excused herself from the crowd of imbeciles vying for her attention. Instead of finding me, Raven is headed to the dance floor with Reid. She still hasn’t acknowledged me.

This is weird…

Alright, I need to snap out of it and stop being self-absorbed. She is at a party to celebrate her and Reid’s birthday. They should enjoy their night, and I should enjoy it with them. I head to the dance floor to join them.

As soon as I make my way to Raven and Reid, I throw my hands out to hug them both.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you, Milo!” They sing in unison and embrace me with a double hug.

The music on the dance floor is too loud for any more conversation. I can’t assess Raven’s mood any further as we are swarmed by our friends, who have also joined us on the dance floor.

We all dance together in a group, as more guests pile on. The dance floor is now packed.

Reid and Raven sing along as they dance. We all laugh as we watch those two butcher our favorite songs. They are horrendous singers. They get all the lyrics wrong, and they have no tune. I record tons of blackmail videos on my phone, maybe to use at their next party.

Those two dance with everyone, but stay by each other’s side all night long. I feel a similar pang of jealousy, the one I regularly feel when I see their easy connection. I try to brush it off.

Out of nowhere, Reid comes up and throws his arms around me. “Thanks for the awesome party, bro.” He is not looking at me like I am the devil reincarnated.

“Happy Birthday, little bro. Are you happy with the turnout?”

“Are you freaking kidding me? You outdid yourself. Really Milo, thank you! You are the best.”

“Oh, yea! Last week you told me to choke on a dick.”

Reid looks guilty for once and runs his hand through his hair. He has a serious face on. “I… I was pissed about something and… I have been a little shit. I am sorry.”

Reid looks like he just came to a realization. He jumps up on the DJ stage and grabs the mic. He whispers something to the DJ, and the music winds down.

What the hell is going on tonight?

“Hello, friends and family,” Reid’s voice booms from the microphone. “Thank you for coming tonight. Raven and I are having the best night ever!”

Everyone joins in to clap, hoot and cheer.

“For those of you who do not know, my brother Milo threw this party for us.” He points at me. “Yes, that good looking asshole over there.”

More cheers and hoots follow from our guests.

“I just want to take a moment to recognize how wonderful my brother is. He is the best man I know and the best older brother. He will sacrifice everything for us and ask for nothing. Milo is annoyingly patient with me, even though I am a complete asshole who deserves an ass-kicking.”

Reid holds up his fingers and makes a scout’s honor sign. “So… I Reid Sinclair, want to make this solemn oath in front of everyone, that from now on, I shalt be an asshole no more.”

A round of amused laughter from our guests.

Reid raises an imaginary glass. “And I want to raise a glass, to my wonderful sibling. Thank you for all you do and for never giving up on me.”

Our guests raise their glass as well and yell out cheers.

“Now let’s party!” Reid shouts out, and body dives back on the dance floor as the music starts thumping again.

Could that possibly have been a sincere apology and a promise of a better future?

Things have been on and off with Reid. Sometimes I feel like I am walking on eggshells. I can deal with a grumpy teenager, but Reid’s anger is out of control. And it scares Mia. If Mia doesn’t have to witness us fighting anymore, I will take the win.

I turn around to find Raven. Grinning, I go up to her to take her in a hug. She tenses and turns it into a quick hug with a pat on the back. Again, weird.

“Hey, birthday girl.”

“Hey, Milo! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No worries. Are you having fun?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for organizing this. This is wonderful.”

“Of course.”

“Hey, I see a couple of friends I wanted to say hello to. Will you excuse me?”

“Sure.”

“See you around. And thank you again. This really is a wonderful party.”

I am stumped. Did Raven just give me the brush off? She seemed… friendly. She thanked me twice, was perfectly nice and polite. But she wouldn’t make eye contact. Something is off.

My thoughts are interrupted when Reid’s hand hooks around my neck.

“Awesome speech. Should I be flattered or concerned about how much you drank?”

“I meant all of it.” Reid almost whispers. “Things will be different.”

Is today opposite day? Raven is freezing me out, and Reid is treating me to hugs and smiles.

Everyone goes back to dancing. I politely dodge a few females, as they try to dance with me. Not interested. I need a safe distance away from these prying teenage females, who are trying to get frisky with me.

More importantly, I need a drink. So I head back to the restaurant bar.

The bar area is packed with my college friends, including Brandon, Asher, Jaci, and Alexa. All five of us have become very close, as we have been working on launching an iOS app together.

It started as a project for one of our classes. Our professor was very impressed and suggested that we go to networking events to meet investors. He personally invested in our first round of fundraising and invited us to multiple exclusive networking events.

We have met potential investors who are interested in acting as our silent investors. Now the app is in its developmental phase. The release date is set for the summer of next year, which means our senior year will be spent fixing bugs in the app and beta testing.

We discuss our next course of action and exchange our plan of action for the summer. I will be spending a good portion of it in Paris, but I plan to still stay involved via email and calls.

As we talk, I can’t help but watch Raven from the corner of my eyes. Most of the men tonight are watching her as well, unable to tear their leering eyes off her.

When she passes by, I try to engage her in conversation again. She dodges me, like how I dodged her annoying friends. My ego is severely bruised tonight, and I am beyond frustrated.

“Who do you keep looking at from the corner of your eyes?” Alexa tries to follow my gaze.

“No one.”

“Doesn’t seem like no one to me.”

Are all the women in my life trying to annoy me to death tonight?

I smile politely. “Come on, guys. I will buy you a round of shots.”

We start taking shots. And then another round. Soon enough, Alexa gets handsy. Too handsy. We have hooked up in the past, but I’ve always made it clear that I don’t want anything past a friendship.

I haven’t exactly lived a celibate lifestyle. But lately, something is always missing during sex. A release without emotional ties.

I politely decline all of Alexa’s advances. She takes the hint and moves on. Alexa is not a pushy girl. Thank God! This is why we can remain friends.

Still, I remain annoyed throughout the night. By midnight, we are cheering and singing the happy birthday song to Reid and Raven. A little after, I get a text from the limo driver. I asked him to come back after midnight, so I can take Mia home. Moving to the dance floor, I search for the little trouble maker.

“Mia, limo is here.”

“Thank God. Let’s go. My feet are killing me. And I hate this dress. It itches.”

I am shocked. Wearing big girl heels has caught up with Mia. Maybe I don’t mind her wearing heels and dressing up. Not if it’s going to suck some of that extra energy out of her.

“Alright, grab your stuff.”

I look for Raven. I wonder if she wants to come back with us. All the guys have been ogling Raven tonight. In the back of my head, I am praying that she is done with the party too. But Raven is nowhere to be found.

“Let’s go.” Mia tugs my hand impatiently, as she whines to go back home.

We have to leave before she throws a tantrum. I take solace in the fact that I have never seen Raven display much interest in men. Those fucks can leer all they want; it won’t happen.

So I hug Reid goodbye. I remind him that the limo will come back in an hour to pick them up.

The ride back home is quiet. Mia passes out immediately, exhausted from all the dancing she did in high heels. My mind is still reeling from Raven’s aloof nature towards me. It leaves a tightness in my chest that I can’t explain.

Once we are home, I carry Mia inside and put her to bed. And I try to do the same. But suddenly, I feel the onset of a panic attack coming along.

Shit.

My heart is pumping like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I am trying to take deep breaths, but the oxygen is not reaching my lungs.

I need to talk to Raven. She always talks me down. If I am at the house, she strokes my cheeks and breathes with me. If I am on campus, we speak on the phone as she counts down with me. Hell, even texting with her calms me down.

This is the first time I feel a panic attack ensuing, and Raven is indisposed. I have been relying on the serenity she brings to my life. Now, I only know how to deal with my attacks through the tranquility she provides. I took that for granted. I took her for granted.

One night. It’s just one night that Raven is not at my beck and call. Just one night, when she is distracted by a party. A party in her honor. And I can’t deal. I am falling apart, paralyzed without her.

This is not fair to her. I can’t expect this from her when I am supposed to be taking care of her. It's not supposed to be the other way around.

Yet that’s how it is. I have been taking care of everyone. And she has been taking care of me.

I try to take shallow breaths. Despite my better judgment, I take a Xanax. I hate taking Xanax. It slows my heart, but not the way Raven calms me down.

The thought of her pinches my chest. I can’t shake the weird vibe I got from her tonight. I want to clear this up as soon as possible. I also want to give her the gift and have a normal conversation.

I hear voices outside. Without overthinking, I grab the envelope from my jacket pocket and let myself into Raven’s room.

-----------

Raven

I did as Reid suggested. I put some distance between Milo and I. It already feels like there is peace in the Sinclair home.

Reid’s mood has been bipolar over the last few years. At times, he gets along with Milo. They have their gym routine, and we all hang out as a family. At other times, Reid goes off on Milo about the pettiest of things.

Milo is concerned that these arguments might affect Mia negatively. One time Mia started crying while Reid was yelling at Milo. Milo hates upsetting Mia. Even when they are not fighting, Milo walks on eggshells, concerned about what will set off Reid’s next outburst.

Milo tries to shield Mia from Reid’s wrath. Reid is not so eager to comply. Sometimes he looks guilty for yelling at Milo in front of Mia. At other times, it’s like he has no control over his rage.

Exactly why it’s easier to adore Milo and take his side over Reid’s. Milo wants peace in the home. He thinks logically and keeps his calm.

Well, I am going to help Milo bring peace to the Sinclair family, even if he doesn't know it.

True to his words, Reid has been a loving brother to Milo tonight. There have been no snarky comments and no passive-aggressive remarks.

I can’t remember the last Sinclair outing we had, where Reid went this long without making at least a backhanded comment to Milo.

In exchange, I just had to hang out with my best friend and not look at his older brother like a creeper. It’s safe to say that this should not be considered a huge sacrifice on my part.

Tonight, Reid recognized Milo’s contributions to his life. Milo looked so happy during Reid’s speech. He has been yearning for Reid’s appreciation. And Reid’s been yearning for mine. He couldn’t give Milo that appreciation till he felt appreciated by me. I get it now.

Milo needs his brother. Reid needs me. The Sinclair siblings need each other. And I need all three of them to survive my otherwise lonely life.

Which means I have to stop acting like… like… like a “groupie.”

I shudder. Was I acting like one of them? I like those girls, but they hang all over Milo making moon eyes, hoping he’d throw them a bone.

Yuck! Self-respect, where art thou?

I suddenly wish Reid had this conversation with me years ago. I needed this dose of reality. I have been in a religious cult, praying to the church of Milo.

During our party, I caught Alexa drooling all over Milo by the bar. Oh God, am I part of that cult? I refuse to follow Milo around like a duckling.

While I will miss our special friendship, it’s not worth my self-respect. And the way Reid worded it, it sounds like it was definitely in a one-sided friendship.

Still, I will miss his guidance and mentorship. He has never steered me wrong. Every advice and suggestion has proved beneficial and made my life better. I know I will miss that the most. But at least I get my best friend back. The non-angry Reid.

On the way home, Reid and I do another set of sing-along and dance performances in the limo. When the limo comes to a stop, Reid drags me out. He takes me in a bear hug and twirls me around. I scream and we laugh till he sets me down. With his arms still around me, he leans back to look at me.

“Thank you! Tonight was awesome! We haven’t had that much fun together in so long.”

He gives me a soft appreciative kiss on the cheek and puts his forehead to mine. I smile in agreement.

Reid and I got high with some friends from school. We also drank a lot. All of these mind-altering substances are hitting me now. I intertwine our hands, and we stumble inside.

“I am exhausted. Good night.”

“What! No. Let’s get in our PJ’s and watch Borat. Borat! Borat!” Reid chants.

It’s our favorite tradition on our birthdays. But we will have to wait till tomorrow because I am too tired right now.

“No, dude, I am done. Too drunk. Too high,” I mumble, and Reid pouts.

“Good night, stud,” I get on my tippy-toe and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, beautiful.”

I just want to face plant on my bed right now. Swinging my bedroom door open, I turn on the lights. I almost jump out of my skin. There, sitting on my bed, is what I have been avoiding all night. Milo.

“Milo. Hi. Hey. How are you?”

Why am I so awkward? Apparently, I have been stalking this man for the last few years, albeit without meaning to do so. Now I can’t say a simple greeting.

Hi. Hey. How are you? I saw the man a couple of hours ago. And he lives here. He comes to my room all the time. What the hell, Raven?

Sober. Up. Right. Now.

Even though I am drunk and high, I have to be objective. I have to clear the fog in my mind within the next thirty seconds or so. Because Milo is looking at me like I am a crazy person.

I will my mind to sober up and formulate rational thoughts. I also have to remember my promise to Reid and keep up my new persona.

Objective: Make sure everyone in this family gets along. Make Milo, Mia, and Reid happy. They took you in. Do not be an ingrate who fucks up their lives.

Method: Compartmentalization. Separate Milo, the guardian, and Milo, the friend. Don’t be part of the Milo cult. Although, Miloism is the true religion and Milo is a God...

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

Try again!

Consider this. Your job is for this family to get along. This is your profession and how you earn a living, getting paid with the currency of love. At this job, public displays of religious acts are deemed unprofessional. You believe in the religion of Milo. How do you proceed?

Professionalism and religious beliefs have to coexist. So be respectful to both. Just tone down religion in the workplace. If the two are in conjunction, be polite and amicable to find a solution. Show Milo, you care and respect him, but keep a professional distance.

Got it? Okay, now will yourself back to reality and back to this conversation.

My mind is moving a million miles a minute, even in my drunken and high stupor. Somehow my motor skills are not matching my racing mind. I can’t formulate words yet.

“Rave… did you hear what I said?”

No. “Yes.”

“What did I say, Rave?”

“You want to talk.” I focus all my energy on forming words.

Don’t look at him as a God. There is no reason to idolize someone because they took you in, gave you a family, became your legal guardian, showered you with love, filled your empty heart.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I do have a problem.

I grab the water from my nightstand and chug the whole thing.

“Thirsty much.”

“Yes… much.”

"Are you drunk?"

Yes. "No, just really tired."

“Okay. Hold on. I will be right back.”

Milo is gone in a flash. Was that a hallucination? Reid and I had an edible, along with copious amounts of alcohol.

Yes, it was a dream. Must be. I just made a mind fuck analogy for no reason. I willed myself to sober up, and it was just Dream Milo.

I fall back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Of course, I am dreaming. Dreams are our conscience formulating what’s in our minds. And right now, I feel guilty.

I feel bad for making Reid resent his brother, putting Mia through unnecessary sibling drama, and for distancing the Sinclair brothers from each other.

I feel guilty for making Milo uncomfortable with my advances. My actions meant to portray my gratitude. Instead, I portrayed a sexually charged up hormonal teenager.

Shamelessly, I feel more pain for my own loss than I feel guilt. I feel pain for having to give up the closeness I share with Milo. A closeness I crave, above anything else in this world.

That’s why I conjured up Milo with my brain. Wait. If I conjured him up, where is he?

I squint my eyes to conjure up my legal guardian again, so he can tell me that he is proud of me, that he loves me, and I am worth sticking around for.

I open my eyes. Brain did well. Milo is standing there with a glass of water in his hand.

-----------

Milo

I set down the glass of water I brought for Raven. And she smiles at me. She gives me that smile, the one only reserved for me. Not that bullshit, polite smile from earlier today.

My heart explodes at the huge grin on her face. She is so beautiful.

“Here, drink this.”

“Okay.”

“You are in bed with your heels on. Are you going to take them off?”

“You take them off.”

I chuckle. My mood is suddenly so much brighter at her playfulness. All of my previous dark thoughts have dissipated. Sinking onto my knees beside the bed, I pull her legs to the side. I undo the strap of her heels and take them off.

“Jesus, these are at least four-inch high. How the hell did you dance with these on?”

“Hehe.”

“Seriously, don’t your feet hurt?”

“Can you rub… ”

That’s not a good idea. Even as I think it, I can’t deny her request. I brace her feet on my thighs and massage her swollen feet.

Raven lifts her head. “Mmmm…”

The moment I hear her moan, my muscles move on their own. I feel like I am in astral projection. I have left my body and staring down from the ceiling.

I watch as my face moves to place a small kiss on her right foot. I stiffen as soon as I realize what I did. I slowly lift myself up and sit down next to Raven. She is still in that outfit that gave me a heart attack earlier tonight. It’s still too distracting.

“You are not going to change before you go to sleep?” I manage to rasp out.

“Naaa… tell me things?”

“What things?”

“Just things. Things you couldn't say at the party.”

“Actually, I want to talk to you about that.”

“Yes.”

“Were you mad at me tonight?”

She turns to look at me. She looks sad. So sad. “No, Milo, never at you. Everyone but you.” Raven puts one hand on my cheek, “You saved me.”

I shatter. Like a broken mirror. That’s what I am right now. A shattered mirror on the floor. Too many tiny pieces are scattered about, making it impossible to glue it back together.

You saved me.

Her words haunt me. If only she knew. She saved me. She saves me every day. I needed this calming hand on my cheek. Raven, my fucking Xanax. My doctor ordered prescription.

I turn my head and kiss her palm.

It immediately gives me access to her smell. That vanilla smell. The smell of home, comfort, intensity, obsession. I want to smell it again. I put my own hand on hers. I kiss her hand again and then her pulse.

“Rave… ”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“What? What kind of question is that?”

“Don’t ever leave me."

I reach out to her, brushing one hand on her cheeks. My other hand strokes her hair.

“I’d never leave you.”

"You can't leave me. No matter what I do. It will break my heart if you do. Promise me you won’t leave me.”

Raven is never emotional like this. I just stare at her, dumbfounded.

"Say it."

"I promise I will never leave you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

“Milo."

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

I stay quiet. She is staring at me with glossy eyes, and I can’t take it anymore. I lean over to kiss both of her eyelids. I should not have done that either. Because now I need more.

Unable to find the strength to stop, I kiss her cheek next. Both of them. I place a kiss on her forehead. Her nose. Raven leans against my forehead and closes her eyes.

I stare at her mouth. I don’t know for how long, but I can’t look away. I can hardly breathe as I dip down and brush my lips to hers, very softly.

Raven doesn’t say anything.

I kiss her again. This time Raven puts her hand on my cheek. She raises her face to kiss back as I lean in to press my lips on her. I take in a sharp breath.

“Don’t leave me, Milo.” Raven murmurs against my lips, eyes still closed.

I don’t want to, but I have to. I can’t stay here any longer.

Shit.

What did we do?

I kissed her.

Then I kissed her again.

And she kissed me.

I shake my head. “Go to sleep. We will talk about this later.” I pull up the covers and leave the water on her night table, along with the envelope.

I wanted to see her face when she opened the gift. But I have to leave early in the morning. I am meeting up with the gang on campus. We are working on presentations all day. At night, we are leaving for Philadelphia. We have investor meetings lined up, so I am missing my classes this week. We will be traveling between Philadelphia and DC, and returning on Thursday.

I don’t want to wait till Thursday to give her the envelope. Tonight gave me a reality punch of how much I need Raven. I can’t be with her, but hopefully, this carefully planned itinerary and the fashion show will tell her how much I care for her. How much I value her. How often I think of her.

The itinerary includes the confirmation numbers for her open-ended plane tickets. The envelope also includes a list of other activities that Raven likes. Along with other things, I bought her a ten class package for French Cancan dance lessons, something she has been dying to learn. I spent days researching activities, all close to where Theressa is staying.

This trip to Paris will propel her career. She will gain experience working at her mom’s shop, putting together displays and dressing models. Once her outfit is showcased at the fashion show, it will look great on her resume, increasing her chances for FIT.

After that kiss, the last thing I want to do is leave her. I meant it when I told her that we will talk about it later. We will talk through this.

With just another kiss on her forehead, I force myself to close the door to the sleeping beauty’s room and head to my own bedroom.

-----------

Milo

I have barely heard from Raven in the last couple days.

She is not a confrontational person. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about the kiss, or maybe she was mad that I left. But at the very least, I assumed she would still text me to thank me for the envelope.

No such luck.

I did try to talk about the kiss. But her unresponsive text messages are making it difficult. This situation is complex, much like Raven herself.

That girl is a living paradox. She can curse, party, be carefree, use humor, and act like a little spitfire. Then she turns it around and acts like a mature adult, responsible, well put together, articulate with words yet reserved with her feelings. Sometimes I don’t know what to make of her. She is an enigma.

All of my friends know that Raven has a crush on me. I suspect Reid knows too. I always assumed she would grow out of it. Everyone did. They all thought I humored her while ignoring her silly crush.

The truth is, ignoring her feelings has been torture for me. I have developed a level of respect for Raven that is unparalleled to any other person on this planet. Yet, her parents trusted me with her care. I am her legal guardian, and that’s how the world sees us, members of the same family. For fuck’s sake, I cannot be her boyfriend if I am attending her PTA meetings and signing her permission slips.

If we were ever to be more, it would be a scandal of epic proportions. We have too many family friends and too large of a social network. The gossip would spread like wildfire in our community.

Everyone would jest and sneer behind our backs. It would be humiliating for Raven, Reid, and Mia, along with the rest of our family.

But since that kiss, I can’t seem to care about all of those valid reasons. It was barely even a kiss. I keep hearing Raven say that she loves me and to never leave her. It’s tearing me up.

I called her on Monday after my investor meeting. She didn’t pick up or return my call. Instead, she texted me the next day.

Sorry, I totally didn’t get a chance to call you back.

I was just checking in. How is everything going?

Her next text comes late at night.

Mia is good. We are all doing great. Thank you.

Did you open the envelope I left on your nightstand?

Again, she leaves me hanging until the next day.

Yes, thank you.

The dismissive messages are on my last nerve.

I take it from the curt responses that you are not a fan of Paris?

This time her response is faster, but no less infuriating.

On the contrary, I am going to leave earlier for Paris. I talked to my teachers. I only have two final papers left to turn in. My teachers agreed to let me email it to them. I am done for the semester.

Wait. What the fuck?

What? Why didn’t you check with me before making these decisions?

I am checking with you now.

After you have already decided…

No response. Nothing at all after she drops a bomb like that. I finally get a response after hours of checking my phone for a text.

You are the one who wanted me to go to Paris…

“This is fucking ridiculous,” I mutter to myself.

You are leaving in between your school year.

I am not. I am done with my school year.

I don’t know what to say. I just stare at the messages. I can’t believe Raven didn’t even check with me before making these decisions. This is not like her.

Anger is pounding through me. I want to throw the phone against the wall.

When are you leaving?

Raven hammers in the final nail to the coffin.

Tomorrow.

You are leaving before I get home?

The only available flight was in the morning.

She is making a fast exit. Purposely leaving before having to see me. This goes beyond normal non confrontational Raven. Something about her bailing doesn't quite add up. I have felt that girl pine for me for years. I finally gave in, even if it was only a little bit. She told me she loved me. Wouldn't she want to at least talk to me after we kissed?

Then it hits me.

It happened.

Raven is moving on. Raven wants to be done with this adolescent crush of hers. She is making it clear that she wants to move forward with her life, probably with someone who is not her legal guardian. That's probably why she was so aloof at the birthday party. The kiss was a backward momentum for her, not forward.

I remind myself, This is the way it’s supposed to be. We are supposed to outgrow these inappropriate feelings and focus on our respective roles as guardian and ward. She is making a mature decision. Raven is stronger than I am. She has more willpower than I do. I always knew that to be the case. She has wanted for me for years but never made a move. My own resolve almost broke so many times.

Yes, this is the right decision for both of us. We both need some distance after what happened. I should respect her decision.

So why am I completely hollow on the inside right now? I feel like she just sucker-punched me. If she made the right decision by leaving, why is it killing me and ripping me into half?

Three Months Later

-----------

Milo

This summer has been rough. It’s actually been the worst summer of my life.

I’ve tried to keep busy. Our app has been gaining traction and silent investors. I am also gearing up for my last year of college, with a successful app and career already in tow.

Between networking, investor meetings, and fixing bugs on the app, there shouldn’t have been much time to think. Yet, the thoughts come back. It comes back every fucking second. I can’t take it anymore. The silence, the distance between us.

Unable to help myself, I messaged her a few times. She either sends very delayed responses or is curt with her texts. She never picks up my calls, making excuses about working in her mom’s shop, the time difference, or spotty signals.

I know she made the right decision. I should stop. But there is a hole left in me that only she can fill. No one can understand the depths of longing I’m experiencing for that girl.

If anyone knew they would say that I am pussy-whipped. But you can't even say that because we have never even had sex. I shouldn’t be this stuck on a girl, especially one I’ve never even slept with.

So, I fight it. I fight the urge to think about her all the time. I fight the urge to give in and take a flight to Paris and make her mine. Devour her, the way my body craves.

Maybe I just need to get laid!

I’m on my longest dry spell. I have been sitting around, pining for her. I can’t even look at another female. Ever since that kiss, all I see is Raven’s face when we kissed. All I can hear is Raven telling me that she loves me and to never leave her.

This needs to stop!

We can’t be together. But all of me craves all of her. Every part of me says that she is mine and will always will be, no matter what.

All I feel nowadays is this violent frustration at my situation. This is not me. Yet, I have felt more out of control in the last few months than ever in my life.

At least things with my siblings have been better. Mia did not give me a hard time about the nanny until she had to leave for Grand Cayman. She calls me every day. Reid and I have gotten along better than we have in years. A few weeks into summer, Reid also left for Paris to join Raven. Against my better judgment, I considered the same.

But I needed some sort of indication from Raven that she wanted to see me. Fuck. I needed her to want to see me. I texted her to gauge her reaction.

Hey Rave, I hope you and Reid are having a blast in Paris. I was thinking about visiting.

Oh, Ok. If you want to.

Do you not want me to come?

Nothing like that. I just think you will be bored.

Why will I be bored?

Reid and I spend our days helping mom set up for her new shop in Paris. And he mentioned your app has been doing really well. I'd hate to tear you away. It’s really not that exciting over here.

I guess. Are you sure you don’t want me to come visit?

Positive. Focus on your app :)

We did not speak after that text. Raven has made her feelings crystal clear. I also need to move on.

At least, without the obligations to my siblings and my schoolwork, I haven’t felt overloaded. The panic attacks have been infrequent and few and far between. When they do strike, they are all about my fear of losing Raven in my life. Fear that she is moving on without me, and I can never do the same.

I have had to rely on Xanax over the summer. I hate doing that. Fuck. I need her to come back, even if it is just for my mental health.

How much longer am I going to be able to withstand this?

There is a constant desire to ask Reid how she's doing, what she's up to, but I force myself not to. I’m even staying away from her Facebook page, so I have nothing to feed my obsession with.

The obsession grows anyways. Never stops. Nothing works. Not time nor space. Nothing I do fills the void. I can’t stand living like this anymore.

I have made a pact with myself. I am giving it till the end of summer. By the time my senior year of college starts, I won’t have these feelings anymore. I won’t let myself.

I vow to move on with my life.

CHAPTER 5

August 22nd, 2015

-----------

Raven

Tonight’s the big night—Mom’s fashion show. We have been working towards this all summer. It’s going to be huge for her clothing line.

I have been in Paris for almost four months. And for most of the time, this is what I worked on.

I did leave Paris for a short time in between.

My second week here, dad called to see if I like to visit him in South Africa. I got the feeling that he was competing with mom. He barely ever called me before, much less, to invite me to visit him.

Either way, he flew me out to South Africa and took off the week to show me around. It was beautiful. I got to see the townships where my dad worked. I was heartbroken with the conditions and stayed a few extra days to volunteer.

Suddenly I had a new respect for dad, despite our broken relationship. However, conversations with him were still like pulling teeth. The only discussion we had in common was about the eldest Sinclair son. It seems like we are both in agreement about our admiration for him.

Once I got back to Paris, Reid flew out to join me. I am relieved to have him here. My mother has been tolerable, but her narcissism can still take its toll. After years apart, I now struggle to find a comfort zone with both my parents.

Reid serves as the much-needed buffer. Not to mention, I need to have a familiar Sinclair face around to feel at home.

We spent most of the summer partying and working.

We helped my mom with her new store and her upcoming fashion show. We got to meet other designers, models, and work with people from the industry.

I have been doing the kind of work that I dreamt of—and living the type of lifestyle that suits me. Paris has been magical for me in all aspects, except for one. The eldest Sinclair boy, Milo.

Milo kept in touch with me for the first couple of months. He offered to come to Paris. After I told him not to come, he didn’t contact me. I needed the space.

The night of my seventeenth birthday party solidified why I needed space from Milo. That night, in my high and drunken stupor, I thought I dreamt of Milo.

It was only when I woke up the next day, I saw an envelope from Milo and smelled Milo’s familiar cologne on my comforter. Realization dawned on me that Milo was there in person, not in my dreams. Despite my promise to keep an appropriate distance, I made the situation worse. Much, much worse.

I don’t remember everything. What I do remember is, telling Dream Milo that I love him—and begging him to never leave me. The next morning Milo left without saying goodbye. When I opened the envelope he left me; I knew just how much I freaked him out.

I found a printed itinerary for a summer in Paris. A very organized printed agenda.

My guess?

After hearing my declarations of love, Milo determined that my teenage infatuation was out of control. And in typical Milo fashion, he went into a fix-it mode. He probably called my mom to see if she could take me for the summer. Then stayed up all night researching and putting together a “summer of fun” itinerary for me in Paris, completed with open-ended flight tickets.

And bolted in the morning, before he had to face me again.

Once more, my feelings for Milo were misunderstood by everyone, including Milo himself. He did call me that following Monday, but I was too humiliated to even pick up his call. I have been avoiding him ever since.

I know he is angry at me, about the way I left and for ignoring him all summer. I didn’t ask for his permission and left before the school year was over. My school, Wellington Academy, allows their students to work at their own pace. I had submitted all my paperwork and was technically almost done for the semester. But still, it was disrespectful to not check with my legal guardian before leaving the country. I just had to get away. I couldn’t face him.

I wanted to cut the ties of our special relationship, the one that Reid hated. Now it seems like I have cut off all ties. Milo used to be one of my best friends. Now, we’re not even friends. We never talk. I miss him so much.

I don’t blame Milo for what he did. I needed this distance to stop being so fixated on him. It really hit me how uncomfortable I was making him.

Reid and I are supposed to head back next week. Reid booked a flight for later in the week, getting back right in time for the last weekend of summer vacation. My pride and humiliation won’t even let me look at return flights.

While in Paris, I had enough to distract myself with. I helped mom with her new shop. We worked tirelessly on the upcoming fashion show and the new line. Reid and I made friends with a plethora of French models and partied a lot.

I even tried my hand at dating.

I was tired of feeling like a stigma, yearning for love from mommy, daddy, and legal guardians. I needed to replace that craving with actual romantic interests. Determined to try harder with boys, I dated a guy, Michel. It lasted two months.

Michel was perfect. Gorgeous, tall, smart, charming.

I didn’t feel enough of a pull to give up my V card. However, I did feel brazen enough to try some sexual acts with him. Ultimately, I realized that my attraction was still lukewarm at best. I called it quits a few days ago. Michel wasn’t thrilled but agreed to remain friends.

Now that the action-packed summer is coming to an end, I am filled with dread about returning home. I try to push thoughts of home out of my mind as I finish getting dressed for the show.

Reid and I are getting all dolled up (or suited up as he calls it). After the fashion show tonight, Reid has all kinds of plans for debaucheries around Paris with our Parisian friends.

As I put on my earrings and shoes, I hear the bathroom door open. Reid pops his head out of the bathroom. “Ready to head out?”

“Yep, let me just grab my purse.”

We walk down to our apartment lobby and wave at the concierge. This place has become our home over the summer. We are really going to miss it.

I link my arm with Reid’s. “So, what’s on the agenda for later tonight?”

“Alcohol, models, dancing. Need more details?”

I giggle. “Nope, that about covers it. I can’t wait to sit alone on the sidelines and watch your Parisian groupies rock/paper/scissor it out on who gets to maul you tonight.”

“You are always welcome to join in. And because you are my friend, you don’t even have to play rock/paper/scissor against the groupies. I will throw you the first bone for free.’

I laugh out loud. “How very generous of you. I don’t deserve such kindness.”

“I am a generous guy.” Then Reid stops and frowns. “Wait, why will you be alone? What is Michelle doing tonight?”

“It’s Michel, and you know it. Remember, I broke up with him.”

“You did? You didn’t tell me.”

“Yea, I did.”

“Umm… I’d remember my best friend breaking up with her boyfriend.”

“Hmmm… I could have sworn I told you. Oh well, I broke up with him.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And are you okay? Should we be getting a pint of ice cream and watching The Notebook as you cry me a river?”

He is ridiculous. “Hold on to the ice cream and Notebook for now. I am fine. I just never felt… the attraction. It made no sense to continue, especially since we are going back.”

“If you didn’t feel the attraction,” Reid does air quotes, “then why did you go out with him?”

Now I am quiet. I haven’t gone into depth with Reid about my issues.

The venue is a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from our hotel. Since we have some time to kill, might as well utilize it wisely.

“Remember the talk you had with me the night of our seventeenth birthday party?” We exit the lobby and step onto the sidewalk. “You told me I was acting like a love-crazed teenager around Milo. I was mortified to hear it. I didn’t realize how my behavior was coming off to others.”

Reid cranes his neck to look at me, “I didn’t exactly use the words love crazed teenager.”

I nod. “Either way, I do have this constant need for attention from authoritative figures. I am always the teacher’s pet. I am the chaperone’s favorite during field trips. Dance coaches always choose me to be their assistant. For fuck’s sake, my mom basically abandoned me. And look at me now, doing everything I can to make her happy.”

I am suddenly filled with self-loathing. “I was doing the same thing with Milo. He took over the parental role, and immediately I had this sick craving to make him love me. I am a teenager. I should be ignoring family to chase boys, get drunk, and go to parties.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Instead, I am stuck in this vortex of pleasing one authority figure to the next. Constantly craving approval. I am consumed by it.”

I wave both my hands in front of me as if trying to paint a picture. “I just want to take my need for love and refocus it in a different direction. If I date, I can at least try to meet someone whose love and attention is enough for me. And I won’t have to humiliate myself in front of parental figures, begging them to love me.” I try to say my closing statement without bitterness, but I fail.

Reid’s face is still tilted towards me as he watches me. I stare straight ahead, too embarrassed from my confessions to meet his eyes.

“Rave, you don’t need to refocus your energy with such extreme measures,” he says tentatively. “I didn’t understand then why you craved Milo’s attention so much. I understand it now.”

Reid clasps his hands together. “We both have shit parents. At least I always had Milo. You had no one. Unlike our shit parents, Milo actually returns our affections. I don’t think you have to beg him to love you. He does that willingly, just like he does with Mia and me.”

Reid rubs the back of his head with his hand. This is one of his ticks when he is feeling guilty or nervous. “I was a jealous asshole. I didn’t want to lose my best friend’s attention to my brother. I didn’t think that would push you into dating men you are not interested in. I am a selfish piece of shit.”

“Reid, no. That’s not it at all. There was truth to what you said.”

“Even so, I made it sound worse than it was. Milo loves you. And I get why you need his approval and crave a special bond with him. I am sorry. I won’t stand in the way of that again.”

Reid pulls me in for a one-handed hug and kisses my temple.

I reflect on Reid’s words. Even with his “approval” of me seeking out Milo, I am not convinced.

It’s comforting to hear that Milo loves me and willingly returns my affections. Reid’s words make me think that I overreacted by distancing myself from Milo.

But he is not aware of what happened on the night of the party. I told Milo that I love him. My actions made him uncomfortable enough to send me all the way to Paris for the summer. Which means my behavior needed to change.

Over the summer, I’ve worked on my interaction with Milo, putting some distance between us. I plan to keep this up when I return.

As we reach the fashion show, I am adamant on my resolve, despite Reid’s blessing.

We check-in at the main entrance and enter the large ballroom. The fashion show is in full swing. Every chair is filled, the music is blaring, and the champagne is flowing. Mom is backstage, putting finishing touches on the models.

Reid and I have front row seats. We are already three glasses of champagne in when the lights turn down, and the show begins. I am so nervous.

Reid puts a hand on my knees. “Easy! I can feel you vibrating. It’s going to be great.”

I try to calm down. It’s going to be great, I mentally chant.

And it is. Model after model strut down flawlessly. The outfits look amazing. My nerves are now calm. I sit back and enjoy all of our hard work come to fruition.

Towards the end of the show, one of the outfits catches my eye. I didn’t see it on the list, and something about it looks oddly familiar. As the model gets close, I realize why.

My mouth drops.

Before I can decipher more, the model has retreated backstage.

Right after, my mom walks out with all the models in tow behind her. We all stand up to clap and cheer the successful show. This is a huge moment for her.

Once the clapping subsides, I hunt down my mom. Reid is already being swarmed by female admirers. He has gained a herd of “Parisian groupies” through our new clique. Most of whom are models. It’s nice to be a good-looking Sinclair.

I don’t feel bad leaving him behind, as I am sure those females will keep him plenty occupied.

“Surprise!” Mom yells out and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“Wh… What?”

“I hope you liked it. It took everything in me not to blab. And I lasted all summer. Proud of me?”

“I don’t understand. What is going on?”

“Haha. Okay, sweetheart. I will give you the plot summary.” My mom waves her hands dramatically. “Milo sent me your sketches. I had no idea that my daughter was so talented,” she beams. “I loved one of them so much that I made it. We wanted to surprise you at the fashion show. But we were having problems setting a date for the show… ” Mom’s voice trails off.

Mom grabs a bottle of water from one of the passing waitresses. She takes a quick swig of it and continues. “Anyway, Milo got you open-ended plane tickets, so we can definitely make sure you will be here for the show. I offered to pay for the tickets, but he insisted that we split your birthday gift. He pays for the tickets, the dance classes, and all your activities. My part was much easier. Just make the dress and don’t blab to my daughter.” Mom gives me a kiss on each cheek.

I suddenly feel so weak.

“I hope I did you proud, sweetie. And that you liked my belated gift. Congrats, baby. You are officially a designer now. The dress is called It's so Raven.” Mom holds up one hand, “I know, I know. Not original. But I had to put down a name.”

“Mom, you guys did all this? When?” I whisper.

“Oh honey, Milo was working on this all year. How blessed are we to have the Sinclairs in our lives?”

Mom contemplates her words, and her forehead forms a frown. “What I don’t understand is why he had a change of heart about coming to Paris? The plan was always for Milo and Reid to join you in Paris after Mia left for Grand Cayman.”

I feel like I have been sucker-punched. The wind is knocked out of me. My lips quiver as I try to come up with a response.

I know why Milo didn’t come to Paris.

Because I am an ungrateful bitch who told him not to come. He sent me a text, asking if he should come to Paris. And I said No.

He did everything in his power to give the summer of my dreams. To propel my career, in the city of fashion. And I so poorly misunderstood his intentions.

This was the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. It’s like he ripped open my soul, saw what I wanted, and etched it on a piece of paper for me.

“I don’t know, mom,” is all I manage to choke out. “But thank you. This was so thoughtful. I love it, and I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

I can’t formulate any more words. I am grateful when my mom is snagged by other attendees.

I am angry. I am so angry, and I am so sad.

Although it’s irrational, I feel resentful towards Reid for asking me to tone it down with Milo. I feel angry at myself for doubting Milo’s intentions. I am sad at how much I miss Milo right now. I am sorry about our broken bond. I’d pay any price to get it back.

My heart feels punctured.

I text Reid to tell him I am leaving. I know it’s not his fault, but I am too irritated to talk to him. My plan is to go back to the apartment, pack my bags, and book the earliest flight back. Then I will grovel at Milo’s feet for acting like a Class A ungrateful, spoiled brat. I will beg for his forgiveness for leaving the way I did, disappointing him, and dismissing him all summer.

How could I even think Milo was trying to get rid of me? He’d never push me away. No one and I mean no one, in this world, will stick by me as he does. How many times does this man have to prove that he is the only one capable of loving me unconditionally, no matter what I do? When will I learn?

-----------

Milo

I finish answering the last of my emails and turn off my computer. As I am about to get up from the living room sofa, I hear the front door fly open.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something that makes my breath hitch.

Actually, not something. Someone.

There she is. The object of my obsession, in flesh and blood. Raven is standing at the front door, mere feet away from the living room. Her eyes are transfixed on me.

I can’t move. This is not real.

My starved eyes take her in. She’s different.

She has a European sophistication to her. Her dark hair is bouncing around her shoulders. She’s wearing black leggings, with a low-cut top. She has a tan, making her skin look even smoother.

She is wearing more makeup than I remember her wearing before. Without makeup, she is an understated beauty, intoxicating to me. With makeup, she looks like a vixen, which does all the same things for me.

I swallow. Hard. Almost four months since I last saw her. I missed her. I missed her so fucking much. I promised myself that I would be done with these feelings by the end of summer. So why haven’t they stopped?

Raven rolls in her large suitcase. Setting down her backpack, she shuts the door. I stand, ready to gravitate towards her, like a moth to a flame. Stepping out of the sitting area, I walk towards her. I stop short, mere feet away from her.

We stand there, for God knows how long, looking at each other. If I am supposed to be over her, then why the hell can’t I breathe just from looking at her? I told myself that I could handle being in the same room with her since her fast escape after our kiss. I fucking lied to myself. The time apart didn’t decrease my obsession, I confirm in my mind.

Nope. If anything, it’s the opposite. Time has only fed my obsession with her.

Raven looks tense. My jaw goes as tight as possible, as I remember the last time we spoke. I am relieved, but also angry… and in full on lust mode.

“Hello, Milo,” she finally rasps out, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

Those two words squeeze down into my soul. Her soft voice stifles any resolve to remain strong.

“Rave, you are back.” I try my best to smile. “How are you?”

“Good. And you?”

“I am great. Where is Reid?”

“I… I made a last-minute decision to come home. I took the first available flight back. Reid’s flight was already booked, and he couldn’t change it.”

“Why did you suddenly decide to come home?”

“I was homesick.” Raven pauses, then adds, “And I missed you. I wanted to see you.”

My heart squeezes in my chest one more time. My libido is flaring at the sight of her, the sound of her voice, and at her confession.

“I am glad you are back. You look great.”

“Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

Raven gives my body a once over. I know what she sees as she takes me in my physique. I have been hitting the gym really hard, taking out all my frustrations. I am in the best shape of my life. Every part of me is now pure muscle. I have received more female attention in the last couple of months than ever before.

Does she notice it too? Does she like it?

“I’ve been working out a lot,” I say, hearing how hoarse my voice is.

She is silent. I need to hear her voice again.

“Did you like your birthday gift?”

“Yes,” her cheeks turn pink. She stands there, fidgeting with her hands. She finally says, “It was the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. It defined the word perfection.”

Raven stares at me with glossy eyes. She is looking at me in a way that's so familiar. It’s the way she used to look at me before everything went to shit.

I’ve seen the attraction in the eyes of many women before, but this goes beyond that. The way Raven is looking at me right now surpasses anything I have ever experienced. That look, like I am her whole damn world.

I needed this. I pined for that look. It’s the high I have been chasing. I’m defenseless against her and that look.

“Don’t I at least get a hug for giving you the perfect present?” What am I saying? I spent my summer trying to forget her. Now I am seeking out physical contact. I must be a masochist.

“Huh?” She is just as surprised by my request. I don’t care. I need physical contact.

“You just said I gave you the perfect gift. Not to mention we haven’t seen each other all summer. I assumed I’d at least get a hug?”

I slowly walk up to her, my hands moving around to her back. Raven is still staring at me like she is trying to read my expression or understand me. I don’t care either way. My hands wrap around her lower back even tighter. Her arms wrap around my neck. I palm the back of her head with one hand, the other still around her waist. I pull her close.

I turn my head as I smell her for the first time in months. Vanilla. That intoxicating smell. I want to smell more of it. I want to smell her hair, her neck, her pulse, every part of her skin. I want to inhale her vanilla scent so deep that it imprints on me. I have been craving this for months—the smell of my infatuation.

It just takes one simple hug to break the beaver dam I built to keep out my desire for her. I know now what I have known all summer, what I refused to admit, even to myself.

I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.

My heart is hammering, in fear that she’ll pull away. I close my eyes. But she stays put, complacent. She feels so right in my arms. Jesus.

I want her. I want her so much—more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.

“I missed you, Raven.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

I didn’t expect her to respond so readily. I feel the certainty of attraction between us. But the elephant in the room is still with us—my resentment, bitterness, anger. The hell I went through this summer.

Before I can stop myself, I growl out, breaking the spell. “Then why did you leave like that?”

I surprise myself, and Raven, with the sheer volume of my voice. She jumps out of my hold.

NO. I almost shout when she pulls back. My hands quickly tighten around her back, refusing to let go.

“I didn’t mean to… I am s-sorry.” Raven stammers.

“Sorry! That’s all you have to say? I have been worried sick. Do you know how I felt this whole summer?”

She told me she loved me. We kissed, then she left without any warning and ignored me all summer. Raven is strong. No matter what her feelings are, she has enough self-restraint to do the right thing. I know that. She was trying to do the right thing and made the best decision for both of us.

But that doesn’t decrease the pain or anger.

I am looking down at her. Bitter. Lustful. Without warning, I grab her arms and pin her to the wall. My body covers every inch of hers. I hold her arms down by her side.

“Why, Raven?” My voice reflects what is going on inside me, the feeling of being torn apart.

“Milo… I…” Raven looks shocked.

“Fuck!” All my anger from the summer comes out. I crush my lips to hers. One of my hands fists her hair, the other pinning down one of her tiny wrists.

I slowly move my mouth back from her soft lips. Raven looks like she doesn’t have a single coherent thought. She is speechless.

Good! I am still pissed, and that wasn’t enough.

I slam my lips back onto hers. I groan and tilt my head. I finally do something I never had the chance to do. I push my tongue inside her mouth, giving her no choice but to open for me.

Raven is frozen. She has not stopped me, but I can feel her holding back. I keep stroking her tongue aggressively, demanding that she respond. Raven tentatively reciprocates, and I moan as our tongues collide.

The kiss turns rough. I lick her bottom lip. Then lick my way down her to her throat, groaning against her skin. “You taste so good.” I am breathing so loud, like a starved man taking in his last meal.

I stop at her neck and suck on her skin. I slowly pant against her neck, praying to divine intervention for more control. I nibble on her neck. A sensitive spot on her neck makes Raven moan. She reflexively fists her hands into my shirt and arches her back as I keep at it and suck hard enough to leave a mark.

I needed this. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough. I need more. So much more. I grab her ass and lift her, cueing her to wrap her legs around me. My mouth is devouring hers as I rub against her.

Suddenly, I feel Raven freeze. She stops responding to my kisses. Tearing myself away from her mouth, I lean back to speculate. Her eyes are down, looking at where our groins are connected, on top of our clothing. She can feel my hardness. It must have zapped her back to reality.

The spell is broken!

I slowly settle her back down on her feet. Raven doesn’t meet my eyes as I stare at her for a long moment, quietly studying her face.

Shit.

I forgot all of my boundaries and reservations. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I just missed her so damn much. I fucked up.

“I think I am going to lie down. I am exhausted from the flight,” Raven doesn’t meet my eyes, as she grabs her backpack and walks up the stairs, leaving her big suitcase by the door.

I nod, unable to formulate a word. Classic Raven. She gets overwhelmed with foreign emotions during heavy situations. She always needs a few minutes to gather herself.

Over the years, Reid, Mia and I have learned to give her space till she can sort shit out in her head. She likes to compartmentalize and analyze situations at her own speed. She does not like confrontations, always preferring flight over fight.

For now, I need to give her space. We can talk after she gets a chance to think. At least she is running upstairs, not to another country.

Walking to the living room, I sit back down on the sofa. I try watching some television, turn my computer back on to work on the app, anything I can think of to distract myself.

After an hour, I am out of ideas and patience. I have waited as long as I can. Grabbing her suitcase, I carry it up the stairs and roll it to her room. I knock unsurely on her door.

“Rave,” I call out as I push the door to her room open, to step inside.

Silence.

She is sprawled in the middle of the bed with a comforter on. Is she really sleeping after what just happened?

I move towards her until I’m sitting on the bed next to her unconscious body. I brush my thumb over the apple of her cheek, entranced at the sight of her.

“Milo?” Raven’s eyes are barely open.

“Hey.”

“W-what’s going on?” Raven says in a disoriented voice.

“I wanted to bring your suitcase up. Are you hungry? Wanna come downstairs for dinner?” It’s a silly request. What I really want to do is curl up in that bed with her.

Raven blinks. She looks like she is ready to go back to sleep, her eyelids are so heavy.

“If you are still tired, you can go back to sleep.”

I just want to lie down next to her and feel her in my arms. Against my better judgment, I trail my hand along the edge of her face, down to her jaw. Raven draws in a shuddering breath. My hand moves down to her arms, feeling her goosebumps as I go along.

Fuck it. I am going to do it.

Pulling a pillow next to her, I lean down and lift Raven slightly. Nudging a sleepy Raven onto my chest, I lay us both down on to the pillow.

1 Mississippi… 2 Mississippi… 3

No protests from Raven. Looking down, Raven’s eyes are already closed, drifting back to sleep.

As she sleeps, my eyes move over her face slowly. Her red lips are slightly parted, bottom one wet and jutting out. Her long lashes are fanning her rosy cheeks. It looks like she took off her makeup in a rush, before hitting the hay. Some of her mascara is smudged on her eyelids. Her hair is in complete disarray, sticking out from all ends.

She is so strikingly beautiful.

I have had sex with more women than I care to count. Beautiful women. I have hooked up with models and socialites’ daughters. They are all tall, skinny, perfect complexion. Keeping with New York City traditions, they all present themselves in well put together designer outfits. None of them hold a candle to Raven when she dresses up, especially when she dresses up in a Theressa Beckett Special.

However, when Raven strips off her fancy clothes and shoes, somehow, she is a different type of beauty, unmeasurable to anyone in this world.

Like right now.

With her tousled, messy hair, no makeup, and current vulnerability, Raven looks like a rare beauty found at the end of the world, after a lifetime of searching. Her unique features make her one billion times more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen or been with. She is exquisite.

Her demeanor and how she carries herself only add to the allure. Raven doesn’t throw tantrums like most women I know. She always has a way of carrying herself in a classy dignified manner.

She is a unicorn. One that only lives in fantasies. Somehow, she came alive for me. A fantasy I can’t go on without.

I am certain about our feelings for each other. I am concerned about the qualms regarding a change in relationship status between us. I am sure she is just as concerned about all the obstacles in our way.

For years, those obstacles are what held me back from her. Right now, I can’t remember why I cared so much. No guy on this planet has ever wanted a girl as much as I want her. I am positive about that fact. Denying myself for the last few years has taken more effort than anything I’ve done in my life.

Which is why it sucks that I have no idea what she is thinking. I can’t hold back anymore. I want her. I need to know she wants me too. Even if she doesn’t talk to me, I need assurance right now. Against my better judgment, I lean down and gently brush my lips to hers.

-----------

Raven

My eyes fly open as I feel a soft pair of lips on me. I immediately stiffen.

Today has been a long day. I caught the first available flight back from Paris, providing a measly excuse to my mother and Reid. Grabbing a taxi from the airport, I rushed home, ready to make amends with Milo.

It did not go as planned.

First, Milo hugged me in more than a brotherly way. Out of nowhere, he pinned me to the wall and stared at me like I was his missing meal. He kissed the hell out of me. And then… I felt Milo’s arousal against me.

I have no idea what happened, but I sprinted to my room, took off my makeup, changed, and threw myself on the bed.

Maybe it was all a dream or in my head? I felt guilty for ignoring Milo all summer, while he gave me the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. Maybe my brain conjured up a sexual fantasy, to create the intimacy I was missing with him over the summer.

Not ready to face what happened, I decided to shut off my mind and go to sleep. The flight back had a long layover, taking over fifteen hours. I am exhausted. My tired mind is probably playing tricks on me, shading the line between reality and fantasy.

But this is real. I am sure of it.

He came into my room to ask about dinner. I could barely open my eyes. Before I knew it, I felt myself shift, with my head hitting Milo’s chest.

And now he is kissing me. I have no idea how to take any of this. It feels like my world has stopped. I can feel my heart beating up to my ears.

Milo rolls me over. He is now on his side, with one arm banded around me, as he slowly moves his mouth back down to mine. I just watch him with wide eyes, completely dumbfounded. My brain is screaming, STOP. But I don’t say it—I can’t. This is Milo. How can I reject Milo of all people?

He slowly lowers his lips to meet mine. His hand is on my cheek, and his upper body is pressed tightly against mine. My head is spinning, as Milo slips his tongue inside my mouth. Again.

Milo’s mouth devours mine, as he pulls me closer. He drops his head to kiss my neck, biting down on a spot that makes me moan. Upon hearing my vocalization, Milo's eyes flare with a hunger I have never seen in a man before.

He gently tugs at my shirt without taking it off. He is silently asking for permission as he gives me a questioning look while holding at the hem of the shirt.

This is getting out of hand. What the hell is happening between us?

I need to say something. Yet, I stay quiet.

Instead, I nod and watch Milo slowly peel off my tank top up to my chest, enough to expose my breasts. We are both looking at each other in shock as it registers what we are doing.

He bends his head and takes one of my nipples into his mouth, running his tongue over it. He maintains eye contact, as he does the same to my other breast.

He comes up to cover my mouth with his lips again. I feel Milo’s hands all over me like he couldn’t stop touching me if he wanted. His hands roam over my chest, my waist, making its way to the sleeping shorts I had changed into earlier.

His fingers start caressing me on top of my shorts. His lips move up to my neck, licking and kissing his way back to my mouth.

I can feel myself getting wet. There is a tightening growing low in my stomach. Even if we should, I can’t find myself to care or will myself to stop. He is amazing at what he is doing.

Milo impatiently pulls my shorts down. He hasn't made a move to touch my bare skin yet.

I am impatient. I want contact. I can't wait a second longer.

“Have you been with anyone before?” His husky voice startles me. Neither of us have spoken for so long; I forgot we could use our vocal cords for communication.

I stare at him with a stupefied look, then slowly shake my head for a no. How can he ask that question so casually, like he is asking me for the time?

"Do you want me to stop?"

Hell no. Not anymore. I want relief. And I want it now.

I shake my head as a no again. I don't even care what his reasons are. I don't want to break this spell by talking.

"If you haven't been with anyone, we should wait," Milo murmurs in my ears.

As if he can hear my perverse thoughts, he follows it up with an alternate solution. "We can do other things. But we can't go further than touching."

And with that, Milo slowly starts to rub against my clit. I can almost hear how wet I am. Moaning and thrashing, I only come back to focus as I feel his hardness against my leg. I look down to see Milo’s tented crotch through his pants. Milo follows my gaze. I lift my eyes to look at him. He is lying on his side, one hand propping his head up. The other is still caressing me.

Locking eyes with Milo is too intense. But I don’t know where else to look. Looking down at his hand pleasuring me is awkward. Closing my eyes seems impersonal. So instead, I pervertedly look back down and stare at his tented crotch as his hardness lengthens against me.

Slowly, Milo pulls his fingers out from between my folds. He undoes his belt buckle and unbuttons his jeans. I hear the zipper of his jeans before I see him lift his hips to pull his jeans down, taking his boxers with them. His dick whips out, and all I can do is stare.

Milo continues to undress, as he grabs the hem of his shirt to pull it off over his head. He is completely naked.

I can’t stop staring at him. He is ripped. No fat. Solid muscle. Broad shoulders and chest. He always had a nice body, but over the summer... damn! He has defined abs, and the veins stand out on his arms. He looks like what you would imagine if Channing Tatum and Ryan Gosling had a baby.

Women threw themselves at him all the time. Beautiful women. Models. I have seen it. I have heard women pine over him. Women who are perfect tens. So what is he doing here with me?

Does he feel sorry for me, because I said I loved him? Is he "throwing me a bone" because he feels bad? Is this a pity hook up?

Does he think if he fulfills my fantasy, I'd get over my “infatuation” and move on with my life, instead of running away to Paris?

Or is it possible that the oldest, most desirable Sinclair wants me?

As I bulldoze questions and possible scenarios through my mind, I know the last speculation is untrue. Though it’s a flattering thought, someone like him could never be interested in me. He is a God among mortals. I am a high school kid.

So what is it that he wants with me?

Milo doesn’t do relationships. With his responsibilities, schoolwork, the new app, and household obligations (one of them being me), there has never been enough time for a girlfriend. As a result, the extent of his romantic relationships has been “friends with benefits.” Many of whom wanted more, but it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Being the good guy that he is, Milo makes that clear to women. If they still choose to pursue him, they can. He’d never steer or misguide anyone. Which means he wouldn’t do that to me either.

Yet, this seems wrong.

Milo is on his side again; once more, his head is propped up by his elbow. He is quietly studying me, his eyes moving all over my face. Milo trails his fingers back down to my shorts. I almost jump from the sudden movement.

“It’s okay, baby. I just wanna touch you,” he whispers as his fingers slip back in.

Baby?

What are we doing? We need to stop. I almost formulate a word, but I can’t spit it out. Milo makes me feel like a petulant child, one who should always do as he says.

“Ahhh…” I whimper, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Suddenly I am a blank canvas with no more thoughts left—a Tabula Rasa. Nothing exists except for his fingers.

“Baby, touch me while I touch you.”

I should say no, but my usual backbone has completely slipped. Milo is acting with so much confidence; it leaves no room for arguments. Milo seems certain about what’s going on. So much so, that I would follow him to hell right now if he told me to.

And it feels like I just did.

My hands move on their own, between us and down his body. We are both lying on our sides now, facing each other.

I run my index fingers down his length, feeling his size. I can feel Milo holding his breath as my small hands trace his length. He gives out a groan but holds very still as I explore. My trembling fingers slowly close around his dick.

I have given handjobs a few times to Michel over the summer. I know how to do it. But all my limited experience seems to have left me. Luckily, Milo guides me and whispers instructions on how he likes to be stroked.

“Hold me tight. Stroke me up and down. Yes, just like that,” he gives out a restrained growl.

He fixes his gaze to me as I stroke him. I can feel him trying to maintain control.

Milo pants as he covers my face and neck with kisses. “Oh my God, that feels so fucking good,” Milo’s breathing is now ragged, his face is flushed, and his pupils are dilated.

All the while, he is somehow focused enough to continue his own assault on me. I can barely follow his instructions, distracted by his fingers.

I try to remember to cup his balls, squeezing and pumping him with both hands. At the same moment, he increases his own tempo on my clit. Before long, I am chasing an orgasm of my own.

All of a sudden, I hear Milo groan out, “Fuck, baby.” His warm cum land on my hands and legs.

I don’t even get a chance to react before he does something on my clit that has my back arching. I try to scream out, but my voice gets stuck in my throat.

I am not able to pay attention to anything else right now as I fall back on my pillow. I have completely dissipated from reality, unaware of my own body and movements.

From a distance, I hear the bathroom door open. A few minutes later I feel something wet on my legs. I peek down to see Milo wiping the semen off my leg and hands, with a washcloth.

I vaguely watch Milo putting his boxers back on, as he throws the washcloth in my dirty laundry hamper. I still can’t move but Milo pulls my tank top down, and my shorts up.

He stretches out on the bed with me, with his head in the hollow of my neck. A little of his weight is on top of me, but most of it is on the side, so it’s not uncomfortable.

His warm body weight, combined with the post-orgasm high, is far too calming. My eyes close on their own as we both start to drift off.

-----------

I wake up the next day, completely disoriented.

What's going on?

My world comes crashing down within a second. I am lying on my side with Milo’s arms wrapped around me.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

We… oh God. I don’t have time to think. Milo is fast asleep. And I do not want to be here when he wakes up. I slowly untangle myself from his hold.

I move off the bed and tiptoe around to change into some clothes and find some shoes. Grabbing my purse and phone, I turn the knob to the bedroom as quietly as I can. Hoping it doesn’t creak, I slip out. I don’t bother closing the door behind me.

I dash downstairs, grasping at the nearest wall to steady myself. I am a mix of confusion and shame as I try to piece it together.

What the hell happened last night?

What overcame Milo and what possessed me?

There were opportunities to stop. He would have respected my choice if I told him to stop. I am not weak. I have said No to plenty of boys before. Why didn’t I say no? If anything, I egged him on.

I didn’t even formulate a word. I couldn’t. I just gaped at him like an idiot. By the time my senses came around, he had started building up my orgasm. At that point I would have begged him to keep going, not the other way around.

What would people say if they knew I did that with the guy who signs my report cards and chaperones my school dances? We are going to be a Woody Allen joke. I am mortified.

I can’t even tell Reid. He might have given me his blessing to be close with Milo again but I doubt he meant that close. He is going to be pissed. Thou shalt not covet your BFF's brother.

Not to mention the most taboo reason of all. The law recognizes that man as my legal parent.

This is sick.

Maybe we were both overwhelmed by our emotions when we saw each other. I was sad about our distance and how I treated him. He was angry about the way I left. Emotions were running high, and it exploded in epic proportions. It was a mistake—a misunderstanding. Even Milo is allowed to make one mistake.

Yes. Milo made a mistake. As did I. But we will fix it. We have to.

Milo will know how to proceed. He always does. I can always count on Milo to pick up the pieces. For now, I have to compartmentalize what happened. If I don’t, my brain will fry from over-analysis.

I need to get out of this house and find my bearings. I shoot a quick text to Janeen, one of my good friends from school, to see if she wants to catch up.

It’s about eight am. She is the only teenager I know who will be up at this hour during summer vacation. She usually has swim meets very early in the morning.

Janeen texts me back, agreeing to grab breakfast. I sigh a small relief as I sprint out of the house, needing as much space as possible from my residence.

-----------

Milo

I wake up to an empty bed. The high I felt last night dissipates. Raven is gone. She freaked out about last night. I can feel it. Last time we kissed, she admitted that she loved me and then fled the country before we could even talk.

What if she runs again?

Anxiety paralyzes me at that thought. I can’t go through what I went through this summer. I never want to experience that again. I have to find her and calm her down. My mind is reeling about how to move forward.

I know what we mean to each other. No other woman has ever looked at me the way she looks at me. And she is the only person for me. She can see through me, through my very soul.

Yet, for so long, we both put a pin on our feelings.

I am older. I am the one who is supposed to hold back. Yet, I initiated it last night. I should have exercised more self-control.

It’s a constant battle, my obsession versus what's right. After last night my obsession is winning. She was responsive as well, which doesn't help. I don’t know how much more I can hold back.

Maybe we can talk this out.

I knock on the bathroom door, hoping to talk to Raven. No response. Heading downstairs, I look around for her and call her name. Again, no response.

You have got to be kidding me. Raven has flown the nest. Again. Grabbing my phone, I fire up a text.

Where are you?

Grabbing breakfast with Janeen.

What is with that girl? Is she always going to run away every time she doesn’t want to deal with something or feels awkward? I wait for her to come home.

Hours go by. Hours of waiting for her. Hours of absolute torture. Hours of giving her space. I can’t take it anymore. Is this how she felt for years; when she pined for me and I had to ignore her feelings?

I wanted her. I just couldn’t act on it. I still shouldn’t. But now that the barrier between us is broken, I don’t know how to go back. I should feel like a piece of shit, but my desire is pushing my honor code right out of the door.

All these thoughts keep me jolted as I try to busy myself for the rest of the day. By eight pm, I am beyond frustrated with her.

Fuck that; I am pissed. I am so pissed; I am shaking. After a summer of running away and avoiding me, she is doing the exact same shit again. I didn’t expect this from Raven. I never considered our age difference as being one of our many barriers. I considered all the other factors. But never this.

Raven is notorious for being too mature and wise beyond her age. She is always playing the diplomat in our household, placating tense situations. Even my friends seek her out for advice.

But recently, her inexperience in life is starting to show. This is not how you handle things. You can’t avoid and run away every time you don't want to deal with a situation.

I look at my phone for the hundredth time. I am hoping for a call. A text. Anything. I throw my phone across the room and only get angrier that it lands on the carpet. I needed to hear the noise of something shatter right now. In fact, I want to hear everything shatter right now. I want to destroy everything around me. I want to destroy my house. All of my possessions. All of my siblings' possessions. I want to be surrounded by chaos and darkness, like how I feel on the inside.

I start to breathe heavily and touch my chest, where a budding pain is building. I know my anxiety is growing, and an impending panic attack is around the corner. The only person who can calm me down is nowhere in sight. Biting down my ego, I pick up the phone and shoot her another text.

You need to come home.

Is everything ok?

I am shaking with pent-up anger and other emotions.

Come home. NOW!

Why?

Because I said so.

You are scaring me. What’s going on?

Is she kidding? It’s been months of the same crap, and she is asking what’s going on. I am over it. She is fucking with my head.

Please don’t argue. Just come home.

Ok.

-----------

Raven

I am staring at my phone. Milo has never spoken to me like that. Like a strict parent. Reid and I have always enjoyed our freedom, as long as we follow Milo's rules.

Milo sometimes chides Reid about his questionable decisions but has always praised me for my responsible outlook. He trusts me to make good decisions. He always treats me like an equal.

So what the hell was that?

Janeen and I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary than what we usually do during summer vacation. We had breakfast, went to watch a movie, walked around, and ended the day by grabbing some dinner at a cafe near my house. I was just getting ready to head back when Milo hit me with his tornado of demands to come home.

I have to remind myself that Milo has every right to talk to me that way. After all, he is the one who sets the rules in my life. And I don’t want to fight with him. After what happened over the summer, I just wanted to come back to apologize to Milo, and get back to our normal.

Except that everything has gone so wrong. We made a mistake. And now I don’t know how to talk to him or be around him. I needed to regroup, so I spent the day avoiding him.

It's selfish to feel this way. After what I put him through this summer, this is the last thing I should have pulled. I am treating him unfairly. I know that.

It takes two to tango. He is probably just as confused as I am. We need to talk and figure this out. I need to stop acting so self-absorbed and I need to stop running away all the time.

Plus, Mia is coming home soon. She hates it when there is negativity or tension in the household. She can sense when something is off even if no words have been spoken. If we don't sort out our shit, it will fuck with her head. She was already angry at me for abruptly leaving over the summer. It took weeks of texting and calling for her to get back in her good graces. I don't want to rock that boat.

Not to mention, Milo gets overwhelmed when the load piles up. His anxiety takes over, sometimes turning into panic attacks. A twenty-year-old should not have this much on their plate.

Maybe that’s why the texts sounded so urgent.

Shit.

Maybe he is having an attack right now. I need to get home. Now.

I grab my bag and fork over some cash for the check. I provide a measly apology to Janeen about having to run off so quickly. I hug her goodbye, and we promise to see each other over the weekend. Right now, I need to be with my family.

I practically power walk home, making it back in the record time of under five minutes. As soon as my keys turn the lock, I rush inside. Dropping my purse by the stairs, I run up to Milo’s room.

Turning the knob, I push the door open. Milo is sitting on the bed. Both of his hands are intertwined to the back of his head. He is looking down.

“Milo, are you okay?”

He looks up. He is breathing heavily. I have seen that look before. I was right. He is spiraling.

“Shit. Are you having a panic attack?” I reach out, “Do you want to count down?”

I have helped him through so many of these episodes. I know the routine.  Sometimes he can calm down by counting backward from ten. Sometimes it’s a breathing technique. At desperate times it’s a Xanax that does the trick.

Milo’s panic attacks are usually triggered by stress. Particularly stress over Mia and Reid. Something tells me that I am the trigger this time.

Double shit.

He has been worried about me. Maybe he feels guilty about what happened between us. He shouldn't. I was just as responsible. He didn’t force anything on me. I had plenty of opportunities to stop him. I could’ve talked to him. Instead, I ran and caused him to have a panic attack. I am a piece of shit.

“Milo, can you talk to me?”

I see him shaking but he still hasn’t said anything.

“Milo? What—?” I begin again but he stands and erupts out of nowhere.

“What is the matter with you? You think you can keep leaving without notice and I’ll keep letting it go?” His voice shakes with rage. His breathing is still ragged as he tries to calm down.

Before I can respond, Milo grabs me by the arms and gives me a shake.

“Why are you doing this to me, Rave?”

“I am sorry,” is all I can muster.

“No, Rave, that doesn’t cut it anymore,” Milo yells out. “You know how stressful my life is. I thought you of all people wouldn’t cause me stress like that. Instead of talking to me, you run. I have no fucking idea what's going through your head. Do you know how hard that’s been?”

I am overwhelmed with guilt. Guilt over leaving him this summer. Guilt over leaving today. My chest tightens. He is a human with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And I made him worry about me, of all people. I had vowed never to do that. I have to fix this.

“I-I didn’t mean to... I am sorry.”

“Stop saying that. I didn’t expect you of all people to behave like this. I expected you to act with more maturity. I am so disappointed in you, in all of this. I thought we—” Milo shakes his head. “You know what? Just leave. That’s what you do best.”

Those words come as a blow to me. I feel like my knees will give out any minute now, and I am going to fall. This is my worst fear and insecurity with Milo.

The day I moved into this house, I promised myself I would never be the cause of his stress. I wanted to make him proud of me. I wanted to be his support system, just like he was mine. After everything he has done for me, I have become Milo’s source of anguish and anxiety.

I am so disappointed in you, in all of this.

The words ring in my ears as tears sting my eyes. “Please stop,” I whisper. “Me leaving had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

I put a hand on his cheek. I know that soothes him. He immediately freezes and closes his eyes. He covers my hand with one of his own. His hand is still shaking. He is still in full on panic mode. He is breathing heavily, trying to catch oxygen. I know from experience that when his attacks hit, he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Do you want me to grab a Xanax?”

“No.”

I stroke his cheeks with both hands. He pulls my hands from his cheeks, holding them tight. His eyes are bloodshot. He looks like shit.

“Okay. What do you need then?” I can’t stand his pain anymore.

“I only need you right now.”

I look at him for a long moment. Am I reading too much into this? Or does he mean… he can’t mean… can he? I try testing the water. “Okay. Talk to me. What do you need me to do?”

“Be here with me,” Milo whispers and shows me what he wants. Turning my palm, he kisses my pulse. He trails kisses up my arms and grabs my waist with trembling hands.

He can’t be any more clear about what he wants. I just don’t know why he needs me in that way. Why have the dynamics of our relationship changed so suddenly?

I am feeling out of control with confusion. But I can’t deny him, not when he is crumbling. Everything I am is because of him.

I think back to the first day when Milo moved me into this house. My father was so absent-minded, he forgot to pay the utility bill, and left me in a house with no electricity. My phone was dead, and there were no adults in the house. What if an intruder had broken in? I could have been raped, abducted, killed.

If it wasn’t for Milo, all of those things could have happened to me. My negligent parents would have been none the wiser. They still don’t care like Milo does. They haven't even called or texted to check that I made it back safely to New York City. At least I am almost an adult now. Back then, I was a scared little child. A damn proud little child. Milo broke through that. He taught me that it was okay to ask for her help.

He didn’t have to do that for me. He didn’t have to take me in. He didn’t have to become my legal guardian. He was only eighteen, a few months older than I am right now when he became my guardian. I can’t even comprehend being responsible for another human being at this age. The paperwork alone must have been excruciating to get through.

Yet, he did it for me. So maybe I can do this for him. Like I do with everything in my life, I just need to compartmentalize this moment and focus on one objective. And my objective is to “fix” Milo because he sure as hell looks broken. I just need to create and catalog some justifications in my mind, or else I might back down. I think fast and start to list the reasons.

Reason 1: Experience. The extent of my sexual history is limited to a few blowjobs and handjobs with Michel. I can gain more experience and become better, with someone I trust.

Reason 2: Sexual Satisfaction. Piggybacking off of that, Milo is experienced and knows what he is doing. If I am to believe the gossip, he is amazing in bed. My own experience with him so far is reflective of that.

Reason 3: Sexual Empowerment. I am not into slut-shaming. I am all about sexual empowerment. I don’t judge others for their sexual inhibitions, and I don’t have an actual code of principles when it comes to sex. Granted, my current motivation is not exactly empowering or honorable. Maybe I feel guilty, or maybe I feel indebted to Milo. However, Milo is saying he only needs me right now. For the first time in our relationship, I hold all the cards. That's oddly empowering. Sexual empowerment is what I choose to make of it.

Reason 4: Curiosity. I have always been curious about exploring the sexual realm. The only reason I haven’t explored more is simply because I haven’t met anyone that really appealed much to me. No one still does. Maybe I just need a little push, like right now.

My decision is made up by the time Milo’s lips trail down my neck.  In a swift movement, I unbuckle Milo’s belt, unbutton his jeans, and pull down his zipper. I reach inside for his dick to pull it out. Dropping to my knees, I swirl my tongue around his tip and close my mouth over his cock.

“Fuck, Rave.” Milo sounds bewildered. It happened so fast that I don’t think it registered with him till my mouth was on his dick.

“Oh my God. Fuck baby! Oh shit,” Milo is groaning loud enough to be heard in Jersey. I am glad Reid and Mia are not home yet.

One of Milo’s hands land in my hair, tugging restlessly, letting me know exactly what he likes.

“Baby, stop,” Milo suddenly yells. He is still breathing harshly but now it’s for a different reason. I have distracted him enough from his panic attack. “I am gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop.”

I lift my head as Milo lifts me to stand. His expression changes from lust to… a weird look I can’t identify. He frowns and narrows his eyes.

“Where did you learn that?” He sounds surprised.

Should I tell him about Michel? Isn’t there a cardinal rule, don’t talk about other men during intimate moments? Not sure about what to do, I stay quiet.

“Raven, I asked you a question.”

“Umm…”

“You said you haven’t been with anyone before.”

“Yes, I haven’t had sex before.”

“But you have done… that. With someone else.” It was a statement, not a question. So I don’t answer.

Milo’s eyes flare-up. “With who?”

“A guy I dated.”

“You brought a guy here and sucked him off? A few doors down from where I sleep?” Milo’s voice is shaking. I have never heard him so angry.

I am instinctively taken back. Milo grabs one of my arms, refusing to let go till I answer.

Why is he angry? Milo is only twenty. It wasn’t that long ago when he was seventeen. He must know seventeen-year-olds in this city are sexually experienced. He has caught Reid with plenty of girls in his room. At least I am a virgin. I don’t know anyone else my age, who is.

And Milo himself is no saint. Women throw themselves at him. As a result, Milo’s sexual history started earlier than seventeen. He has an extensive list and must have brought girls back here.

Wait! Come to think of it, I have never seen Milo bring a girl to his room. I guess Milo does not approve of Reid bringing girls to his room, and it’s not the precedent he wants to set.

I get it. It feels disrespectful to bring hookups around our sleeping quarters. Not to mention, we risk exposing Mia to that behavior. It must be why Milo has never done it himself, and why he insists that we limit any debauchery to the completely separate apartment downstairs.

“No, I have never brought anyone here.” I try to clarify.

“Where then?”

Is he serious? I wouldn’t dare ask him about his history.

“It was… umm… at his place. This was in Paris.”

Milo leans back like he has been struck.

“What the fuck did you say?” He yells out, “All this time, you were too busy to return my calls and messages. I didn’t send you to Paris to spend your summer on your knees to blow assholes.”

This time I do manage to rip from his hold, shocked. Milo has never spoken to me this way. I don’t know what to think or say. I just gape at him with my mouth wide open. This is not him. Milo speaks rationally, and when he is angry, he usually has a point.

So does he? Does he have a point? I try to assess it from his perspective. If I was to play devil’s advocate, what would I say?

From Milo’s perspective, he gave me a very thoughtful and meaningful gift, a trip to Paris to further my future in fashion design. And in turn, I didn't bother checking with him before I left. I ignored him for months on end, saying I was too busy working at mom's store. Instead, he finds out I was dating, having fun, and getting semi-physical.

It’s clear to him that I wasn’t too busy, I was having fun and dating, while he was worried about what was going on with me. If the tables were turned, I would also be upset. I wouldn’t have verbalized it the way he just did. But I decide not to focus on that.

I try for honesty, plain and simple. “Look, I didn’t know the Paris trip was a preplanned birthday gift. After the night of my party, I-I was embarrassed about what I said,” I say quietly.

This is a perfect time to clear up the whole I love you debacle. At the very least, it will prove or disprove one of my theories of why The Great Milo Sinclair is suddenly interested in me.

Does he feel sorry for me, because I said I loved him? Is he "throwing me a bone" because he feels bad?

I take a deep breath. I know Milo has an ego. All men of his caliber do. It can't sound like rejection, so I word it carefully. “I know you probably didn't read much into it. Nonetheless, when I saw the Paris itinerary the next morning, I thought you were trying to get rid of me because you were irritated by what I said.”

Milo looks surprised, but a realization flickers over his eyes. Like he just put together the answer to a puzzle. I am relieved to see his anger subsiding. I continue. “I really was busy working all summer long. Through work, I met this boy Michel. We dated very casually and later decided to just be friends. I just wanted to try dating. It seemed like what I said to you was misunders..."

I don’t get to finish. Milo comes at me, full of rage and determination. His mouth comes down on me. Hard. One of his hands holds the nape of my neck. He has the same lust crazed expression after I first got back from Paris. His pants are already pulled down since I was blowing him when this conversation started.

He steps out of them completely, at the same time grabbing my bra to unclasp it. I can’t focus. My head is spinning, with his tongue exploring my mouth. I don’t even realize that I have been picked up and dropped on the bed.

With his forehead to mine, Milo whispers, “It doesn't matter. I forgive you. Let's never talk about it again.”

Impatiently, he pulls his shirt over his head, slips my shoes off, and tugs my pants down, skimming his hands over my thong. In one swift movement, he takes hold of my thong and tears it off, tossing it aside. The delicate thong was no match for his super-sized hands.

He moves towards my lower body. “Right now, I just want to taste you,” he breathes against my inner thighs.

I give a little moan as his tongue flicks out to touch me. A little too eagerly, he takes hold of my thighs and moves to guide my legs over his shoulders.

He groans. “God, you taste so good. Even better than I imagined.”

He runs his tongue along my inner lips, kissing and licking before taking a gentle bite. I am nothing but a machine that makes gasping and moaning noises.

Suddenly, Milo moves back up.

No. I want to scream.

He grins at my disappointed face. Milo grabs me by the arms to pull me up. Sitting down, he positions me, so I am straddling his lap. Milo works on taking off my shirt and bra completely. Then he scooches back on the bed and lies down, with me now straddling his stomach. I feel a yank on my hips. I have no choice but to move forward. He yanks again, harder, till I stumble up, onto his chest. Grabbing on to my hips, Milo lifts me and moves my thighs to his face.

My pussy is mere inches from his mouth, ready to ride his face. He places a gentle kiss. His tongue starts at the bottom again and swipes up. This time I gasp out even louder, fingers gripping his hair and pulling as his tongue flicks my nub.

This position is too much. I’m gone within seconds.

His hands are digging into my thighs. My thighs are shaking around his head. He is giving me no option but to explode on him.

“Shit. Shit. Oh God Milo,” I am panting, fully riding his face now.

My fists clench onto his hair harder, pushing him deeper. He is licking me everywhere, nipping, tasting, devouring all of me. He is so deep inside me now that I can feel his tongue in my walls. He grips my hips and pulls me down, his teeth grazing against my entrance.

“Oh, Fuck. Ah…” I choke out a scream, as all of my movement halts. My thighs are quaking, my body is convulsing, and my pussy is pulsing as I come on his mouth.

Milo lowers me down and turns me over to my back, to lie down. I am completely spent. I am shaking, unable to breathe. Milo kisses my breasts, my stomach, my chest. He cups my face with his free hand, and tangles his other hand in my hair, fisting it. His body is covering mine.

He slows grinds against me. We are both naked, and the friction is amazing. Milo starts to rub the head of his cock against my clit. He is going to make me come again. I can feel my pussy pulsing and a tightness gathering in my core. I am completely soaked. I bet the bed sheets are too. My nails are scratching at his back.

“Baby. . .” He is staring at me; his eyes are lusted out even more than before. He latches onto the inside of my thighs, trying to rein himself in.

I am so close. My back is arching. My fingers are gripping his neck. One of his hands slide up my thigh and around to my ass, pulling me closer as he grinds his cock against my slick pussy. I whimper into his mouth.

He dives down, taking one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking it, nibbling on it. He keeps rubbing his dick against my clit as my body tightens. With his mouth still on mine, he presses his cock into my pussy, hitting the right spot, as I thrash.

Crying out, I convulse as ecstasy pulses through me. I have lost all grip on reality.

“God baby, I want to fuck you so bad." Milo grabs hold of his dick and settles into my opening.

Abruptly, Milo lifts off me slightly as he realizes what he just said. “We can wait, if you are not ready,” he hurriedly adds, his eyes searching mine.

I don’t say anything. I didn’t make any mental preparations to have sex today. I wasn’t planning on it. I thought we would do more of what we have been doing so far.

But right now is not the time to say no. I should have cleared that up earlier. I have already allowed the guy to rub his dick against my vagina. So I think this is happening.

Milo is patiently waiting for permission, I think. I nod and wrap my arms around his waist, bringing him back down to me.

I see relief wash over him. He sighs. “I have wanted this for so long.”

Wait, what!

How long has he wanted this? And aren't we supposed to use protection or something?

Milo already knows I am on birth control for my period cramps. He is the one who took me to the doctors, and he is the one who picks them up for me. My only concern would be the notches on his belt.

“I am clean,” he breathes into my ear as if reading my mind. He plants soft kisses all over my face and keeps rubbing his dick up and down my slit.

I hold my breath. I know this is going to hurt.

Again, right on cue, Milo reads my mind. “Baby, this is going to hurt.”

No shit Sherlock. I already know how big Milo is. I could barely fit him in my mouth. My guess is this is going to hurt more than the normal allocated amount.

He strokes my hair. “But if you tense up, it will hurt more. Just try to relax and let me in. I promise I will be gentle. If it’s too much, tell me. I can stop.”

I nod.

Slowly and gently, I feel him moving into me. But he doesn’t enter, just slides back and forth. Milo twirls his tongue around on my neck, on the spot that makes me moan.

Suddenly I am glad that it’s him. I don’t know if other guys would have known to give me that assurance or known to give a distraction during the pain. I try to relax my muscles, breathing in and out, trying to let go. At the same moment, he slips a little inside me.

Holy fuck, that’s painful.

I immediately tense even more and grab onto his shoulders. All the relaxation is gone.

Ouch.

“It’ll be worse if I keep inching in. Try to breathe. Focus on me. I am here.” I am just about to tell him to stop when he slams inside.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Fuck!” I whimper like a hurt feral animal. I knew it was going to be painful but holy motherfucker. My insides are burning. My face is scrunched up. I am clawing at his shoulders, enough to leave scratches.

This sucks.

“I am so sorry, baby,” Milo has a genuinely pained look on his face. “There is no way around the pain. Try to relax into it. It will hurt less if you do.” He holds perfectly still, letting me get used to his size.

He kisses me all over my face and neck, licking and sucking, I think to distract me from the pain. He whispers sweet nothings into my ears.

"You are so beautiful."

"You blow my mind."

"You are amazingly talented."

"I am in awe of you, Raven."

"I have never met anyone like you."

Even as he is inside me, I am a sucker for his compliments. It distracts me from the pain. I forget about the burning sensation and moan as he sucks on my ear lobe.

“Baby, I am going to move now. Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he whispers in my ear.

“Okay,” I can barely choke out, already dreading this.

He pulls back just a little. Ouch Ouch Ouch. My walls are burning as he moves.

He gently slides back in, studying my face. I am sure he can see how miserable I am. From the pained look on his face, I can tell he is doing everything he can to hold back. He waits and repeats. After a few moments, he finds a gentle rhythm.

Slowly, I can feel his crescendo building. He looks really far gone, breathing heavily and panting. I don’t think he wants to hold back, but he is controlling himself. I want the pain to end.

Reid and I have watched porn together, like we do everything else together. I have seen enough porn to know that a guy can climax during sex if he can speed up a bit.

I slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to encourage him to speed up. Milo starts to increase his tempo. I brace myself against him by putting my head in the hollow of his neck. I want him to finish, but I don’t want him to stop if he sees my pained expression.

I dig my fingers in his back and hold onto him, as painful tears seep out of my eyes. After a few thrusts, I feel Milo’s hands fisting into my hair, and his body clamping up.

“Fuck,” Milo roars out.

I feel a warmth spreading in my belly, and I know he came inside me. I am not comfortable with that. But again, I should have said something earlier.

He slowly pulls out as I flinch, and collapses on top of me. One of his hands is still wrapped around my waist.

He is breathing on my cheek and absentmindedly kissing my cheek every so often. I have never felt so close to Milo. Is this what sex does? Bring people this level of intimacy.

I feel unsure of what we did. But a sick part of me, the one that always craves his attention, is happy for this level of closeness. The one that can only be attained through physical intimacy.

Eventually Milo stirs and kisses me on the neck. He shifts to my side, arms still around me, and pulls me in with my back to his front.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

“That was amazing,” He murmurs in my hair. “I have never experienced anything like that. It was the only thing that could’ve calmed me down today. Thank you.” He kisses my temple. “You are so amazing.” He grabs my hand and kisses each one of my fingers.

“I am?”

Argh. Yes, I hear it. I am still fishing for compliments. I just gave up my virginity. Do I expect him to say that I am not amazing? I need to see a therapist.

The problem is, I would have to ask Milo to take me. How awkward would that be? To ask to be taken to a head doctor right after we have sex.

“You are. And so much more.” He kisses me on my cheek and then my temple. “I know it wasn’t the same experience for you. I know it hurts. It will be uncomfortable the first few times. But I promise it will be amazing after that.”

I thought this was a one time. Why is Milo talking like this will happen again?

Shit.

I should have known better.

Milo doesn’t do one-night stands. He is way too paranoid about diseases to do random hookups. At least remembering that little fact puts me at ease about him being clean.

Plus, Milo believes that one-night stands don’t result in good sex. People need time to learn each other’s bodies, so they can play each other like a marionette. Or so I have heard from his groupies.

If Milo does meet someone he is attracted to, he lets them know that he can only offer friendship or casual dating with no strings attached. He is nice and respectful to the girls. I have talked to enough of them to know. They engage in a mutually beneficial relationship, resulting in sexual satisfaction for a while.

Once either of them gets bored, which usually means that once Milo is bored, there is an honest conversation. They end the physical aspect and remain friends. Or sometimes they drift apart.

He expects the same from me.

My heart sinks. I thought, at the very least, my sick desire for closeness with Milo was being fulfilled through sex. It made me feel special, knowing only I got to feel this closeness with him.

I don’t even get that. He has shared this post-orgasm closeness with lots of other women. Some of whom are his closest friends. He wants me the same way he wants them. Friendship with sex, and then back to being friends. He will leave me as soon as he is done with me. Nothing about that makes me special to him or different from the others. I feel so stupid.

I gave up my virginity in an unsure moment. I broke Reid’s trust. I don’t feel closer to Milo. And my vagina hurts so much that I want to rip it out. Despite the few orgasms, this wasn’t worth it.

I can feel his eyes getting heavy beside me. My own are tearing up with my rampant emotions.

Maybe this is why people don’t take sex or giving up their virginity so lightly. I wish I waited till I was completely sure.

Sex is bringing up a vulnerability in me like I have never experienced before. Now I understand why sex complicates things. The physical affects the emotional. I try to scoot away from Milo to make my way to my room.

“Where are you going?” Milo’s hold on me immediately tightens.

“To my room.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Sleep here with me,” he states as a finality. Softly kissing my temple, he drags me back to his arms.

“Umm… I want to take a shower and get in my PJs. I also want to call my parents.”

“I have an attached bathroom with everything you need for a shower.” He points to his bathroom door. “You can sleep in my boxer shorts and a tee. Or any of my other clothes.” He points to his dresser. “My phone has an international plan if you want to call your parents.” He points at his phone.

I don't say the real reason I shouldn't sleep here. Reid didn’t share his flight details. But I know that he is coming home at some point tomorrow. If I stay here we might get caught by Reid in the morning. Milo knows that as well.

Just earlier, Milo was irritated about any potential hookups I might have brought here. Even if we are not bringing random hookups home, hooking up here seems hypocritical. Not to mention that Reid will probably throw the biggest shit storm.

Milo turns me over to my back. He is propped up on his side, eyes roaming my face as if he is searching for my response. I think he can feel my defiance through my body language.

“We are sleeping together,” he clarifies. “Either here or in your room.”

I wonder if this is another ego thing. Beautiful models have sex with him. I am sure they will happily sleep through the night with him. And I don’t want to. Is this just about his bruised ego?

It doesn’t make any sense. Since I got back I have met a different Milo. Someone borrowing his skin, his shell. The insides and personalities are completely different. Milo is self-sacrificing. He prioritizes others. This is not him. Milo would never hurt Reid’s feelings, just because of his pride.

“We can sleep here,” I sigh. If he is not giving me a choice, I choose to sleep here.

There are six bedrooms in this house. After his parents left, Milo took the master bedroom, which stands on its own on the farthest side of the house. It’s the most private.

“Good.” Milo kisses my shoulder and trails his lips on my upper arms. “I will join you, if you still want to take that shower?”

Dread builds inside me. I do want to take a shower. I feel sticky, and I am pretty sure I bled a little. I have an urge to clean up. But something tells me that Milo expects sex with his proposal of a shower together. The thought alone keeps me pinned on the bed.

“I am kind of tired now. Can I get a shirt to sleep in?”

Milo gets up and brings me one of his sleeping shirts. It’s long enough to go down to my thighs. I put it on and go to the bathroom to clean up what I can, without having to shower.

Milo is standing by the bed, completely naked, his eyes are fixed on me as I walk to the bathroom. When I turn to close the bathroom door, I catch the way he is looking at me—darkened lustful eyes, looking unbelievably hungry.

I hurriedly close the bathroom door, not giving any chance to open that Pandora's box again. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to go to sleep in my bed, away from Milo.

And around midnight, that’s exactly what I do.

Milo is asleep when I tiptoe back. He has been on edge since I got home. And I don’t think my defiance will help the situation.

However, I just gave up my virginity and slept with the only man I shouldn’t have. I am an emotional wreck and in physical pain. I have earned the right to take a hot shower by myself, sleep in my clothes, and in my own damn bed.

-----------

Milo

I wake up without that beautiful girl wrapped around my arms. Again. It takes about a second for my eyes to adjust. But I didn’t need the lights on to feel Raven’s missing warmth. I blink as I orient myself and gather my wits.

Memories of last night wash over me. A smile forms on my lips as I think about it. Raven lost her virginity to me. We experienced a moment of perfect togetherness. Just her and I. The way it was always supposed to be.

I didn’t plan for us to have sex last night. When I told her I needed her, I meant being with her, holding her, feeling her close. But after she told me about some guy in Paris, it snapped me out of my noble intentions. The moment she admitted to blowing some fucker in Paris, I threw caution to the wind. Pure animal instincts took over as if needing to fill my female mate with my own seed. I dragged her to bed with an immediate need to mark myself on her.

Anger courses through me at the thought of her with that asshole. She told me she loved me. We kissed. Then she left without talking to me and blew some guy in Europe while I was pining for her.

She hurt me. Bad.

I told her I forgave her. In turn, she left me in the middle of the night. I slam my hand onto my bed. I find myself annoyed, aggravated, and angry yet again.

I am angry at Raven for always avoiding conflict. I am angry at myself for having no control left when it comes to her. I am supposed to be taking care of her, not fucking her. Most of all, I am angry that Raven was hooking up with some douchebag in Paris.

Imagining Raven with another guy fucks up my mood entirely from last night’s bliss.

What was I thinking? Why did I think she was responsible enough to go to Paris with an absentee parent like Theressa? I was her age only a few years ago. I know what goes on in a seventeen-year-old’s mind—all the hormones. Why the fuck did I think Raven was above that? I gave her too much credit.

I'm landing in a pile of anger and jealousy. I know it. Unable to help myself, I take out my phone. I forced myself not to stalk her on social media while she was in Paris. But now it's no holds barred. I go to her Facebook page to look through her photos from over the summer.

And there he is. Some Michel fucker with his arms draped around Raven. My Raven. This was just three weeks ago. Jesus, I’m going to lose it. She was blowing this douchebag only three weeks ago.

Fuck!

I look through his profile. He is my age, which means experienced. She put her mouth on his dick, and God knows what else they did. I should have been the first one she did that to. The only one, in fact. He took what was fucking mine. I toss the phone on the bed and lie back, throwing an arm over my face. I am beyond livid.

I try to reason with myself. I gave her an open-ended plane ticket after she said she loves me. I can see why she thought I was trying to get rid of her because I couldn’t handle her feelings. As if I haven't already been handling her feelings for years.

Either way, dating other people was supposed to be the right decision. We were both supposed to move on during the summer.

Except, I didn’t move on from her. I couldn’t even look at another girl. Raven obviously had no problems in that department.

I told her I forgave her. I want to believe that. But I am so angry. Raven could have at least talked to me before making all of these assumptions. Instead, she blew me off, while she literally blew this asshole.

We already have a long list of reasons why we shouldn’t be together. I will probably go to hell for what I did with her last night. Now I have to add trust issues to the list of reasons why we shouldn’t be together.

Even as I point out all the flaws of us being together, deep down, I know none of those reasons will stop me. After last night, my obsession has risen to a whole new level. I got a taste of what I have been craving for years. And now I have become a mad man. It took everything in me last night to not follow her in the bathroom and fuck her again.

I will not let her find another douchebag and move on. She must feel the same. Raven is strong; she is no pushover. She has no problems saying "no" to men. I have seen it plenty of times. She would not have given up her virginity to me if she didn't feel the same uncontrollable pull we have towards each other. She obviously didn't go all the way with Michel for a reason. She was waiting for me. I know she was.

I look at the clock. It’s five am. I don’t know when she snuck back, but I am not giving her a chance to run out of the house again and avoid me all day. We need to talk. I just wish I knew how to reach her. She is impossible to force a conversation out of before she is ready.

I stay in bed for a while longer, contemplating what to do. Finally, I see the sun peaking out. Putting on a tee shirt and sweatpants, I walk to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The house is eerily quiet as I walk to Raven’s room.

“Rave, I made breakfast.” Trying my best to sound normal, I knock on her door.

“Oh, okay. Thanks. Be right there.” I sigh a relief. At least she is still here.

I set the table for breakfast and find Raven walking into the kitchen. Her expression is unreadable. She is freshly showered and looks breathtaking, as always.

She is in a casual white tank top and sweatpants. Yet, it does more for me than any high-end lingerie some of the girls have thrown my way.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”

I pour two cups of coffee, as Raven takes charge of stacking eggs and pancakes on to our plates. I watch her out of the corner of my eyes.

“So… the fashion show in Paris went well? You are a big shot designer now. Are you going to remember us peasants when you are at the top?” I try to keep it light.

“Big shot? I think I am a micro-shot at best.” She sounds casual as well, trying for humor.

“Everyone needs a start. Do you get recognition as the designer of the dress?”

“Before I left for New York, Mom said that I do, and I get a small cut for any of the “Its so Raven” dress sales.”

“Hah! So you really are a big shot designer.” I continue our banter. I don’t know if my voice matches my nerves. “Will you be taking me out on a fancy date, now that you are a baller?”

“Ummm…” Raven tucks her hair behind her ear. Shit, too far. I have to switch gears.

“Did your mom like any of your other designs?”

Raven takes a sip of her coffee as she devours her food. “I haven’t shown her the other ones.”

“How come?”

“It never crossed my mind."

“You should.”

Raven nods.

I try to keep the conversation going. “Did you call your mom to let her know that you reached New York?”

“Ya, but she didn’t pick up. I texted her this morning.”

“And Uncle John?”

“I called him too. He has a virtual assistant now, who deals with his messages. She said he would return my call after work."

“Reid mentioned you went to see him this summer. How was the visit to South Africa?

“It was incredible and eye-opening. Dad helps a lot of people. It was really moving, and he was really attentive throughout the visit.”

I don’t respond. I love Uncle John. I do. But he has failed his daughter. In the last four years, he has shown no interest in his daughter’s well-being. I would hate for her to get her hopes up after one visit.

As if she can read my apprehension, Raven says, “And when I got back to Paris, he still kept in touch regularly. He has been great lately."

I nod but stay quiet. I don’t have the heart to tell her that Uncle John probably called her frequently because she was near Theressa. He still has a weird obsession with his ex-wife.

Ironic, because I have a weird obsession with his daughter. This is why it angers me that Uncle John can make his only daughter feel so unwanted.

Raven grabs another forkful of pancakes. Suddenly thoughts of Uncle John disappear as I stare at her perfect mouth, unable to tear my eyes away. As if she can sense my change in direction, Raven pushes her plate away and stands up. “I am gonna go back to sleep. I am still jet-lagged. Can I help you clean up later?”

“Don’t worry about it. I can clean up. Go, rest.”

I stare behind Raven. She is still a flight risk and clearly uncomfortable talking about what’s going on between us. She needs more time to process.

As for myself, I don’t want to process anything. I can’t think rationally. I am just shaking with my need for her. After last night, I don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore.

Well, I do. But I am not sure if it will stop me.

The rest of the day passes in a blur for me. I meet with Asher, Jaci, Alexa, and Brandon, to discuss our next investor meetings. I wrap up and come home by five pm.

The door to Raven's room is still closed shut. It seems like Raven has stayed locked in her room all day. I whip up some dinner and wait as long as I can to knock on her door. I gave her space all day long—breathing room, time to think about it. I’ve been patient, especially after what I went through this summer. I can’t stay away anymore. We can at least have dinner together.

“Rave!” I knock on her door, as I push it open.

“Yea?” Raven is at her desk. It looks like she was fumbling with her phone. She is not in bed, but she does not look lucid and ready to take on the day either. She is wearing sleeping shorts and a casual tank top.

“I made dinner. Have you eaten anything since breakfast?”

“No. I didn’t realize it got so late.”

“Have you been in bed all day?” I wave towards her bed, wondering why I didn’t stay in bed with her.

Raven looks at me for a long while. “I tried. I couldn’t sleep. I have been trying to get in touch with dad, but the calls are not connecting.”

I don’t say anything, even though I want to. In this scenario it’s best to stay quiet.

My eyes stay fixed on her, as Raven walks towards the charging dock, presumably to charge her phone. Even the gentle sway of her hip and the way she walks is captivating. I can’t stop watching her. I can’t stop wanting to be near her. To smell her. Cover her with my own smell.

I move without direction. She turns. We find each other locked in a staring contest.

Raven doesn't say anything, gives nothing away with her expression. I gently brush the hair out of her face, my fingers lingering in her hair as I play with it. Once more, all my thoughts have evaporated.

Before she can react, I pull her towards me and seal my mouth over hers. She is faster to reciprocate this time, tongue swirling with mine.

After another few minutes of rough kissing, I pull away. We are both panting hard. This was not my plan. Not by far. I wanted to talk to her tonight. But an uncontrollable, insatiable hunger has taken over. A hunger only she can feed.

I have waited years for her. Now that I have had her, I can’t stop. I start to kiss her frantically, with one hand cupping her chin and the other on her waist. I greedily explore her mouth and moan as her tongue readily strokes me back.

I dip my head to lick her jaw, trailing down to her neck. Running a thumb down her bare arm, I feel her goosebumps all over. This is it; this is everything.

I slowly drop my hand between us and slip my fingers inside her shorts. My hands caress her. I play with the edge of her panties, without actually slipping my fingers in. I proceed slowly to allow her to stop me.

Raven is looking at me, wide-eyed. I wait for an indication, as my fingers linger on the edge of her panties, ready to feel her bare pussy. I rub her one more time and hear Raven moan out softly, as she throws her head back.

That’s all I needed. I slip my fingers in and find her clit.

“Ahhhh...” Raven moans again, this time much louder than before. Her back is arched; her hands pressed to my shoulders. She is already dripping wet for me.

I keep my eyes trained on her. I finger her, all the while my mouth is kissing and licking her. I make my way down her breast. Without breaking eye contact, I grab her top and one of her bra cups with one hand, and move them down, exposing her tits. My mouth moves to the top of her breast, nibbling the skin.

My hand softly squeezes her breast. I inch down to her nipple, licking and sucking as I go. She is breathing so heavily that I can hear every pulse and heartbeat. Once I reach her nipple, I flick it gently. I run my tongue and thumb over her hard nipple. She shudders a bit, so I do it again, and then again.

I start to suck on one of her nipples, hollowing out my cheeks. Her mouth is slightly parted, her pupils are dilated. I can feel her legs quivering. I come back to cover her face with soft kisses. Suddenly I want nothing more than to watch her come. I need to watch her fall apart in my arms.

I suspend her in the air and walk us to the bed, all the while kissing her. I kick my shoes off and lower her on the bed, gently pushing her down.

I grab onto the waistband of her shorts and pull them down her legs, taking her underwear with it. I pull her tank top over her head, unclasping her bra.

Fuck me! I have never seen anything so perfect. Starting from her neck, I kiss every single part of her body. Licking, tasting, and sucking on her perfect skin. Reaching her abdomen, I lick my way down. Raven shudders under me.

Once I get close enough to her pussy, I look up. Raven lifts her head to look down at me. She still hasn’t said anything, just looks bewildered. I press a kiss on her pussy. Stroking her slit with my finger, I slowly lick her entire opening. Holy wetness.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” I can barely choke out words. “So… fucking… good.” I stutter out in between licks.

Raven closes her eyes, her head falling back. “Oh my God,” Raven’s hair is spread on the pillow, her back is arched. I explore her greedily, lapping her with my tongue. I keep licking her nub and start to stab my tongue inside her.

Raven is writhing underneath me. She squirms and then grabs my hair. I keep the assault up with my tongue till I hear a roaring rip out from her.

“Oh fuck… I am coming. Oh my God. Fuuuccckkk!" Raven climaxes. I grin, still licking her and letting her stretch out her orgasm.

As Raven comes down from her orgasm, I kiss her inner thigh, her belly, her breasts, her neck, and finally, her pouty lips. She kisses me back. Hard. This is how it was always supposed to be.

I pull her to me as Raven rests her head on my chest. She is still breathing heavily. Other than that, both of us are quiet.

“Do you want to…” Raven starts.

“No, you are still going to be sore. I am fine. I just want to hold you.” And I really do. I shift my erection. I might be hard as hell, but right now, I am content enjoying the view.

The exhaustion from the orgasm, along with the jet lag, is taking hold of her. And I see her eyelids growing heavy. Within minutes she is asleep in my arms.

I smile down at her and kiss her hair. After months of mental torture and insomniac nights, I have finally found peace. I undress down to my boxers, pull her back close, and slip into the same dream world with her.

-----------

Raven

I wake up from the sound of a loud thud. Maybe an hour has passed or maybe five. I have no concept of time or how long we have been sleeping.

I hear the thud again. Milo is still holding me, fast asleep. I shake him, trying to jolt him awake.

“Milo.”

“Hmmm.”

“Milo, wake up.”

“Wassup?”

“I heard something.”

“It’s nothin.” Milo sounds groggy.

“Milo, Wake. Up. I heard someone. I think someone broke in.”

“What?” That finally gets his attention, as he jumps up and starts dressing. “Do you have a bat lying around or anything heavy?”

I think on my feet as I start dressing as well. “There is a glass bottle on top of my dresser. You can probably smash...”

“Hello! Anyone home?” I hear Reid’s unmistakable voice carry through the hallway. This is my worst nightmare. Now I wish it were an intruder instead.

“Shit,” I whisper. “You need to leave.”

Milo glares at me.

“Milo, you need to go to your room.”

“No,” he says curtly.

Does he want his little brother to find us like this? I don’t know what to do. I can hear Reid moving around the house. If Reid comes in here… this scene looks bad. Because it is bad.

I straighten my clothes and run towards the door. If Milo won’t leave, I will. I have to find Reid before he comes here looking for me. Trying to act as casual as I can, I walk down the stairs.

“Hello, stud. I see someone found their way out of Paris.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

I jump into Reid’s open arms for a hug as he lifts me up into the air. “How was your flight?”

“So fucking long. I am beat.”

I hear Milo coming down the stairs as well. I can’t turn around to face him.

“Hey scamp.” Milo comes around to hug Reid, completely ignoring me.

“If I am a scamp then you are an old man.”

“I like being an old man.” Milo points towards himself. “You hungry? I made dinner, but Rave and I never got around to it.”

Was that an innocent comment or a backhanded one? I don’t know what’s going on with Milo.

All three of us sit down for dinner. Deciding to focus on Reid instead of Milo, I try to shut down my brain. Throughout dinner, I do my best to act normal, laughing and joking, teasing Reid.

Inside, I am nothing but a mix of turmoil and chaos.

CHAPTER 6

September 7th, 2015

-----------

Raven

It’s Labor Day. True to Sinclair family tradition, there is a full-blown all-day barbecue in effect. We are all piled into the kitchen and patio area.

Usually, Milo insists that our parties stay contained downstairs. This rule is to remain in place till every member of the family is sixteen years old, which basically means until Mia turns sixteen. As if that is the magical age to become a responsible partygoer.

But one day a year, on Labor Day, Milo allows guests to roam free in the house. After all, it’s just a barbecue during the day. Not as threatening with acts of debaucheries that will affect his impressionable younger sister.

Like every year, we have invited neighbors, school friends, family friends, and Milo’s college friends. He has more friends than Reid, Mia, and I combined.

Everybody loves him and everyone looks up to him. I don’t know one person who dislikes Milo. His easy-going vibe makes his presence extremely attractive. My heart swells with pride when I think of the person that he is. He is also going to be hugely successful once his app launches next year. As if he needed more bait. As if anyone ever had the power to resist his charm.

Including myself, apparently.

I haven’t yet wrapped my mind around the loss of my innocence to Milo. Luckily, Reid came home the very next night. It was a much-needed distraction.

The night Reid got home, we stayed up all night playing video games. And the very next day, we left for the Hamptons. Janeen's family owns a house in the Hamptons and allowed her to invite a bunch of her school friends. I spent some much-needed time away from the city, allowing me an escape from my new reality – that I was deflowered by Milo.

We came back, the same day Mia came home. I missed her so much. There is an emptiness in the house when she is gone. Now, the house is full of life again. The moment she stepped in, somehow, this inanimate brick and mortar came alive.

Since she got home, she insisted that we spend every waking and sleeping moment together. We spent the week visiting all of our favorite New York City spots. Mia apparently needed to be re-acquainted with city life after being “locked away” on an island.

Her first night back, she insisted that all four of us have a slumber party in my room. She has both her brothers and me wrapped around her little finger. So we all gave in. Mia and I bunked on the bed, with the boys in sleeping bags on the floor. We cuddled, ate popcorn, watched crappy movies. There was so much teasing, jesting, catching up, sibling love. It was a connection we lost over the summer. One that I missed so much.

The night was magical, reminding me of simpler times. Everything was so normal, I almost felt like this thing with Milo never happened. Like I imagined it. Or maybe it's all a big misunderstanding.

Milo showed no signs of awkwardness or indications that anything had happened between us. He was utterly casual—up until he grabbed me for a breath-stealing kiss the moment Reid and Mia went downstairs in search of more snacks.

He let me go before they walked in, never uttering a single word to me. He went right back to being cool, calm, and collected. I had whiplash. Did that really happen? I was losing my grip on reality.

So when Mia woke me up early the next morning and dragged me out of bed for a girl's day, I did not mind. I needed an escape from my own mind. Mia is the only one loud enough to speak over the voice in my head. She is pure, honest, and wears her heart on her sleeves. It’s infectious. I don’t make bullet points in my mind or over-analyze when I talk to her.

This is not a dig at her intelligence or depth. It’s a good thing. She is a muscle relaxer, relaxing my tense brain muscles. And I needed her badly to feel sane again.

So I did not complain when she insisted on sticking by my side all week. I did not complain when we spent hours getting mani-pedis, makeovers, shopping. I did not complain when she wanted to have a slumber party every night to make up for the last four months. Face masks, girly movies, popcorn, staying up late, gossip. Bring it all on.

But my grip on reality started to loosen again when I caught Milo pushing the door open late at night the first time Mia slept over. I knew why he was there. But he didn’t expect Mia to be. Mia frowned at him and gave him a “Girls only, out please,” sass comment. He mumbled, “Why are the lights still on? It’s bedtime,” before heading back.

He came to my room almost every night only to find Mia sleeping in my bed. He'd leave without making a peep, but I could feel the look on his face. Impatient, and hanging by a thread.

And today, I have felt his eyes on me all day. Like he can’t wait one more second.

I should be flattered. Milo is the ultimate catch. Every girl my age would die to be with someone like him. Every girl his age would die to be with him. Or kill each other to be with him. Milo is the definition of the perfect man; men want to be him, and women want to be with him.

Yet, I have found myself avoiding being alone with him.

As always, I love Milo when we are all together, watching movies and having family dinners. I haven’t decided how I feel about the new Milo when he is just with me. Since I got back from Paris, there is a dark cloud surrounding us whenever we are alone.

A darkness that has no place or relevance, with the rest of Milo’s identity. It's causing his mood to be volatile, impatient, sexually charged. He feels like a ticking time bomb.

Chugging back my remaining red wine, I try to relax my nerves and push these thoughts back. I bring myself back to the party and focus on the conversation in front of me.

“... especially the heat. That was the worst.” Mia wraps up whatever lecture she was giving to the small crowd around us about why Grand Cayman is hell on earth.

I wasn’t listening. I didn’t need to. Mia has been complaining about Grand Cayman ever since she got back. Suffice it to say, she did not have a good summer. My guess? Her dissatisfaction had nothing to do with the island itself, and everything to do with Uncle Reese hiring a nanny to take care of Mia while he worked. None of us were there to keep her company either. I feel for her.

“Jeez Mia, how horrible for you. You got to spend a summer in paradise.” Reid teases.

Mia huffs. “If it’s such a paradise, why don’t you go there next summer and I will go to Paris?”

Asher laughs at Mia’s sass. “That’s a great idea,” he chimes in. “Maybe we can take a group trip to Grand Cayman next summer and stay at the Sinclair beach house for free.” He raises his beer bottle to clink with Reid’s.

Asher Huntzberger is here tonight. He is one of our family friends. He is also the first boy I kissed. A few times, to be exact. Throughout the years, we have remained good friends.

“And we will ship Mia off to Paris. You can be slave labor for Theressa.” Reid grins ear to ear. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“That’s fine. I will get free Theressa Beckett Specials, while you fuckers fry in the heat with sand in your ass.” Not one to back down, Mia drives her point home.

“Language.” Milo chides, as he joins the conversation. “And no one is wearing Theressa Beckett Specials.”

“You said bad words when you were my age,” Mia pouts and complains. “And Raven wears Theressa Beckett Specials.”

“Hey asshole,” I elbow Mia, “way to throw me under the bus.”

“Ladies, please. Language. Show some decorum.” Milo’s exasperated attempts to discipline us are met with a round of laughter.

See? It's the Milo I love. How can you not?

“And why the fuck should we show decorum, just because we are ladies?” Alexa challenges. I always liked that girl. A huge feminist at heart, she is never one to let something like this go.

Milo puts his hands up in surrender. “Everyone should show decorum. But since I joined this conversation, only the ladies have dropped f-bombs and curse words.”

“Yea, son, ‘cause we men got decorum.” Asher booms out.

“Decorum for men.” Reid eggs him on. He swings an arm around me and pulls me into a one-handed hug. “Not to mention Alexa, Milo is allowing you out of your cage for this barbecue under the condition that you don’t corrupt our baby sister. If you don’t want to go back to the basement, keep the language clean.”

Alexa is a close friend of Milo’s, who also used to be his fuck buddy. Despite fucking him, I never saw her upstairs or in his room. And when their intimate relationship ended, Milo moved on without peril, while Alexa was a wreck for quite a while.

I guess he replaced her with me. Except everyone knew about Alexa, and no one knows about us. That thought alone makes me feel dirty. Suddenly, I feel camaraderie with Alexa.

“Look who's talking?” I narrow my eyes at Reid. “Your potty mouth alone should get you locked up for a month, away from us impressionable ladies.”

“Nope! ‘Cause I got decorum.” Reid straightens his posture and waves his hand, like a Miss Universe contestant, greeting the crowd.

We all fall into giggles. And the day passes by with natural nonsense conversations with old friends, catching up, lots of food, lots of drinks. A few hours later, I head back to the living room to watch TV, needing a break from the socialization. Suddenly I feel an arm grabbing at my elbow. I whip my head in that direction.

Milo.

There is an intensity in his eyes like he is vibrating with violent energy. And all I can do is stare back like deer in headlights. He flexes his fingers and pulls me by my elbow. Without a word, Milo rushes us up the stairs, charging towards his room. I can barely keep up or catch my breath. He moves us into the room and immediately locks the door behind him.

We are alone. And in his room.

-----------

Milo

One week. I have barely had any contact with Raven for a whole week. This is the first time that Mia is not attached to her hip. Did she really think a houseful of people was going to stop me from taking advantage of that?

Reid was finally over his dose of Raven when Mia came into the picture. My siblings are so fucking annoying. After spending a frustrating amount of time being joint at the hip with Raven, Mia also insisted on sleeping in Raven’s bed every single night. I seriously considered shipping Mia off to boarding school. No joke. I looked up options online. For Christ's sake, she is worse than Reid.

What is with all of us Sinclair siblings and our fascination with Raven?

Almost every night, or every opportunity I had, I tried to grab Raven's attention. We still haven’t talked about us. I just know that I have become a mad man. I want to be around her all the time.

All day today, I have felt like a ticking time bomb, about to go off any second. When I finally saw that Raven was alone, I came at her like a wild beast. Manhandled her in a complete caveman style. We finally had sex, and then nothing for days. No conversation. No contact. My insides are about to explode with my need for her.

“Milo, what—”

Before she can finish her sentence, I swoop her with one arm and push her up against the bedroom door, covering her lips with mine. I press my body as close to her as possible, kissing her desperately, devouring her with my mouth. I can’t stop even if I wanted to. I am sure she can feel how hard I already am.

I have to remind myself to let the girl breathe. I pull away every so often when I can force myself to. The moment I see her take in a sharp breath in, I am back on her mouth for more. It feels like an eternity since I kissed her.

There is a maddening desire in me to cover her with all of me, surround her, be all over her. Suffocate her with my very body. I grab onto her thighs and lift her up. My groin presses right into her, as my hands spread her ass cheeks wide. I kiss her, and I grind her into the door like I am about to fall apart at any moment. Unbuttoning her pants, I insert two fingers inside.

“Are you still sore? Does this hurt?” I am panting, barely able to say the words.

“Wha-- N-No.”

I sigh a relief. Every one of my muscles is tense from my lust high, not to be subsided until I am inside her again. Moving her off the door, I carry Raven to my bed. I don’t give two flying fucks about who is here. I don’t know why I invited these people to my house. Why are we even having this stupid party? I want everyone out, including my siblings. Nothing matters, other than this.

As if she had the same thought, Raven spits out, “Wait. There are people in the house.”

“I don’t care,” because I really don’t.

As I start working the buttons of her shirt, Raven tries her feeble protests again. “What if Reid or Mia come here, looking for you?”

“Rave, I fucking need you,” I moan desperately. “I can’t wait, not for another second. No one’s stopping this. Not even you. Now take my fucking shirt off.” I growl as I rip her bra off.

I have lost all finesse. I fumble with her zipper and slide her pants down her thighs, taking her panties with it. Raven has barely gotten my shirt off. Impatient with her slow fingers, I unbuckle my jeans to expedite the process. I keep chanting a mantra to slow down. We only had sex once, so it's still going to be uncomfortable for her. I can’t drive into her the way I want to right now, with manic force.

I have to calm myself down. I want her to enjoy sex, but she is not going to come during vaginal sex for the first few times. I have to find other ways to make it pleasurable for her.

Pushing her gently down on the mattress, I start by kissing the pulse on her neck. I slide my tongue around and suck. I can already feel her chest heaving, rising and falling slowly. I trail my tongue and, with biting kisses move down to her perfect breast, perky and full in my hands.

Lapping my tongue around, I slowly close my mouth on her nipple. I know the sensation is sometimes unbearable. A little painful but sensitive enough to make your toes curl. I nibble and lick, and can feel Raven vibrating under me like she can’t take it anymore

I stop torturing her and, without any more build up, move my mouth straight to her cunt with a grazing bite.

“Ah,” Raven’s body jerks.

Starting from all the way down, I give her a painfully slow lick. Slowly sucking on lips. Raven reflexively arches her back, pushing her opening closer towards my mouth, giving me more access.

Raven is staring at me. There is a primal look on her face that wasn’t there just a minute ago. All thoughts of the guests downstairs are gone. She is with me now and waiting for my next move. As if to appease her, I flick her nub lightly. And suck on it.

“Milo,” Raven gasps, and fists my hair immediately. Her thighs are jerking, and her pussy is throbbing against my tongue.

God, I needed this contact. We both did from the sound of it.

I press my tongue down hard and just start licking, leaving no room for air or space between my tongue and her cunt. Listening to her moans, I try to find her sweet spot. When I hit a spot that makes Raven’s back arch, I start licking harder. Punishingly hard, giving her no choice but to come for me. Her body starts to tremble, and she starts thrusting against my tongue.

“Oh God,” Raven whimpers.

“I missed this,” I breathe, which apparently allowed too much space between my tongue and her pussy. Raven immediately yanks at my hair and pushes my face down. Like she will lose her climax if I take a break. Like she can’t wait for a second longer.

I love it. She is so needy for me. She is dripping, riding my tongue, completely insatiable. I don’t deny her. Increasing my tempo, I start driving it home, as Raven grinds into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck. I am coming,” Raven moans out as she orgasms.

Her head is still thrashing, so I don’t stop. I keep licking her through her orgasm. I blast up to her, pushing myself forward with my knees on the bed, till my throbbing cock finds her cunt.

“Ah...” Raven’s voice waivers. She is still coming as I rub the head of my dick on her clit.

As she starts to steady her breaths, I slowly slide in. Her natural lubrication is allowing much easier access this time. Nonetheless, I have to fist her hair for control, so I don’t slam inside. Inch by inch, I expand and stretch inside her, till I am all the way in.

“Fuck.”

I am inside her.

Inside Raven.

My Raven.

“Oh, shit!” My mouth drops open as I lift up my upper body slightly to stare to where we’re joined. The sight alone is going to make me come.

Raven hasn’t made the same heart-wrenching sounds that she did when I entered her for the first time. While that moment was bliss for me, Raven’s pain was killing me. This time, Raven just takes in a sharp breath. I stay perfectly still, letting her get adjusted.

“Does it still hurt?”

“It’s not so bad.” Raven takes in more steadying breaths.

I try to distract her from the uncomfortable foreign feeling by dropping kisses all over her face and neck. Moving one hand down between us, I stroke her sensitive clit with two fingers.

Raven gasps, not expecting the new sensation. She starts to moan as her head falls back. From her moans, it sounds like the distraction is working. The pleasure distracts the pain. With one hand on her jaw, I move her face down. I kiss her, eating at her mouth, fucking it with my tongue. Moving my fingers, I grind and press my dick on her sensitive spot. This seems to build Raven. Her little whimpers and cries surround my room. She is so fucking erotic, lips parted, eyes heavy, and glazed over.

“I missed this. I missed this so fucking much.”

I grind against her mercilessly with my dick, not thrusting yet. Thrusting will be painful, as her walls will still burn from the movement. She is enjoying the grinding. It might not be the actual sex portion, but she is enjoying it during sex. I so badly want to hear this reaction while I thrust as well. One day.

I let my forehead drop onto hers, staring into her eyes, not breaking the connection as she chases her high. She wraps her arms around my back, trying to get me even closer to her clit.

Her back arches, eyes are rolling back. The silent scream from her parted lips gains volume, leaking out, shuttering whimpers and cries. The soaking wet tightness builds up again.

“Shit. I am coming again.” Her head falls back on the pillow. “Oh God.”

The moment she reaches her orgasm, I start to move. Rotating my hips, stretching her, then gently pulling out. I push back inside, torturously slow. Raven is too distracted from her orgasm, to notice the pain or burn right now. I increase my tempo, close to finding my own release.

“Fuck, baby,” I hear myself desperately moaning. I start coming as my entire world goes black, my heart hammering like it’s about to explode inside me. With one final thrust, I spill all of me inside her.

My muscles give out, as I fall on top of her. I’m a panting mess. We both lie there for God knows how long. My face is in the hollow of her neck. I turn my face to kiss her cheek, neck, anything I can kiss in a reachable vicinity, without having to move my body.

Realizing I must be crushing her, I gently pull out. Raven flinches as I pull out. I shift my body slightly to the side and slump back on top of her. I hold her as close as I can. Pretty soon we both drift off, me subconsciously waking up every few minutes to make sure this is real.

After a while, Raven stirs. “Should we go back to the party?”

“Why?” I whisper, stroking her hair.

“All of our friends are here. If we are both gone for so long… ”

I sigh. She is right. I have been reckless.

“Okay.” Brushing my lips against her, I get up to get dressed. Raven still looks drained. “I can go down first. Take your time.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and tell Mia to sleep in her own damn room tonight. After everyone falls asleep, come back here.”

Raven tenses. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she stammers, “Oh. I-I uh. I d-don't—”

I patiently await her response, staring at her intently. Hoping that the intensity of my stare will establish that I am not playing around with this request. Hell, it’s a demand at this point.

Raven stops stammering and takes in a deep breath as if to gain enough confidence to speak in full sentences. “I can’t stay here tonight,” she begins determinedly. “I have school tomorrow.”

“Why can’t you sleep here, if you have school?”

“I have to pack my bag and iron my uniform. If I stay here, I will stay up late.” She doesn’t meet my eyes as she spits out the last portion. I know what she is insinuating. She might have a point but it doesn’t ease my annoyance.

“Raven, you can still do all of those things. I am asking you to sleep down the hall, not on the fucking moon. What’s the difference if you sleep in your room versus mine?” I try, but fail, to keep the irritation out of my voice.

“Please don’t be mad. I assumed you would be going back to campus tonight. With your classes starting tomorrow…” Raven looks at me apprehensively. Frightened.

I have got to stop being angry at her. I know this is not about sleeping in my room. I don't know where we stand. I am too nervous about bringing it up or pushing Raven. I don't want her to bolt again and find another douchebag like she did this summer.

I know. I sound like a broken record. I told her I forgave her. Obviously, I have not. I am still so fucking pissed at her. I don’t trust her anymore.

And she is not making it easy either. It doesn’t ease my anxiety when she acts so reluctant. Lately, I have to fight to even get an inch with her.

Still, I have to stop. Otherwise, I am going to scare her away.

“I won’t try anything tonight if you need to wake up early,” I mutter, unsure if I believe it myself. I add, “And I am not staying on campus this year.”

“Why not?” Raven frowns, looking confused.

I sigh. “With everything in the house, it’s just easier than going back and forth.”

Raven nods in understanding. Then frowns again. “Isn’t it already paid for?”

“There is a long waiting list of people trying to get into on-campus housing. It wasn’t difficult to get out of it.”

It wasn’t as easy as I am making it sound. Changing your accommodations, especially two days before the semester starts, was a huge inconvenience. I can’t verbalize the real reason I went through all that trouble. I can barely admit it to myself.

But the reason why I am staying at home this semester is -- drumroll -- I don’t trust Raven.

She is not going to talk about us till she is ready. I can’t push her either. This much I know. She has been using Reid and Mia as buffers, to avoid a conversation. There is no way to know what’s going on inside her head. And till I know where I stand, I want to ensure no other douchebags are in her proximity. As unhealthy as this is, I am staying to keep an eye on her.

Not to mention, after being with Raven, only a few days away from her was brutal. The first chance I got, I dragged her to my room while there was a house full of people. I can finally breathe after having her under me. I’d rather take KGB torture over having to stay away from her for days on end.

Bending down and looking into her, I go back to the original point at hand. “So I’ll see you tonight?”

“Okay,” Raven concedes.

“Good.” With a final kiss on her lips, I head downstairs.

-----------

Raven

True to my word, I slept in Milo’s room the night of the barbecue. True to his word, Milo didn’t do anything physical, except cover my face with lots of sweet kisses, stroked my hair and held me tight while we slept.

I felt cherished.

The next day, he asked me to come to his room again. This time we did get physical. Earth-shattering type of physical. I came three times. Twice from him going down on me before sex, and one more time during sex, when he rubbed my clit to orgasm. The pain, from the invasion of a penis inside me, is getting better. Just like Milo said it would.

After staying up late last night for mind-blowing orgasms, I feel sore and swollen today. I am exhausted, but I still have a study group at five and a dance class at seven. Private schools have a full load, that do not accommodate your newly found sex life. I decide to finish up all my schoolwork in the library, as I wait for my group to show up. By the time they do, I am already yawning and dreaming of my bed.

After my study session, I call my dad while I walk to the dance studio. His virtual assistant picks up and lets me know that he is unable to come to the phone right now. As if to plunge another knife into my heart, she also tells me that she gave him all my messages, and he hasn’t had the time to return my calls.

Thanks! I did not need or ask about that extra piece of information.

Swiping the tears away from my eyes, I stare down at my phone. All those promises over the summer that things will be different. All lies. He kept in touch with me because I was with mom. I know it. I knew it all along in my heart. He wanted to show her that he was a good father. Or perhaps he was trying to one-up her when he found out I was staying with her over the summer. Or he was trying to find an excuse to talk to her, knowing I was near her.

Either way, I only got his attention while I was with her. Now that I am in NYC again, I am back to what I was before; used trash.

It's not like I have my mom as a great back up either. Since her career took off, she barely contacts me.

The day comes crashing down on me. I was already physically exhausted, now I am mentally exhausted. I don’t bother going to my dance class and rush home instead. I just want to bury myself inside my warm comforter.

With a sullen mood and sleepy mind, I can barely stumble up the stairs. I unbutton my shirt but leave on the white tank top I have underneath. I don’t bother taking off my skirt as I sink into my bed. God, I have missed sleeping in my own bed.

It must be around eight or nine pm when I hear my bedroom door creak. Raising my head, I find Milo letting himself in and locking the door behind him. I look at him in my sleepy haze.

His face is angelic. He is painfully beautiful. And that body! Perfectly ripped, tall, veiny forearms with broad shoulders. His defined biceps are peeking out from his tight shirt.

How come I never noticed Milo this way before?

I have slept with him. How did I miss all of this? He is a walking sex God. Jesus Christ, this guy is so freaking hot. How do women resist him? They should be throwing themselves at his feet all the time. He is the epitome of male hotness.

I can’t help but give him a sleepy smile. In turn, Milo rewards me with his million-dollar megawatt grin and strolls over to me. Crouching next to me, he gives me a kiss on the forehead before giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

“Hi.”

My eyes are already fluttering closed. I feel the bed dip as Milo climbs onto the bed and is spooning me from the back.

“Hey yourself,” he murmurs. I feel my hair being kissed. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mmhmm,” I am still half asleep.

“How come you are in bed so early?”

“Bed’s comfy.”

“Oh,” is all Milo says.

I don’t say anything, slowly falling back to sleep.

“I got a call from your dance teacher. She said you were a no show today. They couldn’t get in touch with you, so they called me.”

Milo draws imaginary lines on my arms. Goosebumps. I can feel myself already getting wet. From arm touching. What the hell? That’s not even foreplay. I am in a heady lust fog after his touch. I can’t think or focus.

“Was tired…” I mumble out.

“You never missed class before. She was worried. Why didn’t you call them to let them know?”

I don't respond. All I can think about is getting off or going back to sleep. I choose sleep.

“Rave?” Milo scratches my back to get my attention.

“Hmmm,” I can barely make out words.

Milo sighs. “If you are gonna go back to sleep, at least get out of your school uniform." I am not listening to him. My eyes drift back to sleep when I feel Milo’s hands on the waistband of my skirt, slipping them down my legs.

“Wha-”

“You went to sleep in your school skirt. It’s getting wrinkled.” I flutter my eyes and watch Milo drape my skirt over a hanger.

He turns off all the lights, except for the bedside lamp. I watch Milo undress down to his boxers. He comes back over to the bed. His washboards abs are almost glistening in the bedside lamplight. I can’t look away.

Lifting the comforter, Milo slips into bed with me. I am still staring at him, wondering if an angel fell to earth. Or maybe the devil. A beautiful devil.

What is wrong with me today?

“You are so fucking hot,” it slips out before I can stop myself.

Milo looks surprised like that’s the last thing he was expecting me to say. He raises an amused eyebrow. “You are not so bad yourself.” He grins ear to ear. “In fact, you might be the prettiest girl I have--”

My hand moves to grab the back of his neck to drag him to my mouth. I nudge my tongue out, looking for entrance into his mouth. Milo stiffens in shock. I have never made a move before.

He immediately reciprocates, hands fisting my hair, moaning into my mouth. Our tongues wrestle, as he pulls me closer, letting me feel his erection. I am awake. Completely awake.

I can’t get myself to care right now about my shame over fucking Milo, how Reid will be angry if he finds out, and what all of our friends and family would say.

I want temporary oblivion and Milo can give it to me. It doesn’t matter if my negligent family can’t bother to give me a call back. That my father only spends time with me to spite my mother. That my mother would rather chase fame and glory than be with me.

This man cares. He cares enough to find out why I didn’t go to a dance class. My parents don’t even know I take lessons. Since I got back, they haven’t checked to see if I am alive or dead. Mom used to be better about that. But ever since her clothing line hit it big, she is no better than dad.

This man here is the only one who can replace what they took from me. Replace the things I can never verbalize or demand from them. They broke my heart. He put it back together.

And now I want to lose myself in him. In this gorgeous, brilliant, amazing, sex God of a man who wants me. Everyone wants him, but right now, he wants me. Only me.

Feeling brazen, I slip my hand inside his boxer and play with him till he is even harder. Dropping down, I take his dick in my mouth.

“Fuck,” Milo roars out, hands immediately falling on my hair. This time he doesn’t guide me. He doesn’t have to. From his moans, I know I am on the right track. He just strokes my hair and grips it with one hand as he pulls my hair away from my face.

Milo is squirming, groaning out loud like he can’t take it anymore. Feeling Milo tremble underneath me makes me feel powerful. Like I am the only one who can give him what he needs. I lift my eyes to look at him. He is staring at me with an incredulous look on his face. We keep eye contact as I feel his dick throbbing in my mouth.

“Fuck. I am gonna come. Take your mouth off me, baby.”

I am aware of what happens. I have gone down on Michel, but I never swallowed. When Reid and I watched porn together, we saw those women swallow  with cum dripping out of their mouth. In my current sexual state, I won't back down from the challenge.

Milo looks at me in shock as I keep sucking him off harder.

“Baby, what are-- oh fuck.”

Milo punches down on the mattress with one hand, while his grip on my hair gets tighter with the other.

It’s like taking a shot, don’t think too much about it and it just goes right down. Thank God nothing drips out of my mouth. I never thought that was a sexy look.

“Shit,” Milo is still looking at me in shock like he can’t believe I just did that. “Come here.”

He grabs my face and starts kissing me feverishly. Within a second my underwear is off as Milo pushes me onto the mattress. He swooshes down, and I feel two strong hands lifting my thighs up. Before I can reposition properly, I feel his wet tongue in my folds.

Milo has already figured out how to make me come. He paid close attention to my reactions the first couple times, and now he has the lyrics to my pussy memorized. My blood heats up, and I can hear my ears ringing. I start to tremble as he laps around and flicks my nub. Pressing his tongue hard against me, he grinds his tongue onto my clit, leaving no room for air. Just the way I like it. It takes a few minutes for me to arch my back as I feel him building me.

“Fuck. Oh my God. Ah!” I come hard but grab onto his hair so I can keep grinding and riding his tongue, not ready to let the orgasm end.

I hear Milo say something but can’t figure out where the sound is coming from. In my satiated mind, I can’t focus.

“Raven?” I feel a grip on my chin, as my face is moved back. I see Milo’s emerald eyes on mine, almost blinding me with their shine. His eyes are gorgeous. It's such an unique color.

Milo chuckles. “I love seeing you, post-orgasm. You are so cute. Completely out of it and sprawled out.” He presses a kiss on my lips, and I feel him rubbing his dick against my sex. He is hard again. Very hard.

He told me last night how incredible he feels when we are joined together. Like we are connected as one. And that’s what I need today. I need to feel connected to someone who cares about me like I am part of them.

I grab on to his neck as Milo inserts himself in me. I hug him tight, needing the intimacy and contact. Milo goes deep, as he holds on to my hips. Milo finds his own climax within minutes.

Afterward, we lie side by side.

“Rave,” Milo brushes his thumb over my lips. “Isn't it time that we talk about it?”

Talk about what?

Oh God!

I knew he wouldn't drop it. I have never missed dance classes before. How can he possibly act like my parent while he is holding me naked?

Yes, those classes are very expensive. I shouldn't have skipped class. But I don’t want to talk about the reason I skipped - my parents. So, I keep my eyes closed, trying to suspend reality for as long as possible.

“Rave,” Milo tries again. I tune him out, pretending to be asleep. I hear Milo sigh. He knows I am not sleeping, but he knows I don't want to talk either.

I feel him kissing my cheek and pulling me to him, as we call it a night.

-----------

Raven

Reid and I clean up the table after dinner, as Milo boxes the leftovers. It was a Friday night family dinner. We had a huge feast with way too many leftovers. Mia did her chores in record time and is already back in her room, talking to her friends, or whatever thirteen-year-olds do.

“When do you wanna leave for Janeen's party?” Reid quirks an eyebrow at me.

“Party at Janeen’s? Are her parents home?” Milo responds for me, knowing full well what the answer is. Slight annoyance nags at me. Reid narrows his eyes as well but doesn’t respond.

“It’s for Janeen’s birthday. She throws a September blowout every year,” I offer, hoping Milo doesn’t make a thing out of this and taint Reid’s good mood.

Milo doesn’t say anything. He looks like he is biting back a comment or trying to come up with a reason.

“It’s true. We go every year,” Reid taps his phone, presumably texting our clique of friends. “I am gonna go take a quick shower and change. We can leave right after.”

As soon as Reid is out of earshot, Milo turns to me. “How late do you think you guys will be?”

“I really don’t know.” I shrug.

“Right.” Milo looks tense like he wants to say more, but he is biting his tongue.

“You okay?”

“I didn’t know you guys went to this party every year,” Milo says skeptically. “Are there going to be drinking, drugs, any parental supervision? I don’t have any details.”

I don't understand Milo or his apprehension. Reid and I go to tons of parties. Milo knows we drink. There was a full-on war about it.

Reid and Milo got into it a bunch of times because Reid started drinking at fourteen. Milo put a stop to it. Reid went off, calling him a hypocrite since Milo also started drinking at a young age. Milo explained that he did not have good caretakers to look out for his well-being. Reid did.

Milo felt very strongly about us drinking, so I never gave him any grief about it. I always declined Reid’s offers to join him for a drink, scared that Milo would find out and be disappointed.

Reid did not agree with Milo’s "do as I ask, not as I do," parenting methods. In fear of Reid rebelling further, Milo made a deal with him. Reid and I would be allowed to go to any parties that we wanted, including Milo’s "infamous" parties, as long as we abstained from drinking until we were in college. But if he caught us drinking, even once, he would lock us up indefinitely.

Reid re-negotiated that deal. Reid agreed to stop drinking temporarily, with the understanding that when we turn sixteen, we would be allowed to drink at parties and social events, as long as we were safe about it.

At that point, Milo thought sixteen was too far away. He gave in, hoping that by the time we were old enough to cash in on the deal, our dads would be back from their assignments. They  could discipline us. Till then, his job was to keep us alive.

As we neared our sixteenth birthday and our dads' assignments were extended, Milo looked like he was ready to split his hair. But despite how hard it was for him; Milo kept his word. He always did. Milo says we need to trust each other. And if we give each other our words, we must make a point to keep it.

So when we turned sixteen, Milo looked the other way while we drank. He did give us a bunch of "safety" lectures before we turned sixteen. To this day, Milo still sits us down to provide us with refreshers on "what not to do".

Don't get blackout drunk.

Don't mix alcohol and drugs.

Don't drink and stumble around the city. If you are at a safe place, stay there.

I also got some additional talks for being a girl.

Watch out for roofies.

Don't accept a drink you didn't make.

Don't get so drunk that you are not in control.

We mostly follow his rules. Reid and I break them once in a while, like during our birthdays and special occasions. We have gone to plenty of parties and have always been safe. As long as we followed his rules, Milo never gave us a hard time. So, why is this suddenly a problem?

“Does it matter?” Tonight’s line of questioning is throwing me off. “We go to parties all the time. We are careful. Reid hasn’t gotten out of line since we were fourteen. I always keep an eye out on him. Even if you don’t trust Reid, I've never given you a reason not to trust me.”

Milo tenses and doesn’t respond.

What the fuck! What is that supposed to mean?

“You do trust me, don’t you?” I try again for reassurance.

Milo stays quiet, eyeing me apprehensively. I say nothing and go back to cleaning up. I can feel Milo’s eyes burning through me.

“Just come to my room when you get home. I’ll leave the door open.” Milo doesn’t even look at me, as he dismissively walks away.

There it is.

Come to my room.

It's the same four words every night. I used to love going to Milo’s room, talking to him for hours on end. Now every time he says it, it seems like a dirty request. It shouldn’t be. We have slept on that bed without having sex.

Just earlier this week, I had my period. It lasted four days. I wanted to abstain from sex during my period. Milo still instructed me to come to his room every night. We watched movies and YouTube videos. He just held me, kissed me. I felt cherished.

But his hunger returned by day three. He said he couldn’t hold out anymore. We had sex in the shower and then on his bed, after putting a towel down.

Milo’s insatiable appetite is often intimidating. It feels like he can never get enough. I don’t have any experience with “friends with benefits.” I am only friends with one of Milo’s ex fuck buddies, Alexa. If this whole situation wasn’t so weird, I’d ask her how often they had sex or what their arrangement was. Because this doesn’t seem normal.

Fuck, why am I even saying the word normal? I am fucking my chaperone, while my parents live it up abroad. I should throw the word normal out of my vocabulary.

I heavy heartedly walk up to my room to get changed for the party.

-----------

Raven

Last night, Reid and I stayed over at Janeen’s house. Reid was drinking. Nothing too excessive, but all the same, he passed out in the guest bedroom. I am pretty sure he took one of his “groupies” in there with him.

I had no interest in interrupting their lovemaking or dragging him home by slugging his dead weight body around. I thought it was best for me to stay over as well, just in case. I did the responsible thing and sent Milo a text.

We are going to stay over at Janeen’s.

You assured me I can trust you.

What the hell? Milo always told us if we had more than a few drinks, and we are at a friend’s house, to stay over.

You can. Reid passed out in the guest room. I shouldn’t leave him alone here.

And which room are you sleeping in?

Seriously?

In Janeen’s room.

No response from Milo, after that.

This morning, none of us woke up until eleven am. After we gathered our wits, we walked over to a nearby eatery. Reid, Janeen, and I squeeze into a booth. I check my phone to see that I finally got a response from Milo.

Meet me at Sorento’s at 7:30 pm tonight.

I frown at the text, not sure what to make of it. It wasn’t a question, but I still respond.

Ok.

Sorento is a local restaurant we frequent. It’s probably my favorite. I love the food, the eclectic decor, the all-around vibe. I often go there with Reid and Mia after school. I wonder why Milo wants to meet there. It’s not like we can have sex there.

Milo doesn’t leave any room for discussion anymore. It’s never a request. It’s always a decided statement. Like how he asks me to come to his room every night. It’s an expectation now.

I shouldn’t be surprised. This was our relationship for years, Milo deciding things for me. Yet, it wasn’t quite the same. He wasn’t invested in my every move before, or if he was, it didn’t affect me this way.

Something flipped in Milo since we started having a physical relationship. Sometimes he is caring and sweet, like the old Milo. Other times I am avoiding a fight with him or deflecting his anger. And like his personality, my attitude towards him is also fleeting. There are times when I feel happy every time I see him. And there are times when I subconsciously avoid him.

I wish we could both just pick one personality and the same feelings, and stick to it. This flip-flopping is driving me crazy.

-----------

Milo

I am nervous as shit. Really fucking nervous.

Technically, this is our first date. It just happens to be with one of my best friends. And we have already had sex. Oh, and as an added bonus, we live together. It’s definitely backwards.

Fuck, I have no idea how to be romantic. I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend or even seriously dated. Raven might be inexperienced in bed, but I am inexperienced in this arena.

I am twenty years old and have never had a girlfriend. Kind of fucking pathetic, considering how early I started with my sexual conquests.

I am not a commitment-phobe. There was simply never enough time, with my responsibilities towards my siblings and my own grueling academics. And I never met anyone who intrigued me enough to give them that title.

I have gone on dates before. But the first or second date is when I tell someone that I don't want to be in a committed relationship. We can date casually as long as there are no expectations, or we can be friends with benefits.

When I went to college, I finally had some free time, or at least enough free time for a girlfriend. This is thanks to Raven, who picked up the slack. But once I did have time, I had lost all interest in other women. I pined after the only girl I couldn’t have for years on end. At that time, I could barely even admit it to myself.

Since we started sleeping together, it’s been just highs and lows. Sometimes I feel so connected to her. Like the old Raven, who is madly in love with me. Other days, she just shuts down.

Just last week I went to her room to check on her after I found out that she missed her dance class. I found her sleeping and barely responsive. Out of nowhere she came on to me, initiated sex, looked at me like I am all she needs. Afterward, I tried to talk about us. And she immediately shut down.

I haven't tried to talk to her about "us" since then. I realized that maybe we don’t need to have a “talk.” Raven clearly doesn’t like heavy or awkward conversations. She’d much rather continue as is. I don’t have all the answers either on how to make it work between us.

I simplified it. I am content being with her in any way I can. I want to be with only her. I know she wants me too. We can both be all in, even if we can’t say the words to each other. After all, actions speak louder than words.

So, I thought we could start by doing things together, outside of the bedroom. Hence, I was irritated as fuck when she went out last night. I didn't commit to any plans because of her.

Asher threw a party last night in celebration of our new app. It would have been suspicious if I took Raven to the party without taking Reid with me. And I wasn’t going to leave Mia home by herself, not unless I could get her to agree on letting the nanny stay over. I was going to talk to Raven about all this. But was trumped by Janeen’s party. I couldn’t say no. I have set clear expectations with Raven and Reid. As long as they meet them, I have always allowed them reasonable freedom and independence. I understood early on that telling a teenager no will just end with more teen rebellion.

Either way, I stayed home, hoping she would come home early. I was pissed when she told me that she was staying over. All of my jealousy came rushing back. Fuck! Lately all I feel is jealous, possessive, and out of my mind.

Last night, all I thought was, who is she with and which horny teenagers are making moves on her?

The reasonable side of me was happy that she was being safe and staying over. The caveman side of me wanted to take a cab over there and drag her back home.

Except I couldn’t do that. Not without raising extreme suspicion.

At this point, most of my shame has already left the building. I should feel like a piece of shit for sleeping with an underage girl, who I am supposed to be taking care of. I can barely admit the reality of our truth to myself. But I don’t care anymore. I am all in. I have known it since the day we kissed. Since even before then. I just don’t know how to go about it.

But it would be hell for Raven and my siblings, if the word was to get out about us. They wouldn’t be able to deal with the taunting and gossip.

I haven’t seen Raven since she left for the party last night. I spent the day meeting up with the group about marketing strategies for the app. We just launched it for beta testing, and we are trying to get a feel for the reception. I sent her a text in between work.

I decided that instead of being irrationally angry at her about the party, I need to be proactive. I asked her to meet me for an actual date before she made any other plans. I made all the arrangements. The nanny is staying over tonight to watch Mia. I made reservations at Raven’s favorite restaurant. After dinner, I am going to take her to her favorite Fro-Yo place, although Raven will still insist on getting dessert at Sorento’s as well.

It’s only two minutes after 7:30 pm, and I am already getting impatient. I am about to shoot her a text when I see Raven, walking through the restaurant door.

I swear, every time I see that girl, it’s like all the air has been knocked out of me. I always notice her hair first. With her pale complexion, the hair looks like the darkest black I have ever seen. My eyes land on her generous lips. They always look plump, kissable, biteable.

I am getting distracted. I need to stay focused.

I put up a hand to wave, and our eyes lock. It’s like electricity coursing through me. Like there is no one else in the room. The moment we lock eyes, everything else fades. Like a social media filter, the background fades, and we are the only things in focus.

She smiles shyly and walks over. Why am I so nervous? I live with this girl.

She is in a casual Theressa Beckett Special, which is still more revealing than most other outfits. The dress comes to her thighs, but her four inch heels elongate her toned legs, making the dress seem even shorter.

I love the skin she is showing.  But so does every other asshole in here, who eye her like she is on display. I want to stamp mine on her forehead so none of them would dare look again.

I stand as she reaches the booth.

“Hi,” Raven leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi. How are you?”

“Good.”

“Here,” I hand her a menu and lead her into the booth, sliding in next to her.

“Mmm. I am starving. What are you in the mood for?” Raven eyes the menu.

“I like the Southwestern Salads here. What about you?”

“They have the best red velvet cheesecake.”

I fall into a fit of laughter. This girl is so ridiculous. “Rave, are you going to even look at the dinner menu or just order one of each dessert?”

Raven narrows her eyes at me and mumbles, “I will get an appetizer.”

“At this rate, you are going to be really fat by twenty-five and have your first heart attack by thirty, death by thirty-five.”

“Eh. Gotta go some someday. It will be worth it.”

We both burst out laughing. I. Fucking. Missed. Us. Laughing, teasing, so normal, so in sync.

“How about I make you a deal?” Putting an arm around her and pulling her close, I say, “I will live in denial that you are digging yourself to an early grave if you at least eat something healthy and green first. And afterward, you can have all four desserts on the menu. I will just look the other way and pretend that you will still be alive to see Mia graduate college.”

This wins me a laugh. A belly-aching laugh, with her hair falling against my chest.

“Deal. Here, choose something for me, and then I want all the desserts.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shaking my head, I put our menus down. This is normal. If Raven is not sure about a decision or doesn’t care to make one, she asks me to make it for her.

I order two salads and all four desserts when the waiter comes around. The waiter gives me a quizzical look. He is about to tell me that he will ask about dessert after dinner.

I hold up a hand, to put a stop to that. “I have to order dinner and dessert together; otherwise, the lady won’t be happy,” I motion towards Raven, who flashes all her teeth to the waiter.

Raven insists that dessert be ordered at the same time as dinner. If we don’t do it, Raven refers to The Incident of 2012. And none of us want a repeat of that.

A couple of years ago all of us went to a fusion restaurant. Raven was really excited to try their extensive dessert menu. But the service was extremely slow. By the time we finished with dinner, no one, other than Raven, was in the mood to wait another forty-five minutes for dessert.

Raven pouted all the way home and kept throwing daggers at us with her eyes. Very little can get that girl down. But the lack of sugar and coffee will do it. For two days, she barely spoke to any of us, freezing the three of us out. It drove all of us crazy.

I shake my head as the waiter grabs the menus and refills our waters.

“How was the party last night?” Raven visibly tenses at my question.

“It was fine,” she says absentmindedly while avoiding eye contact.

I stare at her for a heartbeat. I can already feel her pulling away. This is ridiculous. I didn’t bring her here to interrogate her. I want us to have a good time. I change direction.

“Cool. How are all of your sketches going? Draw anything exciting lately?”

“Yes! I actually started a rough draft today.” Raven’s eyes light up. Much better. She delves into a series of ideas for a new outfit she is working on. She talks animatedly about a reversible dress, so people can have two different outfits for the price of one.

As our dinner comes in, she asks about Columbia and the new app. Some people have a way with words, and some people have listening skills. Raven has both. She listens attentively about the app and our program, interjecting at the right moments to ask great follow up questions.

As we dig into dessert, I see her face turning ghostly pale. Raven immediately jerks out of the arm I have around her.

‘Rave, are you okay?”

Not understanding the turn of her mood, I follow her gaze.

“I go to school with them,” she is looking at a family. Mom, dad, and their two teenage daughters. Twins, I think.

They spot Raven at the same moment. Before I can respond, they walk towards us.

“Hey, Rave,” one of the twins say in a singsong voice.

“Umm… hey guys. Wow, what a coincidence.”

“Raven, darling,” says a middle-aged lady, who I presume is the twins’ mother. I think I recognize her from a PTA meeting.

“Hi, Mrs. Alpert,” Raven gets up to give her a kiss on the cheek. “This is Mrs. Alpert,” Raven turns to face me and motions to the woman. “And this is my— this is Milo. He is..." Raven stammers to find an appropriate title for me. "He is Reid’s brother.”

Jesus, that’s what I have been reduced to. I stand up to shake hands with both the mom and dad.

“Yes, I remember meeting you,” the dad gives me a once over.

“That’s right. I saw you at one of the PTA meetings, and I think we chaperoned a school dance together.”

I can’t place them, to be honest. But Wellington has a strict rule about parents and guardians being involved. All parents must chaperone twice a year and attend at least four PTA meetings. It’s a safe bet that I have met them at one of those.

“Maybe,” Mr. Alpert scrunches his face in concentration. “But I actually know your family as well as the Becketts. John and I did our residencies together.”

This is news to me. “You did? You know Uncle John and my dad?”

“Yes. When John moved here, he knew that my girls went to Wellington. Before Raven started school, he gave me a call so the girls could look out for her. That’s how they became friends.” He looks from his daughters to Raven for confirmation. All of them nod in agreement.

“Mr. Alpert and Uncle Reese worked together when they both first moved to New York. Small world,” Raven chimes in.

“That’s right,” Mr. Alpert smiles kindly, before turning to me. “You know, before John left for Doctors Without Borders, he told me that the only reason he accepted the position is because you agreed to take care of Raven. And later he told me that you became Raven’s legal guardian. That’s such a wonderful thing you did young man, especially while you are going to school. Raising teenagers and going to Columbia full time is no easy task. I couldn’t have done it.”

Raven turns beet red at the reminder. I can barely mutter a thank you. We have been reminded about our reality, and I can already feel the wheels turning in Raven’s head.

This is how the world sees us. Me raising her, as if she was my kid. If I threw my arm around her now or kissed her, all those praises would turn into disdain. Disdain over taking advantage of the daughter Uncle John trusted me with.

Luckily, the hostess comes over to show the Alperts to their table. Raven keeps glancing at the Alperts’ table, barely saying a word to me.

“Should I get the check?” I ask. I can feel my own self-loathing return. Even as it does, I know it doesn’t change anything for me. I eye her apprehensively, needing something, anything from her, to confirm that’s the same for her.

“Yea,” is all Raven manages to say with her small voice.

After grabbing the check, we quietly stroll home. I nix the plan for fro-yo. She is not in the mood. I can feel Raven’s over analyzation resonating from her. I refuse to give her space right now and pull away.

Opening the door to the house, I let Raven in first. Before she can bolt up, I grab her elbow and whisper, “I am going to check on Mia. Come to my room after you change”.

Raven freezes. I am almost scared that she is going to say no. She finally gives me a nod, without looking in my direction, before heading to her room to change.

Lesson learned. If she is going to shut down every time we face our reality, then I will ensure we don’t face our reality anytime soon. If she is only compliant inside home perimeters, that’s where we will stay.

I am ashamed to admit it, but I will let her live in denial if that’s what it takes to keep her. From now on, we don’t have to talk about us. We don’t have to talk about anything. I can still show her how much I care and have faith that things will change down the road.

This is torture for me, but I can wait till she is ready to acknowledge what's going on between us. I can take anything as long as I can touch her, feel her, smell her, hold her, be inside her. I need her like I need air. I can't risk losing her.

-----------

Raven

I run to my room and close the door. I immediately open up my laptop and Skype. I need to talk to someone. Preferably an adult, not immature teenagers.

I am so confused about the choices I am making. The physical aspect with Milo might be great, but everything else feels so wrong. I am tired of feeling like an indecisive mess.

Sex might provide me with temporary oblivion regarding my parents. The shame and self-loathing that come afterward do not. I try to compartmentalize as much as I can. But I can feel my walls crumbling. The ones that separate my thoughts into different boxes in my brain.

Milo and I went to dinner at Sorento’s last weekend. We couldn’t even grab a simple dinner in public, without a rude awakening of our reality. We ran into some school friends, along with their parents. Of course they knew of our situation and praised Milo for “raising me.” I felt mortified by Mr. Alpert’s words.

“Raising teenagers and going to Columbia full time is no easy task.”

I couldn’t hide from the shame those words brought on. Milo is fucking me, while he is raising me. I can’t comprehend how Milo acts so normal about this. When we are in public, it's like we are nothing. And the moment everyone is out of earshot, it’s the same every night:

Come to my room.

Those are the only words he says to me anymore. I hate those words. They make me feel like his cheap whore. Other than those words and words in public, we never converse. Every time we are alone, Milo grabs me and starts kissing and fucking me till late at night.

He is always on a mission to make me come at least a couple of times a night. By the time the exhaustion from the orgasms takes hold, I am fast asleep. It’s the same every night.

Yesterday, after hours of sex, he finally said something different. Something that annoyed me even more than him not talking. Reid and I planned to go to a party at a friend’s house this weekend. We let Milo know about it days ago. He was fine with it.

Last night, he changed his mind about me going. Milo told me that he wanted me to stay in with him, and I should tell Reid I have too much homework, which I do not. Reid and I were planning to stay over at our friend’s place. Mia also has a sleepover. Mia is popular and gets invited to quite a few sleepovers. When Milo realized the house would be empty, he changed his mind about me going to the party.

He is boxing me in. And there is nothing I can do. I hate how I don’t hold any power in this situation. I am so frustrated.

As if Milo knew of my rampant thoughts, he cooked dinner for me tonight. He made my favorite --- lasagna, set up a romantic ambiance completed with background music, and ordered all of my favorite desserts.

Does he think doing that makes it all better? It doesn't.

We still have to stay indoors, away from prying eyes. And we still have to live with the shame of what we are doing.

I don’t know how to take any of this. He wants to fuck me all the time, every second of the day, every time we are alone. He fucks me till neither of us can breathe or move from exhaustion. Then he sprinkles romance on top of it. What am I supposed to make of that?

He tells me nothing of what’s going on with us. Milo is the experienced one out of us. He always makes all the decisions in my life. Yet, he has given me no indication of why he is pursuing a sexual relationship with me, of all people.

And he is leaving me no room to breathe. His confident approach about what we are doing consistently makes me doubt my own doubts.

As soon as dinner ended, I told him I had a Skype call scheduled with my dad. He didn’t argue. Thank God for that.

Right now, I need to talk to my parents. I thought Milo and I were friends with benefits, but I don’t know what to make of his romantic gestures. I need advice. I need some direction from an adult. Someone who knows better.

I don’t have to tell them what’s going on with Milo. I can keep it vague, tell them I am having boy problems. We don’t even have to talk about this. I just need to hear their voices.

It’s ten pm right now, which means it’s four am in Paris, and five am in South Africa. Shockingly, both my parents will be up at this ungodly hour. Mom is probably leaving some glamourous party. And dad is waking up to start his shift.

Needing to talk to someone coherent, I try dad’s Skype first. After three missed Skype calls, I try his phone instead, which is still forwarded to his virtual assistant.

“I am so sorry. Mr. Beckett cannot come to the line right now,” she informs me.

“Oh, okay. Can you tell him that I need to talk to him? It’s urgent.” I am falling apart. I hope she can hear the desperation in my voice.

She is quiet for so long, I am almost worried that she disconnected the phone. “Let me try to page him and see what he says. What is the best call back number?”

She would have my number by now, considering how many messages I left. And he should also have his only daughter’s phone number. Regardless, I leave my phone number and hang up.

I wait for a call. Nothing comes.

I try my mom next. I call her on her phone, as I get changed into my sleeping gear. No response.

Finally, I hear a ping go off on my phone. It’s from my mom.

Can’t talk right now, darling. Busy. I will call when I am free.

Busy means getting drunk with celebrities at a fashion show after-party. Not surprisingly, mom doesn’t even ask why I am calling so late and so many times.

I need my parents. Not in a few minutes, not when it’s convenient for them, not when they are ready to face me. I don’t care about their heartbreaks, their dreams, their insecurities. I want to be selfish. I need them to put me first.

Other parents would be mortified if their seventeen-year-old daughter was having sex with a twenty-year-old college student. Someone they live with. And as an added twist, the person also happens to be their guardian.

I have never been one to do rebellious teenage acts to get attention. Now I get it. I understand why teenagers do self-harm acts for attention. Any attention is better than none at all.

I stare at my phone, willing it to ring. Minutes pass by. I am blinking back tears as no call or text comes through. I am so alone. Suddenly I am that thirteen-year-old girl again, who moved to New York for the first time. Lost. Confused. Lonely.

And per usual, only one person is readily here for me. Only one person who can make it all better. Leaving my useless phone behind, I stride towards Milo’s room.

“Is everything okay?” Milo is frowning. I am sure he can tell from my facial expression that I am on the verge of tears. Milo jumps out of his desk chair and quickly pulls me in for a hug.

Milo. Of course, it’s always fucking Milo. Always picking up the pieces after my shithead parents. I stay quiet and seek out comfort on his large chest.

Milo closes the door behind me and lifts me up. He sits on the bed, with me on his lap. I nestle into his warm hold.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” I immediately respond, a little harsher than I intended.

Milo looks shocked at my tone. He quickly masks his expression. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “I understand. I won’t push you.”

He understands. He knows why I can’t talk about things. I don’t need my parents. I don’t care how wrong this is. Right now, I don’t care what anyone else would say. I don’t even care if Mr. Alpert and his family were to walk into this room, gasping in shock.

I. Don’t. Care.

I only need Milo. I need his electrifying touch. His paralyzing look. His warmth.

My body has instinctively learned to react positively to him. All he has to do is touch me and I am putty in his hands. Maybe it’s because he is my first. I am sure there is something about our initial sexual experiences defining what we like in bed, as time goes on.

Or maybe because it’s Milo. I might be new to this, but I am experienced enough to know he is amazing in bed. I am glad I have him as my guide into the sexual realm. He makes everything infinitely better.

Milo is already shirtless. He is only wearing a pair of sweatpants that are hanging low. His chest is warm, perfectly golden tan, smooth with very few hairs in the middle. I place my palm on his chest and start touching him.

He is beautiful. Like a sculpture. I just want to touch him everywhere.

The way Milo is watching me encourages me. Flicking my tongue out, I start to lick him from his pectoral muscles and lower myself down to my knees to lick to his six-pack. I trace his perfect V with my fingers before running my tongue over it as well.

Grabbing hold of his sweatpants, I easily slide them down. I grab Milo’s dick from the base. His shaft is long and thick. I still have no idea how that thing fits inside me.

I see a drop of precum and on instinct lean over to lick it off.

“Oh my God,” he mouths, gaping at me.

Feeling wanted, admired, confident, I lean over for long slow licks, using both my hands to grasp him from the base. All my thoughts, shame, and rejection have depleted from my brain. I stroke him while I suck him off till I can feel his erection be unbelievably hard. Rising to my feet, I wiggle out of my shorts.

Milo grabs for me, pulling me close so I can straddle him. Slowly he positions me on his straining erection as my wet lips rub against him. This position is new to us. Staring deep into his eyes, I take hold of his shaft, brushing his hands off. I need to be in charge right now. And from the look of it, Milo does not mind.

I guide him inside me, putting my hands on his shoulders as I lower myself onto his cock. I slowly work his hard length inside me, adjusting and rotating till I find the most pleasurable position.

“Oh my God,” I can’t help but pant.

“Fuck, baby.” Milo puts one hand around my waist and on my hip to guide me. But I won’t let him control today’s session.

Instead, I guide his hand to my clit, so he can rub the right spot as I take charge. I rock against him, till I hit a spot that makes me tighten up. I feel his dick throbbing and pulsing inside me as we intensify our movements.

“Raven, I wanna hear you come,” he says, out of breath before he leans up to take my lips.

“Then, don’t stop.”

My eyes are unfocused, hands clamping down on his chest as Milo increases the tempo on my sensitive spot. I am still riding him when my body decides it can’t hold off any longer. I dig my nails onto his chest as I convulse.

“That’s it, baby, come for me,” he murmurs as he quickly moves his hand from my clit, to use both hands on my hips and grind me further into him, extending my orgasm.

“Milo, oh God,” I cry out.

Milo thrusts his dick, pounding inside me. My moans bring on his own climax. Grabbing my hair with a fist, Milo lets go with a shout. “Fuck, baby.”

I slump forward, my face on his neck, as Milo slightly lifts me to pull out. I am barely aware of Milo picking me up and gently dropping me on the bed. Moving to my side, he pulls me towards him in a spooning position before pulling the comforter on us.

When awareness returns, I find Milo’s head resting against my neck, hands stroking my hair.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs with eyes closed.

He is right. I am surprised at how right he is.

I might have very complicated feelings about what we are doing. But I can’t deny the fact that sex has become amazing. Mind-blowing. Addicting.

Maybe I am just acting like a horny teenager. But I have never experienced something so powerful and mind-numbing. It stops all my worries, my self-esteem issues, my abandonment issues.

I wait for the self-loathing to come, the one that follows me after our encounters. It doesn’t. I close my eyes as the only thing I feel now is pure bliss.

CHAPTER 7

October 17th, 2015

-----------

Raven

I am a crazy person. I am sure of it. My head feels like it's being fucked, even though my body has been taking the fucking.

Sometimes I feel like everything happening with Milo is part of my delusions. There is no way this is all real. Milo acts completely calm and unnerved in front of everyone. We still have movie nights, family dinners.

The other day, he went to my PTA meeting. He dutifully met with all the teachers. He asked my counselor a bunch of questions about my chances for FIT. Then he took me home for an "afternoon delight." He can turn it on and off while I am drowning and going insane.

Despite all the shortcomings of the new nature of our relationship, I still love having Milo's undivided attention. When we are in his room together, he coddles me. He holds me so tight like he'd never let me go. I love feeling so needed. The feeling that assures me he'd never leave me. I hate the idea of giving that feeling up, no matter what I am offering up in exchange.

And that's how I have been justifying my actions so far. That's how I sleep at night.

Till now.

Now I am faced with my reality once more. I can't justify my way out of this.

I am in the hallway that leads to Milo's room. I slept over in Milo's room last night and am currently only wearing one of his large sleeping shirts. I just woke up and was in the process of sneaking back to my room, when Mia appeared out of nowhere.

“Mia," I jump, completely surprised by her sudden appearance.

“Hey, Rave, what are you doing?"

I am dumbstruck. What am I doing? I am not close enough to the hallway bathroom door to say I used the restroom. Then again, I have my own attached bathroom in my room. I have no idea how to explain this to her. I try for a half-truth.

"Nothing. I was just saying bye to Milo."

Milo left for the weekend, and he is supposed to be gone all week.

"Oh, okay." She eyes my shirt, or Milo's shirt, and my bare legs. She doesn't say anything else.

"I am gonna go back to sleep. It's still early."

"Okay," Mia says again.

She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her eyes.

This isn't a close call. This is the call—the wake-up call I have been anticipating.

Turning the corner towards my room, I rush inside and shut the door. It feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over me, jolting my libido.

Unsure of what to do, I spend the remaining morning locked in my room. Milo left earlier this morning. I have a vague recollection of being woken up at an ungodly hour to be kissed goodbye. He is going out of town for a few days to meet with investors.

He is skipping his lectures for the week and told me that the nanny would be staying here to take care of any household related chores. When I found out that I have no household responsibilities for the week and that Milo wouldn't be around, I cleared my schedule completely. I have been waiting for an opportunity to take some serious time to think clearly. I need to analyze the situation with Milo, without being fogged by teenage hormonal lust.

Given that Mia caught me sneaking out of Milo's room this morning, my focus has shifted. I need to think. I need to talk to someone. But who?

I can't talk to Reid about this.

I certainly can't talk to Mia about this.

My dad doesn't return my calls.

My mom barely texts me back.

I can't talk to any of my school or family friends about it.

Milo is engulfed in my life. Everyone in my life knows him and how we are related. The thought of anyone finding out about our intimate moments makes bile rise from my throat. As great as the physical connection is, I can barely even admit it to myself. I'd be horrified if others knew.

I can't even talk to Milo. I have no idea how to talk to him anymore. Which leaves me feeling… lonely. It's something I loathe.

I don't mind being alone. I quite often enjoy my own space. Being creative. Doing things only I like.

But I hate feeling lonely. The feeling of not having someone to talk to, it’s like I can't bare my soul or true self to someone.

After this summer, I thought things would be different with my parents. But they broke my heart all over again—both of them. Sex with Milo has been filling that hollowness in my heart. Despite Reid, Mia, and all the friends I have, attention from Milo or my parents is irreplaceable for me. As a result, I have been overlooking all my other concerns, my shame, my reluctance.

But this, this I can't ignore. I am lonely once more, and this time it’s because of Milo.

When my parents broke me, Milo picked up the pieces. My parents broke me all over again, and this time Milo's consolation was sex. It worked for a little while. But now I just want things to go back to how it was before.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. "Hey, can I come in?" Mia peeks in. In all the time I have lived here, she has never asked my permission to come in.

She knows.

"Of course," I say in a small voice, bracing myself for what’s to come.

I don't know what I will do if she confronts me about this. I try to calm myself down. Mia is only thirteen. How much of this adult stuff can she understand? I think back to myself at thirteen and realize she knows enough. A lot of girls in my grade were already having sex at thirteen. New York City is the fastest city in the world, and the kids are just as fast.

"What were you really doing in Milo's room this morning?" Mia gets right to the point.

"I told you…" I don't get to finish before Mia cuts me off.

"Cut the shit, Raven." My eyes almost bug out. For the second time, a second Sinclair has spoken to me in a way they never did before.

"Do you think I am stupid? I know that you and Milo are hooking up."

This is it—the point of no return. Lost for words, I just stare at her.

She must hate how I am looking at her. She snaps, "Have you guys fucked yet?"

"What? Of course not." I respond without thinking. I am shocked at my own lack of hesitation with the lie. I have never straight up lied to Mia before. She knows that I don't lie to her. But right now, I am desperate. Mia can't know. If Mia knows, then this becomes my truth. I can't pretend anymore that the whole thing with Milo is a misunderstanding, or that it's not real.

Mia eyes me suspiciously, assessing if she believes my words. "I came to your room in the middle of the night, but you weren't there. I searched all over, then heard your voice coming from Milo's room. Milo always makes a point to keep the door wide open, when you are in there. When I saw the door was closed… it didn't seem innocent. Then I saw you in Milo's shirt."

I am mortified. We tried so hard to shield Mia from all of our crude behavior. Not only did we expose her to it, but we also did it in the most hypocritical way possible.

She heard me. She heard me while I was in his locked room, doing God knows what, at the time she heard us. Shame is not the only thing coursing through my blood. Fear comes next.

"What did you tell Reid?"

Mia scoffs. "Are you asking if I divulged my suspicions to him? No, I haven't. I wouldn't do that."

I let out a sigh of relief. In a small voice, I manage to croak out, "Thank you. It's not what you think. I can explain."

"Did you sleep with Milo?" She asks again.

Mia thinks I am a virgin. I was the one who gave Mia her sex talk. Even if she saw me or heard me, it's believable that we have abstained from sex. I am not sure if I can dodge all the lines of questioning from Mia. So, I leave a little window open. She did catch me in a compromising situation. I might have to admit to some things while avoiding the larger truth.

"I stayed in his bed a few times."

"But you didn't have sex."

"No." I can't meet Mia's eyes. I fix my focus on the closed door behind her. I don't know what to say or how to begin to explain. Mia does it for me; her blue eyes are gleaming with anger.

"You know Rave, when you joined our family, I was ecstatic. I was so excited to finally have a sister. I just didn't know it was going to be at the price of destroying our family."

I open my mouth to gape at Mia. I feel like I have been struck. Before I can formulate a word, Mia continues her crusade.

"We all loved you: my dad, Reid, me, even my sick mom. And obviously, Milo liked you too," she sneers. "I always wondered about that crush. I just thought you were smarter than letting it get this far."

Dear Lord! She also thinks I have a crush on Milo, and I am chasing him. I am sitting on the bed, as Mia looks down at me with disgust. A look I never thought would be directed towards me.

"Please stop." I am on the verge of tears. I can deal with her words, but that look she is wearing on her face. I can't deal with that.

"No. You need to listen to what I have to say. I might be young but I am not stupid. I get that your parents left you. But so did mine. I might not act like it, but I also had to grow up sooner than my own age. You can't use the victim card to get out of this."

"I am no…"

"Shut up, Raven," Mia says through gritted teeth, as she cuts me off. She has already put a knife in my heart. All that's left to do is twist it. And Mia is on it.

I know how ruthless she can be when she wants to be. I have seen her cut down enough nannies who have dared to walk through the door. I thought I would never be on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. Never has arrived.

I know she is well-spoken and can utilize her words to her advantage. Mia used to be scared of public speaking. In Milo's usual fix-it mode, he enrolled her in a Toastmasters for Kids program. The organization gave her a fierce confidence and an extensive vocabulary.

Mia walks closer and takes a seat on my desk chair. She looks at me for a long while, as if choosing her next words carefully. "Milo used to tuck me into bed every night. When he left for college, he still did it on the days he was here. Once you moved in, I'd notice you often standing at my doorway, enviously staring at us while Milo tucked me in."

I open my mouth to tell her I wasn't jealous of Mia because she got Milo's attention. Not at all. I was sad. Mia had someone to look out for her. Someone who cared enough to tuck her in. I'd watch Milo talk to Mia. He'd ask about her day and what she learned in school. It made me miss my parents and the good old days, when they used to tuck me into bed.

I'm not able to explain my side to Mia. She glares at me, effectively silencing me. I lower my eyes. A thirteen-year-old is making me feel like I am on a time out.

"Reid used to die of jealousy. He hated how you worshipped Milo. All the girls we knew used to flirt with Milo. Reid thought it was funny, till you gave Milo all of your attention. He hated losing your attention to Milo."

Like the whole world, Mia has also misunderstood my feelings. Or so I think, till her next words.

"I knew you weren't staring at Milo tucking me in because you were pining after him. You were sad about your parents and jealous that someone cared enough to do that for me. You craved the attention Milo gave us. Reid didn't see it that way."

I am surprised at Mia's awareness of the situation. She always takes things lightly. I didn't realize she was so perceptive.

Mia's voice turns soft and husky; I can barely hear her next words. But I do not dare interrupt her, to ask her to speak up. "The more Reid saw your behavior, the more his personality changed for the worse. Jealousy made him into a completely different person. Angry. Lashing out. Rebellious. He and Milo used to be so close. Reid looked up to Milo. But they completely drifted apart once you moved in. You and Reid are attached to each other in such a codependent way. Without you, Reid doesn't know who he is. So he hated Milo for taking you away. You broke their bond."

I snap my eyes back to Mia. She is still shooting daggers at me with her eyes, silently daring me to make a sound. Having learned my place, I stay quiet.

"I didn't hate you, even though you were breaking my family apart. I knew it wasn't intentional. I assumed you'd snap out of it and realize Milo is just a person, not this God or idea that you made him out to be. Milo was forced into a difficult role at an early age. He stepped up to the plate. We all love him for it. He is the best person I know."

Mia swings my revolving chair side to side and shakes her head. "But he can't live up to these unrealistic expectations of the person you think he is. You were too engrossed, in the version of him you created in your head, to notice that he is just a man capable of weaknesses. You followed him around like a puppy, ready to do his bidding. Every month, every year, it just got worse."

Her voice rises as she grits out, "You wanted him to adore you, the way your parents didn't. He can't replace your parents, even if he took over your guardianship," Mia puts out both of her hands as if striking the air around her. "He was just a boy when you moved in. A boy, only a few years older than you. A boy, who relied on you for his own peace of mind. A boy, who thought a pretty girl liked him."

Mia stands up and starts pacing. I see sweat trickling down her forehead. "No one, other than Reid, took your crush seriously or expected Milo to reciprocate those feelings. It was beyond taboo between you two. Impossible."

"Except I knew it for what it was. No one else saw it, because they didn't live with us. Even the boys misunderstood. Reid and Milo are clueless when it comes to women. And why wouldn't they be? We have an insane mother, and neither of them has ever had a girlfriend or a healthy relationship with a woman."

Mia stops pacing and looks at me. "You were grateful to have Milo in your life, grateful to him for saving you from a life of loneliness. You were starved for something Reid and I couldn't give you, but Milo could. You wanted to hear a good girl and get a pat on the back."

She shakes her head again. "The boys didn't see it that way. Reid saw it as losing you to Milo. Milo saw it as you being infatuated with him. Maybe you are. I know you like alpha older men. But I don't know how you feel about Milo. If I had to guess, I’d say that you don’t either."

I can't argue with Mia. She is right, on all accounts. I don't respond. Mia wants to have her say. I owe it to her to listen to her without interrupting.

"I don't know exactly when things turned for Milo. But I saw it," she says quietly. "His eyes would light up every time you walked into the room. He'd watch you do simple things, washing the dishes or setting the table. I knew he was attracted to you, but I assumed he'd never act on it."

This is news for me. I didn't realize Milo's attraction was long-standing. But from everything Mia is saying, it sounds like she is the only one who saw everything in this house as it was. Despite her age, she is more cognizant than the rest of us. The rest of us are emotionally stunted, constantly misreading signals, or sending out mixed ones, never having an adult guide our emotional development. Mia is an exception because she had Milo.

I can see her anger is almost gone. Her blue eyes now look sad. I patiently wait for her to continue. "Reid worried about your crush on Milo. But it was never your crush that concerned me. You are not in touch with your feelings enough for that to be a problem. You don't even believe in romantic love. It was Milo's crush that worried me. He masked it so well that no one else noticed. The only reason I noticed is because Milo raised me. I know Milo. It was clear that he wanted you. He wanted you bad. When you left last summer, he went off the deep end. I tried my best not to give him a hard time and called him every day from Grand Cayman."

As if Mia can hear my thoughts, she answers the questions already generating in my mind. "Milo might have responsibilities far beyond his age, but he is just a twenty-year-old boy. He has flaws. As I said, I don't know the depth of his feelings. I just know he wants you."

Mia looks at me as if she is trying to make up her mind about something. "I never interfered before, with all the drama in the house. I didn't think I had to. I didn't think you would reciprocate his interest. I am guessing you still haven't made up your mind about how you feel about Milo."

If Mia's anger did not keep me quiet, her eloquent words and perception would stun me into silence. I cannot believe she read the situation, and me, so correctly.

She narrows her eyes at me. I can see some of her previous anger is coming back. "You can date anyone in the world. Why Milo? That is the only person Reid doesn't want to share you with. Not to mention how much it would hurt both of our families. Everyone will gossip. He is your guardian, for fuck's sake. He is your parent on paper. This will tear our lives apart if it gets out. If you guys are not in love or even serious enough to be having sex, then why the hell is all of this worth it?"

Now that Mia expects an answer, I am quiet. I have no answer for her. She is right. This is not worth turning our lives upside down for.

"It's not," I say quietly.

I take a deep breath in as I prepare the speech I am about to give. I hate this next part. I have to lie to her again. I can't acknowledge the extent of our taboo relationship.

"You are right that all three of us are clueless about healthy relationships. But you are wrong about Milo and I. Milo did have an attraction towards me. But it dissipated over the summer. We had some misunderstandings before I left for Paris. I am not going to bore you with the details. We had some intense conversations after I returned, on how to move forward, on how to rebuild trust. That's why I have been going to his room. We wanted to speak to each other while no one was around. That's why he has been closing the door. In the end, we both know we are good friends, and it was all a misunderstanding."

Mia's eyes soften, only a bit. I can still see that her guard is still up. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Positive," I say without hesitation. "This is all a misunderstanding—displaced feelings. You know how I calm Milo down when he gets anxiety. He just misunderstood that as an attraction. He got confused. As you said, Milo is allowed to make mistakes too." I never knew I was such a good liar. I should give myself the biggest liar award.

"So, you guys are not together?"

"Milo and I are definitely not together. You have to believe that."

Though I am lying through my teeth, I'll turn my lies into truths. I will end it the moment Milo is back. This relationship has run its course for me. I have a feeling that's not the case for Milo. He seems insatiable, rougher, hungrier each time we are together.

Nonetheless, I am hell bound on convincing Mia that this is over. I use my hands animatedly to get my point across. I find hand gestures to be a useful tool during arguments. "And come on, we all know Milo only does friends with benefits. That's the only relationship he knows how to be in. That's so not my style."

"I want to believe you, but this morning…"

"I fell asleep in Milo's bed. I know it's inappropriate. But you have to know it's innocent. We all used to fall asleep in his bed when we were younger. Now that we are older, it's hard to remember that it's not cool."

She looks unsurely at my profile, so I continue. "Do you feel any weirdness or tension when you see Alexa?"

"No, but…"

"Milo and I didn't even do anything. He had a stupid attraction and we talked it out. Alexa and he used to sleep together and there is literally zero weirdness between them. Which means there isn't anything to worry about. I swear Milo doesn't feel that way about me anymore. And I was never interested in Milo to begin with. I wouldn't do that to Reid." The last sentence takes all of my soul to spit out. I am a horrible, despicable human being.

"Okay, if you say so," Mia says, uncertainly.

"Mia, I am a mess. All of us are fuck-ups, except you. I am sorry I slept in Milo's room and crossed boundaries. I am sorry that I pissed Reid off by choosing Milo over him. But I can't lose you over this. Please don't be mad at me."

"You don't get it, do you? It's not me you should worry about."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Rave. Do you really not know?"

I just stare at Mia, dumbfounded, as she further shatters my world with the next bit of news that she shares with me. As if there weren't already enough reasons, her next bit of information hammers the nail into the coffin. And why I should have never started anything with Milo, nor can it ever happen again.

-----------

Raven

Today is D-Day. Milo comes home today.

I just got back from school, and I am now waiting impatiently for Milo to come home. I have been preparing this speech all weekend, and I don't want to put it off any longer. I am feeling confident, headstrong, ready to face him.

Over the last few days, I have barely spoken to Milo. He has been busy with meetings and presentation prep, so the timing hasn’t worked out between my school, study groups, and dance classes. At other times, I dutifully dodged his text messages, keeping replies short and cordial. I want to speak to him in person, not over the phone.

Reid is not home. And Mia is at a friend's house.

Mia and I did not have any more heavy talks since the day she confronted me. As far as she is concerned, this matter is behind us. And it is. Despite the lies I have gritted out, I will make this right.

I am staring at the front door, willing it to swing open. As if on cue, it does. In comes all of Milo's six-foot frame. He looks tired, puffy eyes, but the smile on his face is sincere. His whole face lights up when he sees me.

So much so that I almost lose my nerves at the thought of disappointing him.

Then his eyes darken as he takes in my school uniform. It's not any different than what I regularly wear. And it's nothing over the top sexy, like the outfit Brittany Spears made famous in her music video.

Nonetheless, he eyes me hungrily. He charges towards me with an almost dark energy. I can feel his sheer want directed at me, ready to ravish, prepared to mark me. Heat resonates through him, as his desire engulfs and suffocates the whole room.

Instinctively, I run around the coffee table. "Stop."

And he does. Milo freezes right where he is, looking surprised at my loud pitch and hostile tone. Good. I have the floor.

"Raven," he frowns. "What's going on?"

I steel my nerves and square my shoulders. I have to be direct and confrontational. Instead of rambling, I need to get straight to the point. "This… this thing between us is not working for me. And right now, I don't want you coming any closer."

Milo looks shocked, taken back, and… hurt. Damn. He stays put, which is good. I need distance between us. I am still apprehensive and nervous.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Whatever was happening between us, it's over," I say determinedly.

"No, it's not," Milo narrows his eyes, his voice is eerily steady.

"Yes, it is. We are over." I look straight at him, refusing to break eye contact or back down.

"No, we most definitely are not." His voice rises as he enunciates each word.

I stare at Milo. I might not have all the experience in the world with men, but I know this much. If one party wants to end things, the other doesn't have a choice in the matter.

"Milo… I-I um," I start to stammer. How does he always manage to make me feel like such a child? I take a deep breath. "We need to end this now, before it gets out of control. Mia already suspects something is going on between us. She caught me coming out of your room, and she can tell that you want me. I convinced her that it's nothing. But it's too close of a call."

"Okay…" Milo nods, the severity of our situation settling in. "And it's freaking you out?"

"Of course, it's freaking me out. What kind of question is that?"

Milo looks hurt, again. I hate this. I try in a softer tone, "This is too complicated. I don't want to risk what we all have here. It's better if we just go back to how it was."

"I don't want to go back to how it was. I will tone it down around Mia. We will be more careful from now on."

"No," I say hurriedly as panic sets in. I try to wipe my clammy hands on my skirt. He is making me feel like an insane person for making rational choices.

Milo lifts a hand and runs it through his hair, as he studies me suspiciously. "Is this about something more? Did I do something wrong? I know I have been gone for a few days. I tried to call and text…"

"It's not that. It's nothing you did," I cut him off. I can't bear to see the agony in his face but I have to stay on course. I don't want to be his fuck buddy anymore. Why is that so hard for him to believe?

I look all over the room, praying for divine intervention; anything that will make him understand. “Look, we tried the whole friends with benefits thing. Personally, I have outgrown it. You are one of my closest friends and legally my guardian. We still have to live together in the same house. So let’s be adults about this.”

Milo gapes at me, like I have lost my mind. “What the hell Raven! Do you think I risked everything in our lives to have a fuck buddy. You think that’s what we are?”

“Well, not anymore.”

“This is not about sex,” Milo yells. He breathes heavily, in an attempt to steady his temper. He finally speaks in a lower, but still angry, tone. “Where the hell is this even coming from?”

I narrow my eyes at him. Is he really going to pretend like I am the stupidest human being on earth? “You sleep around with your female friends. And then you guys go back to being just friends. The only type of relationship you do is friends with benefits,” I declare as slowly as I can, throwing his own condescending tone back at him.

“You know about my past?”

“Everyone does.”

Milo stares at me for a long while, like he has no idea what to say. “Yes,” he starts apprehensively. “I did sleep with some of my female friends. Not all of them, but a few. I am not proud of it. If that makes you uncomfortable, they don’t have to be in my life anymore. I don’t want anything from them, other than a cordial friendship.”

“Why can’t you extend the same respect to me?” I say haughtily. “I would also like the courtesy of a friendship.”

“For God’s sake Raven, you are not my fuck buddy. Christ! I am not that desperate for sex. You are the one who always teases me about my groupies, remember? If that was all I wanted, you must know I have other options.” Milo sounds incredibly frustrated.

He looks right into my eyes, piercing me with his green orbs. “Rave, I am sorry if I gave you that impression,” he says softly. “You are not my fuck buddy,” he repeats. “You are just mine. I love you. I always have. I am so in love with you that it hurts. I know that you love me too. You told me so yourself. How can you even compare what we have to those girls? Jesus! It’s like you are so emotionally damaged, sometimes I don’t even know how to reach you. I thought you understood how I felt,” he shakes his head. “I thought wrong.”

It’s my turn to gape. I am staring at Milo like he has grown three heads. I don’t have any sensible comeback to his proclamations.

Milo can’t love me. Not like that. It’s not possible.

Suddenly, Mia's words come back to me. Milo's attraction started because he thought I was into him. If I tell him the truth, maybe his feelings will fade as well, and he will move on. We can move on from this. We have to.

"I want to be honest with you, Milo. This was all a huge misunderstanding. I am not interested in you like that. I never was."

"I don't believe that for a second," Milo says without any hesitation.

He strides towards me, reaching out for me with his hand. I stay behind the round coffee table, using the circle as leverage to run away from his grasp.

"Milo, I made a mistake." I hold up my hand, indicating him to stay away. "I… I gave you and everyone the wrong impression. Everyone thought I had a crush on you but that was not the case. I never knew other people saw it that way. And after I got back from Paris, things got out of hand. I didn't even realize what was happening. This was all a miscommunication."

Even as I say it, it sounds insane.

Echoing my sentiments, Milo bellows, "Are you fucking kidding me?" He yells so loud that it's pin-drop silence as his voice dies down in the hallway. "We have been sleeping together this entire fall. You are telling me that was all a miscommunication?"

Milo looks around manically, a tinge of desperation evaporating from him. Like he has no idea what to make of all this. He walks around the coffee table again. I immediately move in the opposite direction, deflecting any physical proximity.

"Please stop. Just let me explain."

"Okay," anger spews from Milo's eyes, as he stops pacing. He folds his arms to his chest. "Please. Go ahead, explain," Milo says sarcastically.

Ideally, he'd be sitting and calm while we talk. Unfortunately, I don't have that luxury. I have to work with what I got. And I have to do this under Milo's unnerving gaze and tense posture.

"It was hard when my parents left," I start from the beginning. "I was completely deserted, and I had no one. I never told anyone exactly how hard it was. I didn't want to be a charity case. Even Reid missed some of it, but you saw through it," my eyes flicked up to his.

Milo's eyes are unforgiving; his face is entirely void of any expression.

I take in a deep breath and continue. "When you offered to take over my guardianship, it meant the world to me. You meant everything to me. I wanted to do everything to help you. I knew Reid and Mia were giving you a hard time. I knew college was difficult as well. I tried to pick up as many responsibilities as I could, to make your life easier. I didn't want to be another chore for you. I wanted you to be glad that I joined this family and not regret your decision to be my guardian."

"That never crossed my mind," Milo says with a bewildered look.

"I know that now," I say softly. "I didn't always understand that. I'd follow you around for an acknowledgment of that. I wanted to make you proud. You were my hero," I say with a sad smile and quickly add, "You still are."

"Okaaay. Then what is the probl…"

"You are my hero because you are my guardian. That's how I see you. I didn't realize me looking for your attention and approval made it seem like I had feelings for you. I swear Milo, it wasn't like that. It wasn't until Reid and Mia brought up…"

"Reid suspects something too?"

"No," I shriek. I steady my voice and give my head a sharp shake. "No," I say again. "Reid is the one who made me realize that my behavior came off as me acting like I was romantically inclined towards you. I was trying to be helpful, but in reality, I was acting like a fool. I assured him there was nothing there. Reid would hate me if he found out otherwise."

I start to pace on my side of the table. I can feel Milo's eyes moving with me. "Everyone thought I was infatuated with you. I get why. Both Reid and Mia suspected the same and pointed out that I was sending mixed signals."

I look straight at Milo. I want to portray my sincerity and how sorry I am. "I swear, Milo. I didn't know I was acting like that. I just had no idea that's how it looked to other people. That's why I left for Paris so suddenly. I thought I was embarrassing myself and wanted to learn how to behave more appropriately."

"Fine. You can make an excuse that your innocent gestures were coming off as something different. Mixed signals. But what about after you came back from Paris? There were no mixed signals while we were having sex."

"Milo, I didn't…" I don't know how to explain that portion. "When I got back, you just seemed so sure. You were so confident about what we were doing. I didn't know what to do."

"So let me get this straight. You realized that you were giving me mixed signals so you ran away to Paris. And after you came back to fix your mixed signals, you slept with me instead."

He is right. My words and actions are entirely contradictory. Who in their right mind would do that, and then let it go on for so long?

I try to explain it anyway. "That first time we did it, you had a panic attack, and you said you needed me. I went along with it because I love you. But I thought it was a one-time thing—"

"And all the other times?"

"I just… I don't know how things got so out of control. I know it's frustrating to hear. I am sorry I am such a mess."

"You told me you loved me, the night of your seventeenth birthday party," Milo says quietly.

"And I do. I love you. Just not in that way. I later realized you might have misunderstood me. I thought you were sending me to Paris to shake me off my girlie crush, which I didn't even have."

"We kissed that night. Did you mean that differently as well?"

"What? We didn't kiss the night of my party." I frown. I don't know what he is talking about.

His eyes move all over my face. "I came to your room that night to talk to you. We kissed."

I am dumbstruck. "Shit, Milo." I am ashamed. He is going to hate the next part. "I was really drunk that night. Plus, Reid and I got high," I lower my eyes. "I am sorry. I don't remember us kissing."

"What the hell, Raven!" Milo blows up. "You promised me you'd never get blacked out drunk. You promised you'd be safe. I let you drink wine at home. I let you drink at parties. I let you stay out. I give you so much freedom. I want to trust you, but you keep breaking my trust. Getting trashed, smoking pot. What if someone took advantage of you in that state? Did you even consider the consequences of your actions?"

"See, right there! Reason 101 of why this doesn't work. I can't even have an honest conversation with you. It's like the lines between you being a parent versus a lover are severely blurred. For God's sake, you can't fuck me one minute, and be disciplining me the next about drinking and smoking pot."

Both of us glare at each other.

I give in first. "Look, I am sorry. You are right. Those were not safe choices. I shouldn't have done that. But that doesn’t change the matter at hand. I don’t feel that way about you. I should have been more upfront. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are one of my closest friends. I would like us to go back to being that."

"No," he says, definitively.

"Milo, you can't say that."

"I can." Milo's eyes are hard with defiance.

"Milo, please, you are one of my best friends. I can't lose you."

Milo eyes me but says nothing more. Turning his back to me, he starts to walk out.

"Milo, please don't be angry. Don't leave like this." I desperately follow him, trying to make him understand.

He opens the door before I can reach him.

"Milo!" I scream as panic settles in. He is leaving me!

Milo doesn't respond, as he slams the door behind him, leaving me in a pool of tears.

CHAPTER 8

November 2nd, 2015

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Raven

The last few weeks have been the worst of my life. I’ve signed up for more study sessions than ever before, trying to keep busy. Wellington is one of those pretentious prep schools, allowing students to “grow” at their own pace. This means we are allowed to get ahead of the syllabus if we so choose. As long as we complete all of our projects, assignments, and exams, we can be done with our school year earlier than scheduled. I am done with all of my electives and cores. I can do a remote internship in Paris next semester and still graduate with Reid. The thought is tempting.

I am starting to feel out of my mind in New York City. And in this house. Everything reminds me of Milo. I need to get away for my own sanity.

It’s been a couple of weeks since our big blow out. Milo walked out on me after I begged him not to leave me. He has not returned since then. I never thought he would leave me like that.

After he left, Milo started a text thread with all of us, giving us some bullshit excuse of having to stay on campus for the next few weeks because of his "grueling" school schedule and the app. Then he called the nanny to extend her stay.

Now I understand why Mia hates nannies. As long as the nanny is here, Milo is not coming back. I am starting to loathe the poor woman even though she has done nothing wrong.

Milo gave the nanny specific instructions for things that need to be done around the house. He also makes her check up on Reid, making sure he is home by dinner time on weekdays, finishing his chores, and his schoolwork. Milo has managed to keep an eagle eye on his siblings, even from afar.

I assumed Milo would have to return home sooner than later, before Mia threw the biggest shitstorm on earth. So imagine my surprise when I found out that Uncle Reese and Tessa are coming back from Cayman Islands.

Milo called Uncle Reese and told him that he was too overwhelmed with school and the new business. Milo has never asked Uncle Reese for help before. Being the good father that he is, Uncle Reese didn’t interrogate Milo. He took a leave of absence and took the first flight home. They will be here for at least a month.

Which really means, Milo is not coming back. At least, not anytime soon.

Apparently, he stops by Mia’s school on select days, to walk her home or take her out for a milkshake. She also gets daily phone calls from him. So does Reid.

I do not.

No calls. No texts. No responses to my calls or texts.

The first week after he left, my heart gave out when the phone rang, a text alert went off, or I heard the door. I kept hoping that he was back. Hell, I was even ready to sit through another one of his useless lectures about drinking and safety.

Nothing!

Just like the hollowness inside of me. I can’t take the radio silence from him anymore.

Why is it so unforgivable that I wanted to end things between us? Given our relation to one another, Milo must've known there was an expiration date to our illicit sexual relationship.

Still, I have messaged him so many times, begging him for forgiveness. He never messages me back, unless it's related to his responsibilities as my guardian or something about the household. His messages are curt and to the point. He is clearly available but doesn't want to deal with me.

I understand that he is hurt. But I am having a hard time believing that Milo loves me. If Milo wanted more from me, other than sex, he had plenty of opportunities to voice it. He never indicated otherwise. The moment I wanted to end things, he magically decides that he loves me?

He probably thinks I will have sex with him again, if he says he loves me. This is about his big fucking ego. He can't comprehend that beautiful women throw themselves at him, and little old me doesn't want to have sex with him anymore. His pride is the reason he can’t look past himself, and think about me.

All this time, I thought he’d never leave me. He is yet another disappointment, just like my parents. If he couldn’t get what he wanted out of me, I ceased to exist.

This is so unfair. It was not my call to start this sexual relationship. Milo initiated it, so why do I have to lose one of my best friends? I hate feeling this way. I have been wallowing for weeks now. How much more of this shit can I humanely take?

I want to be angry at him but I can't. I can't hate him. No matter what, I could never hate Milo.

Three Weeks Later

-----------

Raven

I hate Milo. There, I said it. I never thought I’d even think those words. But I do. I hate him.

It's been more than a month since Milo walked out on me. I still had hope that we could fix this. Now that hope has been replaced with anger. So much anger.

A few weeks ago, Milo picked up Reid and Mia after school to take them out for a “siblings dinner”. I was conveniently left off the guest list. He selected a day when he knew I had dance class.

The same thing happened again. And then again.

As to not cause suspicion, Milo started texting all three of us on our group thread, suggesting hang sessions on the days he knows I have dance classes, study sessions, or other commitments. I have no choice but to say no.

Soon, Uncle Reese started joining these “family dinners”, since this is the first time he is not actively working. So the whole family, minus Tessa, now regularly get together. And it's deemed that I am too busy to attend, due to my own overloaded schedule. Not only is he ignoring me, but he is also making me feel left out of my own family. He is taking them away from me.

How much longer can he pull this shit?

Doesn't he care about me even a little?

Of course he doesn’t. He wanted me for my body. And when I refused him, he had no more use for me. And now he is getting back at me for hurting his pride.

He is no better than my parents.

Yet, here I am, decorating the house for Milo. I am blowing up balloons and working on decorations for Milo’s surprise party, for his twenty-first birthday tomorrow.

I am making the same mistakes over and over again. I am still giving away too much of myself. And it's worse with Milo. My parents were neglectful. They broke my heart but didn’t take anything from me. Not really. But with Milo, I gave him everything he wanted. And the minute I put my own needs before his, he left me. Just like they did.

That first week Milo left, I would have taken any chance to be around him. Make him see reason. Apologize again and again. But based on how he has treated me in the last few weeks, I don't want to be around him.

The last thing I want to do is attend his stupid birthday dinner or the silly party afterward. Except, I don’t have a choice. As angry as I am, I can’t let Reid or Mia know why I don’t want to attend the party; the party I have been personally planning since last year.

So here I sit, alone on a Friday night, setting up the house and putting up birthday decorations. I am  giving myself away for yet another man who broke me.

-----------

Milo

I chug my remaining beer and wait for the buzz. It doesn't come. This must be my fifth beer tonight, and my judgment is still not impaired. Asher should ask for a refund from the liquor store. If I can’t get tipsy at this party, this is going to be even more insufferable than I imagined.

Reid and Raven organized my twenty-first birthday party and put Asher in charge of liquor, since they needed someone over twenty-one to purchase it. Asher obviously failed at his job, since this shitty defective alcohol doesn’t even get me buzzed.

The whole family, including my mom (shockingly), took me out for a birthday dinner earlier in the night. They have been planning this “surprise” party for months, scheduling an intricate family dinner beforehand to get me out of the house. Afterwards, my parents made arrangements to take Mia with them, to stay overnight at the Plaza. They decided to give us the whole house, so it could be a proper rager.

I knew about this party, even before they brought me back here for the big reveal. It was all very obvious. I should be thrilled, but I am not. I haven't been thrilled in quite a while.

Last month, I went out of town for a few days. I would have never left had I known how drastically things would change.

I was already out of my mind, missing Raven like crazy when I got back into town. Raven was just starting to come around, being more open with me, even initiating sex a few times. I thought we were finally on the same page until she pulled the rug right out from under me.

Raven told me she wasn’t interested in me; sleeping together was a huge misunderstanding. I was about to lose my mind.

That girl pursued me for years. Coming to my room, curling up in my bed, constantly calling and texting me. For God’s sake, who gives up their virginity in a miscommunication? None of it made any sense. As if to twist the knife, Raven said she didn't mean it when she said she loved me.

She decided it was over, without so much as a discussion. I couldn’t listen to it anymore. I walked away. Raven always needs time to process. It was my turn. I had to cool off before I did something I regretted.

Then it hit me. Raven is freaking out because of Mia’s suspicions. I really should have shipped Mia off to boarding school when I had the chance.

Raven went on full denial mode, saying things to justify what’s been going on between us. Even denying her own proclamations of being in love with me. She doesn’t know what she wants. And like always, I know what she wants, even when she doesn’t.

I decided to give her some time to think about it, to let her stew in her own crazy mind.

It was the best decision. I was still worried about other guys with Raven. My trust issues have not completely evaporated. So I asked dad to come home for a month, to take over the household responsibilities. Between him, and the nanny, I am able to keep an eye on her even from a distance. From what I hear, she hasn’t been anywhere other than school, home and dance classes.

Not surprisingly, after I left Raven started calling me religiously and sending me a steady stream of texts. I didn’t answer any of them unless they related to my responsibilities. I am letting her miss me for a change.

Yes, not the most mature way to deal with things, but I don't know how else to make her see reason. No two people on this earth have ever had something so undeniable between them as we do.

I hope she had the time she needed to think and conclude that we belong together. She has to because I can't live like this. I have already suffered for years holding back from Raven. I can’t do it anymore. I thought last summer without her was terrible. After having her under me last summer was a child’s play in comparison.

Problem is, Raven needs more time than a normal human being to figure shit out. She never realizes what she has till she doesn’t have it anymore. I figured that by my birthday party, she would finally get all this shit sorted in her head.

In the interim, I have been bunking with Brandon. Brandon is not the kind of guy who asks a lot of questions. I have been skipping classes, drinking heavily, and drowning in my misery in his spare bedroom. Brandon didn’t even ask what's wrong. It’s exactly what I needed, because I am in my own personal hell.

I mean it. This is what I assume my hell would feel like. My mind is continuously raging, and my heart is being ripped out every minute of the day.

After what I have been going through, a party is the last thing I want. But today is the day I plan to get some answers. I need to gage Raven’s reaction and make her face our reality.

Except, Raven has gone back to her personification of an ice princess. Throughout dinner, she made a point to keep the conversation light, barely making eye contact with me or acknowledging me. It was infuriating. It took everything in me to keep calm.

And now we are back at the house for a rager I don’t want, with a bunch of people I don’t care to see. I keep scanning the party for her face. But she has made her presence scarce.

I am worried about what she might be up to. This party is wilder than our usual parties because Mia is not in the house. Thoughts of drugs and Raven with other men stir my paranoia.

Personally, I don’t understand the stupid objectives of these parties anymore: beer pong, keg stands, getting your dick wet.

Why would I shoot a ping pong ball in a cup to encourage another asshole to drink? Why would I want someone to hold me upside down to drink beer?

And I don’t need to be at a grimy party to get some half-drunk chick back to my place. Not that I have any interest in any of them. There is only one person my eyes continually search for.

I already know she ruined me for all other women. Even before Raven and I got together, fucking other women was hollow. I couldn’t even get off unless I thought of her. Empty fucks!  Now that I have been inside her, other women have ceased to exist completely. There is no one else for me. I know that.

Despite that fact, the only person I am interested in is nowhere to be found, which is worrisome. The moment she walked in, half the assholes here whipped their heads in her direction. They didn’t even try to hide their leering eyes. I can only stare down so many fuckers.

If I could just hold her hand or make a public claim, I wouldn’t have these murderous urges. These assholes would automatically get the message and move on to the next unsuspecting prey.

Even if I cannot make a public claim, if I knew she was mine behind closed doors, it would give me solace. I don’t even have that assurance anymore.

How the hell did everything go so wrong?

Actually, I know how.

Something in me snapped when I saw her for the first time after she got back from Paris. I couldn’t stop myself and pounced on her. I shouldn’t have done it for several reasons. But at the very least, I should have waited till she was eighteen, finished with school, and my guardianship was over.

Raven deserves to be paraded around and spoiled. I hate hiding her, and feeling like this is a dirty secret. It’s not. If we were both of age, we would still face a lot of scrutinies, but we wouldn’t necessarily have to hide. We would have a leg to stand on against our families and society.

Which is silly. You don’t turn eighteen and magically become more mature. Raven is wise far beyond her age, painfully understanding, poised, classy. I say that despite her recent insane proclamations and wishy-washy turmoils.

Yes. She is emotionally stunted. But she can still carry herself like a princess.

Actually, she carries herself like a queen. Because that’s what she is. She is a queen, and I am nothing but her devoted servant.

Hence, I need to numb the agony inside me. I need just a little buzz, to make tonight tolerable, till I can talk to Raven and fix things between us.

Annoyed, I chuck the beer can in the trash and walk around the house. Since Mia is not here, we allowed the herd to party all over the house, except for the top most floor where we sleep. That's always off-limits.

My eyes search for her again when I hear the alert go off on my phone. Text from Reid.

Met a college hottie. Going back to her place. I’ll be safe. Have a good birthday.

Ok, sounds good.

I shake my head at my brother. Reid follows the rules I set. He comes home on time on the weekdays and is honest with me about his whereabouts on the weekends. As long as he does that, I can't stop Reid from sleeping around. At least I gave him the sex talk. I have to trust that I did right by him, and he is making good choices. God forbid the day comes when I have to deal with Mia doing this crap. I can’t even fathom.

Some of my anxiety comes back, as dark thoughts of my siblings and an uncertain future with Raven haunt my mind. I breathe in and out and try to focus on my breath with images of her.

She is my salvation, my fighting chance against these thoughts. She is my drug of choice, a pure addiction. And right now, I need a hit. I need to see her.

I zigzag through the rooms, and ditch the prying claws of interested females. Jaci is the first to try to grab me, offering up something to the extent of birthday sex. Not interested! When will they learn? I haven’t shown interest in any of them for months now.

As politely as I can, I shake Jaci off. My eyes are searching for someone else. Finally, I spot Raven. She is standing outside the back entrance of the brownstone. I can see her through the transparent screen door. I take an uninterrupted moment to stare at her.

My starved eyes take her in. She is so strikingly beautiful. I saw her only an hour ago, yet every time I see her feels like the first time.

She looks like the epitome of an erotic snow white. Her long jet black hair is hanging low to her waist. Her perfect pale skin looks warm and flushed. The gloss on her rosy lips is making them look even more kissable.

The thin straps of her black dress highlight her narrow shoulder while showing off just a bit of cleavage. The dress stops at mid-thigh. It could be modest, were it not for her high heeled shoes. The five-inch red bottoms prop up her legs and ass, making the dress drip with sexiness.

Designer shoes are another continuous form of gifts from Raven’s absentee mother. Raven has become a sucker for them and makes sure we all know what they are. Her collection of red bottom heels is among her most prized possessions.

It’s almost inhumane to stand here and not be able to touch her. She is gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Actually, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen on this planet. I can’t compare her to anyone or anything. She is just so uniquely her.

And it’s killing me.

I hear her soft laugh, and my heart lurches. She is talking to someone, but I can only see her through the screen door. The other person is standing outside my view, blocked by the wall.

As soon as I start towards her, I freeze. I see a set of lips on her and a hand on her face.

What the fuck!

My legs carry me over to the back entrance, swinging the door open with such force that the screen almost breaks.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I yell out.

Raven whips her head in my direction. “Milo…,” Raven is looking at me, shocked.

My hands are already in fists. I am about to kill that motherfucker who dared touch her when it hits me who it is. It’s none other than Asher fucking Huntzburger.

Asher, who is our family friend and one of my best friends. Asher, who is one of my business partners. Asher, who is my age and goes to Columbia with me.

“Shit, man,” Asher starts.

I grab Raven’s arm, moving her behind me. I am going to kill Asher and bury him six feet deep.

“Listen, man, I know she is like your little sister…”

I don’t let Asher finish. I completely lose it for two reasons. First the obvious, his lips were on hers a second go. Second, he called her my fucking sister.

Grabbing the cocksucker by his collar, I get ready to end him. Asher’s eyes are the size of saucers, completely thrown off.

I black out as I find myself throwing punch after punch at Asher, whaling on him without direction. My vision is blurred. I think most of them land, because I see blood on my fists.

I find Asher lying on the ground when my sanity returns. I have only stopped because Raven has wrapped herself around the front of my body. I want to charge at him again, but she is hugging my front and screaming.

“Oh God, Milo! Please stop. You are going to kill him. Are you fucking insane?”

“Yes,” I shout, as I roughly grab her by the elbow and charge back inside the house.

A crowd has already gathered around a badly bruised Asher, who is still lying on the ground. I see a couple of our other friends coming to help him. They know where the first aid kit is, or they can take him to a hospital. I don’t care.

I am sure they all heard the hysteria and figured it out. Mia and Raven are off-limits to those hounds. Everyone knows it. Asher knows it.

They were told a long time ago; this is how it will end if they ever touch Raven or Mia. Those were always the house rules. No one will hold this against me, and Asher knows that he fucked up.

Either way, I am too angry to care about Asher or his feelings. I am shaking, and I can barely steady my temper. I leave Asher to be dealt with by our friends and drag Raven inside.

“We are going upstairs, right now,” I growl in her ear.

Without giving her a chance to respond, I walk with manic speed. She tries to say a few confused words of protest but decides to focus on walking up the stairs in her high heeled shoes.

Within a couple of minutes, we reach the topmost floor of our house.

“Milo, what the hell was that?” Raven starts. I don’t respond as I lead her through the hallway.

“Look, not that it's any of your business, but I think Asher just had a lot to drink and got carried away. You should have respected me enough to let me deal with it,” Raven continues. “Ash is not a bad guy. You know that. You shouldn’t have done that. It was out of line.”

Raven gives out an exasperated sigh. “Can you please speak to me?”

“Don’t ever say his fucking name again,” I turn around and scream so loud that Raven looks terrified. How is that for a response?

I shouldn’t scare her right now, especially after I beat a guy half to death in front of her. But I don’t care. I don't care if he kissed her out of nowhere. She shouldn’t be saying his name or calling him by a nickname like Ash, as if he has a place in her heart. The thought alone makes me want to go back and murder him. Finish the job I started.

The events from tonight have my mind spiraling. The thought of seeing her with another guy makes me see death.

My decision is made up. Raven is mine and mine only. I will not allow her to keep living in denial. We belong together. She needs to come to the same conclusion.

I wrap my hand around her tiny waist and lead her to my room. I haul Raven inside, closing the door behind us and locking us in. I immediately grab her and push her up against the wall by the door.

“If he even looks at you again, I will kill him. And I will kill any other fucker who ever touches you,” I say quietly, with immense silent anger. Raven stares at me. She knows I mean it.

Raven looks scared but stays put. All of my anger and rage take over, turning into predatory want. Wrapping one hand around her waist, I place another hand on her cheek. I smash my lips onto hers. I am kissing her hard. I don’t give her an inch to doubt this, licking her lips with my tongue.

When she doesn’t open her lips, I place one thumb on her bottom lip, and part them, slipping my tongue in. Her body shakes a little as I explore her with my hand, moving it up the side of her waist. God, I missed this. I missed this so fucking much.

“Milo, stop.” Raven puts her hands on my chest, trying to create distance.

I am having none of that. Grabbing her small hands, I pin them on the wall, as I burn Raven with my eyes. “I am the only one who is allowed to touch you. To feel you. To feel this.”

Raven stays paralyzed. Picking her up, I carry her to the bed. I drop her down and grab at the hem of her dress.

“Milo, I can’t,” Raven shrieks. “I already told you, I can’t do this anymore.”

“For fuck’s sake, Rave. I know Mia gave you a scare, but you can’t pull away like this. We want each other. This is no one else’s business but ours.”

“Milo…”

“Raven, I can’t look at you, be around you, and not be with you. This is torture for me. You are so beautiful. And so perfect. I miss you. I miss being with you. Don’t you miss me?”

“Not like that, I don’t,” Raven looks down and mutters. “I am sorry. I let this go on for too long. This is not just because of Mia. I don’t want you.”

“You do, you are overanalyzing this as you do with everything else.”

“I am not. Get it through your head; this is over.”

“No, it’s not.” I grab her chin and go back to kissing her while slipping off her shoes.

I need to connect with her. I want to feel her squirm under me. It's been too long. I need to remind her how good it is between us. I slide her dress up with my hand, bunching it around her waist. Reaching for her black thong, I pull it down.

Raven starts pushing at my chest again, to create distance. Not happening. My hands grab her thighs as I sit on my knees in between her parted legs.

“Milo, please, stop.”

“Please baby, I need this,” I moan. “It’s my birthday, and all I want is you.”

I am still sliding my hands up and down her naked thighs, my thumb brushing against her bare pussy every so often.

“No,” Raven says firmly. I don’t budge. “No,” she says again, but this time lets out a moan. She is distracted as my thumbs rub her bare pussy, teasing her.

“What are you saying no to?” I whisper in her hair.

“I am saying no to you. I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t want to be with you. I am saying no to all of it.” Raven says, breathing heavily.

Gripping her hips, I circulate her pussy lips with my thumbs. She waxes, so I know the friction creates an unbearable sensation on her smooth lips.

“How can you say that?” I slowly stroke inside her pussy with my thumb. As predicted, Raven is soaking wet. She tries to push me off again, but I am double her size. I am unmovable.

“Milo, we can’t. We talked about this.”

“You talked, I listened,” I murmur in her ears. “Now, just listen to your body. Do you feel this?” Raven moans out as my fingers circulate her opening, getting her more ready. “Yes, that’s it, baby. Don’t over-analyze this.”

I turn my face to kiss her cheek. Raven flutters her eyes shut and arches her back as I wrap one hand around her waist, keeping the tempo going with the other. Dutifully, I kiss her face, biting her jaw, sucking her neck, all those things just the way she likes it.

She looks lost. This is it. This is what I have been craving for weeks. Before then, I craved it for years. I can’t stop now. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

Out of nowhere, Raven shrieks, shocking me out of my lust high mind. “No,” Raven grabs my wrist. “Enough Milo, I don’t want to do this anymore. I already told you.”

I am baffled. Did Mia’s words have that much of an impact on her? I told her how I felt. She is ready to give up on us because of what a thirteen-year-old child thinks.

I glare at her. “Your body is saying something different.”

I push her onto her back, putting my hand on her stomach to brace her. I stretch out over her lower body and immediately start to eat her out.

“Milo, please stop. My word should be enough.”

I don’t stop. Raven told me multiple times. I should, but I can’t.

There is an insatiable hunger in me that won’t let me stop. I need to taste her, taste what's mine, make her understand what she means to me. It’s unbearable, mind-wiping, primal instinct that keeps me going. My tongue has no finesse, just going crazy on her pussy.

Raven’s eyes close on their own accord. Her fingers land in my hair, grabbing hard, reminding me exactly how she likes it. “We can’t… oh God,” Raven pants.

“We can,” I say, between lapping her folds. I start to use more technique, finding precisely the spots that make her squeeze tight.

“Fuck,” Raven sobs. I can feel her crescendo building, tears seeping out of her eyes as she squeezes. She is yanking my hair as if she is about to pull it out.

Soaking wet tightness builds up. Her back arches, eyes are rolling back and fluttering. The silent scream from her parted lips gains volume, with shuttering whimpers and cries. My fantasy is back to life, and the real thing is always so much more erotic than my dreams.

“Fuck. Fuck! Ah. I’m fucking—holy shit. I am coming.” And she does. Hard.

Raven tries to catch her breath from her orgasm as I work my way up to her. I have already started unfastening my jeans, as I push them down along with my boxers. Grabbing at the hem of my shirt, I pull it over my head. I grab onto Raven’s thighs and immediately slip inside her.

Fuck. Me.

“Shit baby, oh God,” I moan as I kiss her like the hungry, deprived man that I am. I kiss her all over her face, her neck, and slowly nibble on her breasts.

Lifting her thighs, I start going as deep as I can. This is heaven. This is home. Being with her fills my soul in a way I can’t explain. She is my missing part. Without her, I am always going to be incomplete.

I am fucking her like a crazy man. Like a deprived man, taking what’s his. I am pushing in deep and pounding her ass into the mattress. My own orgasm catches me off guard, as I burst into her, roaring into her ears. The absence of her body for so long brings about the most excruciating climax I have ever had.

I press my forehead against hers, finally having the fix I needed. We are breathing on each other, as we are both trying to catch our breaths.

I slowly pull out and take her in my arms. I hold her tight, hoping to mold her into me. I never want to let her go.

Raven lies compliant on the mattress. I sit up on my knees and haunches, so I can stare down at the work of art that she is. Staring at her can quickly become my favorite pastime.

Raven is not making eye contact, turning her face away from me, and looking towards the window. I stroke her hair and try to turn her face back to me. She bats my hand away.

“You shouldn't have done that,” she mutters so quietly, I can barely hear her.

“Why?”

“I said no. You should have stopped.”

“You were gripping my hair so hard; I was scared you would rip my hair out if I dared to stop.” I deadpan.

Raven doesn’t respond.

“It has never been like this with any else. Even with your limited experience, you must know I am right. You came within a minute of me going down on you.” I raise my eyebrow and smirk at her.

Raven still doesn’t respond. She slowly gets up from my bed to get dressed. I watch her.

It starts to sink in that I fucked up tonight. I shouldn’t have pushed her. I should have stopped when she told me to. And right now, she seems pissed. She is calm, but there is a flair about her that's telling me not to fuck with her.

As she finishes, she creaks the door open. I want to tell her with all of my soul, not to leave. That I will fall apart again without her. But I stay put and just watch her.

Raven turns her head towards me and finally speaks, “Happy birthday Milo.”

With those words, she is gone, leaving me once again to drown in my misery.

-----------

Raven

Avoiding Milo has been requiring all of my organizational skills. Ever since his birthday party, I have made it my life’s mission to not be around him alone.

I told him to stop. I told him multiple times. Yes, my body responded to him. And once we started, I didn’t protest anymore. Still. He should have respected my decision the first time I said no. Men are supposed to stop when you say no. Right? I have never experienced otherwise.

I try to block that thought out. I have to if I am going to keep living with him since Milo has officially moved back home.

Instead, I try to justify his actions. After all, I was being very physically reactive when he started going down on me. It didn’t help that Asher kissed me that night, sparking Milo’s jealousy.

What the hell was Asher thinking anyways? One minute we were talking, and the next minute he grabbed and kissed me. I didn’t kiss him back. Along with giving the wrong signals, I must also be terrible at ending things with men. I have a limited past, but they all pop back up.

I heard through the grapevine that Milo is kicking Asher out of their business. When they drew up the contract for the company, Milo was a fifty percent owner since he funded the initial expenses. The rest of them split the remaining percentages.

Milo came into his trust fund after his twenty-first birthday and is apparently talking to a lawyer to give a small sum of that money to Asher, in exchange for buying him out. I am not sure how he will convince Asher to sign the papers, but Milo is a force of nature when he wants to be.

During Milo’s birthday party, he showed me how much of a force of nature he can be. I spent the next day cooped up at Janeen's house. We are not allowed to go to sleepovers on school nights, so I grudgingly came home later that night. I could feel Milo’s starved eyes taking me in throughout dinner.

Uncle Reese and Tessa will be staying at the house till the Thanksgiving Holidays. I know Milo wouldn’t try anything if his parents are in the house. Still, I have been sleeping in Mia’s room most nights, as an extra security. Mia is as starved for love as I am. She will never complain about me bunking with her.

At all other times, I try to keep myself as busy as possible. School. Dance classes. Study sessions. I have even been working on my college applications and applications for a remote internship next semester.

The only hitch in my well laid out plan is Reid’s new love interest. He met some college girl at Milo’s party, and they have been spending a lot of time together.

Typically, I am Reid’s wingman and find all of his conquests quite amusing. This time, not so much. I need more defenses against Milo’s out of control libido. There is safety in numbers. Reid could not have found a more inconvenient time to get serious with a girl. I know that’s selfish thinking on my part, but I can't help it.

For example, tonight. We don’t have school tomorrow. Our school is closed from Wednesday through next Monday, for Thanksgiving. Tessa really enjoyed the relaxing spa experiences at the Plaza. Hoping to recreate another good day for his wife, Uncle Reese decided to treat Tessa and Mia to another night at the Plaza. As a result, Mia is indisposed tonight. And I don’t have Reid as my buffer.

I tried to stay over at Janeen’s house, but Milo crushed those plans. Her responsible parents called Milo to ensure I can still stay over tonight. Milo politely declined, stating that I forgot about some pre-existing family plans we had. Lies.

And now, here we are. Alone for the first time since his birthday party. Milo is walking them out, telling them to go have a good time. I watch Milo lock the door, as I brace myself for my doom.

Milo looks at me. I don’t have to guess what that look means. It’s been a few days since we had sex. I know he is getting impatient. Eyeing the staircase, I start marching up, intent on locking myself in my room for the rest of the night.

Milo charges behind me, gripping my shoulder as I reach the top of the stairs. Turning me around, Milo gives me a shake. “Where are you going?”

“I-I…,” I start, as panic forms inside me.

“We have to talk, Rave,” Milo says sharply.

“About what?”

“Are you serious? About us, duh! We have been sleeping together, remember?”

“So?” I challenge.

“So?” He sounds incredulous. “What is wrong with you? W-we have been sleeping t-together,” it’s Milo’s turn to stammer. “I’m your first. You gave up your virginity to me. What does all of this mean to you?”

“Milo, whatever happened between us is done.” I manage to struggle out of his grip, mostly because he lets me go. “I can’t change the past. We can only move forward. This, between us,” I wiggle a finger between us “is over.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Whatever.” I try to skate past him, but Milo blocks me, grabbing my waist. “Let me go,” I try to shake him off.

“Why should I?”

“Because I know what you want. And I refuse to give in.”

“What I want, or what we both want?” Milo deadpans.

“Please stop.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you want me too?”

I roll my eyes and jerk out of his hold. My patience is running thin. “You seem awfully fixated on a short-lived relationship, based on meaningless sex.”

“And you seem awfully quick to forget about it.” Milo glares at me. Then he sighs, as if in defeat. “Look, Rave, if you were dissatisfied about the extent of our relationship, I can do better. We can have whatever kind of relationship that makes you comfortable. Do you want to be my girlfriend? Do you want to tell people about us? Tell me what it's going to take. Just talk to me.”

Milo looks so hurt that my heart squeezes in a way I can’t explain. But I refuse to veer off course. I don't trust him anymore. He walked out on me, ignored me, made me feel left out. Once he came back, all he wanted to do was have sex with me, despite me saying no multiple times.

I didn’t believe him for a second when he said that he loved me. He is full of shit. You don't do those things to someone you love. This is all about his damn ego. He is attracted to me, and I burned him. He doesn't know how to handle rejection.

But his ego is not my problem. Not anymore. I don't want to be his stupid girlfriend. And I don't want anyone knowing about us. I just want to keep my promise to Mia, and I want this nightmare to end.

“Milo,” I say quietly, “I am sorry if you thought what we had together meant more…,” I pause to gauge his reaction. I have to be careful. As angry as I am at Milo, he has been volatile and unpredictable. I have to deal with him diplomatically.

“But, we have to call it as it is. We had a fling based on sex. It was misplaced feelings for both of us. Temporary oblivion. That's all it was. We have to move on.”

Milo smirks, shocking the hell out of me. “Are you convincing yourself or me?”

My anger returns full force. The little bit of diplomacy I had left is gone. “Your ego is bruised right now. That’s why you are acting like this.”

Milo’s expression doesn’t change; angry, determined, resonating with sexual desire. He grabs my elbow, fingers flexing to the point of being painful.

“Stop acting so innocent, Raven,” Milo hisses. “You came on to me just as many times. You reciprocated too.”

This is true. Milo might have started our sexual relationship. But every time my parents rejected me, I sought out Milo. Our physical connection is this crazed magnetic pull that never dies down. But that’s it. Attraction and sexual satisfaction. I took comfort in his arms and in the oblivion he provided.

I am surprised he would throw that back in my face. Milo used to be my hero. When did he turn into the villain in my book? He never tried to make me feel bad before.

“Because I trusted you,” I try to speak evenly. “I went along with it because I didn’t think you would ever steer me wrong. We both made a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You love me, but you’re too scared of what people will think. I can’t do it like you can, Rave. I can’t sacrifice what I want, in fear of what people will think.”

Milo scoops me up.

“Milo, what are you doing? Let me go,” I shriek.

He doesn’t respond. When did he become like this? He manipulated tonight so he can take advantage of me. I knew it.

Milo pushes the door open to my room and drops me on my bed. I immediately try to jump back up. But he lunges at me, effectively pinning me down. I am petrified with shock and panic.

“Milo, get off me,” I try to speak steadily.

His hand moves down my body and slips easily inside my shorts. He starts to finger me.

“I don’t know how else to make this clear to you,” I say as calmly as I can. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Then why are you so wet Raven,” he murmurs in my hair. “Your thong is soaked.”

Fucking hell! He taught me everything I know about sex. I am always aroused when he wants me to be. No wonder he doesn’t stop.

“Because I am a teenager,” I say, refusing to give him an inch. “Everything gets teenagers horny.”

“Stop lying to yourself. And stop fighting this.”

“Milo, I am saying no. You are supposed to respect my wishes. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond. My own protests are soon replaced by shame as he works me. I fall into a climax like never before, the moment he gives me the right friction on the right spot. I grab onto his shoulders as I shudder from my orgasm. Milo doesn’t miss a beat, as he pulls down his basketball shorts and slips inside me.

“Fuck. I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much." Kissing and nipping my lips, he tenderly pets me as he comes inside me.

He slumps on top of me. Kissing my temple, he reminds me of what my body already knows. “You are mine. You will always be mine."

-----------

Milo

I have to stop. I am so ashamed of my behavior, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I have to dig deep and find the strength inside me to stop my behavior.

If a girl says no, you stop. It’s as simple as that. I know that. I have never done anything otherwise.

So why can’t I stop with Raven?

This whole week has been a fight. A battle with myself, a battle with my sick urges to take what’s mine and a battle with Raven.

Before we started a physical relationship, I denied myself what I wanted most in the world. But I could control it because I had no idea what I was missing out on. I didn’t know what it was like to be with her.

Being with her is this potent, mind-boggling, addicting dosage of cocaine. One hit and I was hooked. Food, money, life, success, friends, family; there is nothing I won’t sacrifice. There is nothing I can prioritize in my lust-filled sick mind, that's worth stopping this madness for. Nothing placates me till I am inside her.

No matter how many times I have been with her, I just want more. It’s this sickening addiction, that's getting worse every time I am with her. My body has built up a tolerance. I need more of her to get the same high.

I can’t go on feeling like this. This insanity, this infinite obsession, this lust, it has to end at some point. It has to at least slow down. How can it increase by the day? Isn’t sexual tension supposed to decrease once you have had sex? When will this craze end?

I remind myself that I did stop for a few weeks after we started our physical relationship. Even after I became an insane human being, driven only by lust and my need for that girl, I managed to stop. She told me it was over. I stayed away for a few weeks. If I can do it once, I can do it again.

So I tried. Last night, I stayed with Brandon. But my dark thoughts came back tenfold. Thoughts of her with another man. The thought of her being ripped away from me, for good. All those thoughts tore up my insides. The first time she was without me, she left for Paris and found some douchebag. The second time she was without me, I caught her kissing Asher. Those memories came back like a hurricane, and a gnawing voice inside me yelled, she is mine. I was back home before the night was over.

When Raven broke things off with me, I knew it wasn’t over. I told myself that I was giving her space. She just needed to miss me, to remember how much she appreciates me.  That's why I was able to leave and stay away. I thought I was doing it to fix our relationship.

But this time, it feels different. Though I keep telling her that she wants me, I don’t have that same faith anymore. I can’t get her to admit that she loves me. Every time she says no, it’s like she is ripping my heart out. Every time it’s ripped out, I become a bigger monster.

Even as I keep telling myself that I need to let her go, I know I can’t. She deserves a happy life, away from me. But I am too selfish to let her have that, because it would mean I’d never get to have a happy life. If I don’t push her, that means it’s a life without Raven. I can’t fathom that idea. Despite my shame at my behavior, I can’t even say that I regret what I am doing.

As I said, I am not a good man.

I chant my daily mantra; I can’t do this to Raven. Even as I make my promises to stay away, I know I won't.

We just had a Thanksgiving Party tonight. Raven acted all polite and shit as she does nowadays in front of people. But willfully ignored me at all other times. I wait for everyone to fall asleep, then start towards her room. As I push the door open, I find an empty bed. Which means she is staying with Mia. Again. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been her number one shield against me.

But Raven underestimated my determination tonight. It’s been a couple of days since we have been together. And now I am even bigger of a madman than before. You can’t try to reason with a lunatic. You can only use logic against those who have rational senses left. If she thinks she is going to get away from me, she has another thing coming.

I confidently stroll into Mia’s room, to claim what’s mine. Raven is sleeping on her side, facing the window. She looks freshly showered and comfortably tucked into bed.

I sit on my haunches and study her. She is so beautiful when she sleeps. Raven stirs as I brush the hair back from her face. I brush my thumb on the apple of her cheek, and Raven’s eyes fly open, confused. Careful not to wake Mia, I get straight to the point.

“Come to the hallway with me. Otherwise, I will wake up Mia, and we can talk in front of her,” I whisper in her ears. Raven looks dazed and confused but stays quiet.

She doesn’t argue as she follows me out. She knows if I dared to come into Mia’s room, I am not past waking Mia up at this point. She slowly gets up from the bed, careful not to dip the mattress, so Mia doesn’t feel the sudden shift.

She turns to me as soon as we are in the hallway. “Milo? W-what the hell is going on?”

“Did you think you’d get away from me by staying in Mia’s room?” I say through clenched teeth. Raven just stares at me, still in her sleepy state. “I’d rather fuck you in my bed, but if you are going to be this difficult, I will happily fuck you in this hallway, or your bed, hell even in Mia’s bed. Choose an option.”

Raven’s eyes fly open. She is wide awake now. “Milo, everyone is here tonight. You can’t possibly be doing this right now.”

“I don’t give two shits about who is here. If you care so much, then don’t make this worse than it needs to be. Come back to my room.”

“No, Milo. Not like this. Not when everyone is here at the house.”

Grabbing her by the arms, I shock her by suddenly kissing her. Hard. She pounds my chest as I slip my tongue in. I break the kiss and yank at her hair. “In that case, I will fuck you right here.”

I can barely think clearly. I am in a fog—drowning and suffocating in it. Fuck, I want her. I want her so fucking much. I will happily fuck her in the hallway. I don’t care if we get caught.

Raven looks mortified. “Milo no, are you insane? We are not having sex while your parents are here.”

I am trying so hard to control my anger right now. How can she not want me, the same way I want her? Does she not feel this; this magnetic pull we have towards each other? I’d do anything for her. Yet, she continually rejects me.

“We are. And you get to choose where.” I haul her towards me, giving me her my most determined look.

Raven tries to struggle out of my grasp and realizes that she can’t get out of my hold. Careful to keep her voice low, Raven puts a hand on my chest. “Please, not here. Okay. Okay. You win. Let’s go to your room,” Raven says desperately. Presumably, to get out of this hallway, where we can so easily get caught.

I am quick to take advantage of the situation. “You are not going to be difficult? I don’t want to fight you every step of the way tonight. If you are going to give me a hard time, I swear I’ll bring you back here...”

“I will be good,” Raven concedes.

“And you’ll stay the night? You can go back before anyone wakes up. If you don't wanna wake up early, we can sleep in your room. And I'll wake up early to go back. Either way, we are sleeping together tonight."

Raven doesn’t respond. I can see the defiance in her eyes. She doesn’t want to risk getting caught in the morning. “I am serious about this, Raven. You care so much about what other people think. I don’t. Disappoint me tonight, and you will see how much I don’t care about what other people think. I will fuck you in front of my parents if that’s what it takes to show you. It’s your call.”

Raven blinks like she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. She should know by now. I am not that man she used to know.

“Let's go to your room. I promise I’ll stay. I promise I’ll do whatever you want,” she whispers, probably biting back the curse words she wants to haul at me.

I lift her in my arms before she changes her mind. I carry her to my room, locking the door behind us. I toss her on my bed, pouncing on her immediately.

Raven has been pulling all the strings of my heart. I have had no control. Right now, I am so fucking angry, I need to take back some control. I need her to know that she is mine.

I pull her closer into me, hands fisting into her hair, slamming my lips against hers. She whimpers into my mouth. I push us backward, onto the mattress. Growling under my breath, I cover her body with mine, hands resting on either side of her face.

I straighten, to pull my shirt over my head. My heart is beating like a wild drum in my ears, as I pull her tank top off and her shorts down.

Pulling her panties to the side, I push two fingers inside her. I look her right in the eyes as I lower my face down to her pussy, my tongue seeking out her clit.

“Oh God,” Raven immediately moans, her expression wild, her small body straining under me. She chokes on a scream as I press my tongue into her cunt. I am going to make her come over and over again, till she forgets to ever leave me.

“Oh, God. Oh God,” Raven whimpers, careful to keep her voice low. This won’t do. I want her to scream. I need to hear her scream my fucking name. I don’t care who hears us. I want everyone to know she is mine. My parents, my siblings, all of New York.

I withdraw my fingers and flip her over to her stomach. With my hands firmly gripping the back of her knees, I slide both her thighs forward. Ass in the air. Face on the pillow. My tongue seeks out her sensitive spot again, as two of my fingers slip back inside. Raven is whimpering, biting down on the pillow.

“I wanna hear you scream,” I hiss. “Scream my fucking name. Say that you are mine, say it loud enough for everyone to hear.”

Raven is panting, still trying to stifle her moans. I press onto her clit with my tongue.

“Ah…”

I can feel Raven’s thighs quaking. I take a mental note that she likes this position. This is the fastest I have seen her ready to fall apart. I slowly pump my fingers, with my tongue grazing her clit.

“Please… ” Raven begs and pants. My chest swells with pride. She never begs.

“Say that you are mine if you want to come.”

I start to pump my fingers quicker and lap at her clit faster. As I feel her building, I stop but keep her right on edge. “Say it.”

“Fuck, Milo… I am yours. Oh fuck… Oh God. Please don’t stop.”

She didn’t scream loud enough for it to carry out of this room. But she said my name. She said she was mine.

No one else’s.

My Raven.

I press my tongue back to her clit and pump my fingers again. I let her rock on my tongue to find her release, making the bed springs creak.

“Oh God,” she gasps. The death-grip clutch of her cunt keeps my fingers locked inside.

“You are mine,” I say through clenched teeth. I have only stopped for a millisecond, but Raven looks like she is about to lose her shit. She immediately pushes her pussy back against my tongue.

“Yes, I am yours. Yours. Please, Milo… don’t stop. I am coming. Keep going.”

And I do. And fuck. The moment I give her that friction, she comes on my mouth, moaning incoherently. Raven falls flat on her stomach, completely limp. I work my way up to her, kissing the back of her body as I go. I draw a line up her spine with my tongue.

“You okay?” I murmur when I reach her ear lobe.

“Ah…” She is brain dead from her orgasm and can barely form a word. I give out a low chuckle. My bad mood has seeped out of me, just like that. She screamed my name and said she was mine. She gave me what I needed. But deep down, she knows the same truth that I do.

She is not mine.

I am hers.

I kiss the back of her neck, then suck on it. I nibble and lick her everywhere. My hand is on her ass. I trail my fingers down her crack and slide them inside her again, testing the water. Raven turns her head sideways, trying to figure out what I plan to do next. She is stretched out on her stomach. I am on top of her, on her back. My dick is throbbing on her naked ass.

“Baby, lift your hips up a little.” I raise myself off her with my knees, so Raven can lift her hips off the mattress. One of my hands wrap around her small waist and slide down to her clit. Two of my fingers are inside her from the back, with two fingers rubbing her clit from the front.

“Fuck,” Raven’s head is moving side to side, with the overpowering stimulation. She is still sensitive from her orgasm, and I can feel her building again, holding in a scream.

Raven’s pussy is clamping down already, tightening around my fingers. She is fisting the pillow and moves one hand back to grab my hair.

I tilt my face so I can cover her mouth with mine. She lifts her head more and turns her face sideways. Kissing me back frantically.

Raven starts to come, and I swallow her moans into my mouth. She is whimpering as our tongues twirl, her hips rocking at their own pace, chasing the friction of my fingers. I grip down on her hips, guiding her draining body as I pump my fingers in, rubbing her clit with my other hand.

As Raven steadies her breathing, I lift off of her, realizing I must be crushing her with my weight. Lying back, I grab the back of her arm to flip her and pull her to my chest.

Her eyes land on my tented pants. My hard cock is straining against my sweatpants, reaching out to her. Hazel eyes peek up at me, before flickering back down.

I stroke my dick through my sweatpants. “This is what you do to me.”

Raven lifts off my chest and drops down. Making space for herself between my thighs, she leans down, pulling at my waistband. I lift my hips, so she can pull my sweatpants down.

Raven kisses my abs, my lower abdomen, and grabs my shaft with her small hand. I can already feel a drop of pre-cum fall from my dick. Raven leans forward, mouth open, and flicks the liquid off my dick with her tongue.

“Shit.” I immediately hiss.

She licks the tip of my cock again, finally closing her lips around me. My hips immediately buck forward, pushing further into her mouth.

Fuck me. If this isn’t the best sight, I have ever seen. I am staring at her, awestruck, lust-filled, a man obsessed. Raven wraps her fingers around my shaft. She is sucking and pumping me. I don’t know how long I can hold back. Brushing her hair back, I tug her restlessly, racing off to the finish line.

“Shit baby, I am gonna come.” I pull her mouth off me, by yanking on her hair, right on time as warm semen lands on her hand and my stomach.

“Shit. Shit. Oh, God.”

Looking over my nightstand,  I reach for the box of Kleenex. I clean myself up and pass her the box to clean up her hands. I get her back on my chest, as we lie in a post-coitus cuddle.

I am beyond content. After what seems like forever, I didn't have to fight her every step of the way. She came just as hard as I did. Why doesn't she understand how good we have it?

After some time goes by, I feel her stir. I have a feeling that she is going to try to slip back to her or Mia’s room, despite her promise.

When Raven tries to move, I flip her over, bracing one hand on each side of her head.

“I’m not done with you,” I growl into her ear, nipping at it with my teeth. Maybe I need to slow down and take a breather. Even as I think about it, I know I won’t. This is the first time in so long she is not fighting me. In my sick mind, I know I won't be able to blackmail her again, once my parents leave. I plan to take full advantage of this situation.

I kiss her, then dip down and lick up the side of her neck. I push her legs open, spreading her wide. I look right into her eyes, stopping for a single, heart-pounding second.

“You are so beautiful,” I murmur. I press my fingers down on her clit, but on the opposite side of the area, I stimulated when I went down on her. Her pussy is still wet.

Raven gives nothing away with her expressions. After a little while, she finally throws her head back and finds her low voice. She moans and rasps out, “Oh, God.”

She starts to whimper profusely. Soon enough, Raven gives out another earth-shattering moan as she orgasms. I don’t wait for a second longer, as I slip inside her, thrusting into her till I come.

Afterward, I settle her back on my chest. I grab onto her as hard as I can, not entirely believing that she is going to stay through the night.

CHAPTER 9

December 2nd, 2015

-----------

Raven

I am getting changed into my sleeping clothes when I hear my door fly open and find Milo stepping in. I roll my eyes. I have had a grueling day between school and dance practice. The last thing I want to do is deal with Milo.

He has been on a mission to talk about us. He is manipulating me into sex. And doesn't stop when I tell him to. There is nothing I can do about it. So what the hell is there to talk about?

"We have to talk," Milo says, predictably.

"We don't," I snap back.

"Unfortunately, you are not the only one who gets to decide that. You've been avoiding me."

"And you couldn't take the hint?" I snark back.

Milo looks at me for a long while. "I hate hurting you," he finally mutters.

Really! That's all he got? "Well, thank you for that. Now please leave."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Oh, do I sound annoyed? Just a few days ago you threatened to fuck me in front of your parents. I am sorry. I should be thrilled to speak to you," I say sarcastically.

Milo tries to make eye contact as he speaks. I avoid his gaze and look everywhere but at him. "Rave, I don't want to keep pushing you. But you refuse to talk about us. I am losing it here."

I snort. "Milo, go find someone else. All the girls who came over last weekend were dying to sleep with you. Just choose one and leave me alone. They won't mind your horny episodes. And your bipolar mood swings."

Milo flinches at my words. The pained expression he gives me is tearing up my heart. I shouldn't care. He doesn't get to give me puppy dog eyes, not after how he has been treating me. He promised he would never walk out on me, and then he left me. He broke my heart, just like my parents. And after he came back, all he wanted from me was my body. He didn't even care when I said no or asked him to stop. Fuck him!

The veil of deception has been lifted from my eyes. I don't idolize this man in front of me anymore. And I don't believe anything that comes out of his mouth. All he wants is sex.

Well, he doesn't need me for that.

We had a Thanksgiving party last weekend. A lot of our family friends came over. Asher was conveniently left off the guest list. Half the girls here spent the night making moon eyes at Milo. Those girls are prettier than me. They were more experienced than me - hence better in bed. He can have his pick of the litter.

Milo is fixated on me because I rejected him. This is an ego thing. He doesn't care about me. His recent behavior is proof of that.

"Rave," Milo starts softly. "You have every reason to hate me. I don't know what I can say to make it better. I can't. I have no excuse for my behavior. The only thing I can tell you is, I can't live without you. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I don't know how to make it stop. I feel like the only way it would, is if I rip my fucking heart out."

How does Milo keep dropping the L-bomb so casually? Well he can, because he is lying. He will say anything to get me to spread my legs for him. I don't want to hear this. I don't want to listen to any of this.

"Shut up!" I screech. "Shut up, shut up. Stop lying through your teeth. You don't love me."

"Of course, I do. I have always loved you." Milo states like it's the most normal thing in the world. As if I should have just known.

"In that case, you are doing the most heinous things in the name of love. If you love me so damn much, how can you do what you did?" I jab a finger at his chest.

Milo doesn't respond. He focuses his eyes on me, his face covered in genuine sadness. I can't stop my traitorous heart to soften at that look. No matter how much I say that I hate him, at the end of the day it's still Milo. I could never hate my parents either, no matter how much they broke me. I suffer from bouts of unconditional love. I wish I could get that back in return.

I wish my father could love me without conditions, even if I don't come as a package deal with my mom. I wish my mom could love me, even if I can't fulfill her need for a glamorous lifestyle. I wish Milo could love me, even if I can't give him what he wants, physically.

Milo finally speaks. "You are right. You should tell everyone what I did. I deserve whatever punishment I get."

My heart squeezes so hard, I can't breathe. "I can't do that," I whisper.

"And why not?"

"You know why."

"Because you love me?"

Jesus. I gave him an inch, and he takes a yard. "No, I don't," I say firmly.

"Stop lying, Raven. Why can't you just admit it?"

Maybe some honesty will jolt him out of this insanity. "Milo, you were my first. You taught me everything I know and like about sex. So I might not be able to control my body reacting positively to you, but I can control everything else. You can force my body, maybe you can even manipulate it to respond to you. But you will never have anything else of mine. You will never have my heart."

Milo glares at me. I can already see the caring Milo leaving the vicinity, to be replaced by that lust-crazed sociopath I don't want to be around.

"That's not true. I know you feel the way I do. I can feel you in my bones, in my blood. If you feel otherwise, then here," Milo grabs my hand and places his phone in my hand. "Call your parents. Call my parents. Call Reid. Hell, call the police. I won't stop you. Tell everyone what I did. Tell the police that I had sex with a minor. Tell them I manipulated you. I will take whatever the consequences are for my actions. I am still man enough to own up to that much. Do it, Rave."

I blink. Milo has gone off the deep end. If he goes to jail, it will leave all three of us completely abandoned. I would lie through my teeth, take a bullet, get run over by a bulldozer before I'd ever put Reid or Mia in that position.

"I am not going to do that."

"If you are not going to tell them, then be with me."

"Never."

Milo looks around desperately, looking for an answer.

"Rave, you are so out of touch with your emotions, you don't even understand your own feelings. You love me, but it's like you can't access that part of yourself. Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you doing this to me?" He looks like he is at the end of his rope, which is not good news for me.

I refuse to be here when Milo goes off. I shake my head. He is wrong, but I don't care to prove that. He can have the final word. I am done with this conversation.

I turn around, ready to exit my own room.

Before I can, Milo grabs my elbow, effectively ending my escape plan.

My reflexes kick in. I refuse to let him keep touching me this aggressively. At least, not without a fight. I immediately turn and slap him right across his face.

"Do not fucking touch me." I am proud of myself for finally growing a spine.

Milo doesn't even flinch at my attack. Instead, he reciprocates with an onslaught of his own by grabbing both my arms and pulling me to his chest. "You are such a confused little girl," he yells, as he shakes me. "You don't know what you want. You need me to tell you what you want, like always."

Refusing to back down, I yell back, "Really! Am I confused? You promised my dad you'd take care of me. Instead, you are fucking me. You are supposed to be my guardian." I am hoping the last portion will shame him into snapping out of it.

No such luck.

"It's simple, Rave. We belong together. Stop fighting this." Milo pulls me even closer.

I push back, dropping his phone in the process, on the soft carpet. "Stop it, Milo."

Milo seems out of his mind, deaf to my words. Like he is talking to himself, having a personal monologue. I just happen to be there. "You said you love me. You said it yourself."

"I don't love you. Now get off me." I state firmly.

He grabs my wrists, hard enough to probably leave marks. I bend and twist and try to strangle out of his hold. "Milo, stop," I say it with even more force this time.

He let's go of one of my wrists and grabs onto the buttons on my shirt, yanking it open. The buttons rip and scatter across the floor.

"What are you doing?" I bellow out as I try to strike him with my free hand. He seems utterly oblivious to my attacks, as he grabs onto my shorts. This is a Milo I have never met before. It's almost like he has blacked out, out of his own body. He seems possessed.

I try to push him off again. Instead, I lose my balance and fall backward on my ass. I am on the ground, and Milo is immediately on top of me, holding me down.

"Please, baby, please don't fight me. I love you so fucking much. You are all I ever wanted."

He is kissing my face, as I am trying to push him off. I try to kick him with one leg. Milo grabs my legs, holding me down under him. I am entirely on my back now, stretched out under him on the floor. Grabbing both my wrists, he pins them on each side of my head.

It's painful.

"Ow ow. Milo! You are hurting me," I scream.

He doesn't respond, nor does he slow down as he yanks my shorts down.

"Stop! Please Milo, I am begging you. Don't do this. It's me. It's Raven. How can you hurt me like this?"

"Yes, my Raven," Milo breathes into my ear.

"Yes, yours. Remember? Your Raven. Please don't do this to me." I am grasping at straws. I don't know what will snap him out of this.

There were a couple times when Milo didn't listen to me when I asked him to stop. But never like this. All those times, I was never scared of Milo. This time, I am paralyzed with fear. If there was a time to stop, this would be it.

Milo doesn't seem coherent or conscious. I don't know how to reach him. This is not my Milo, my hero. Can't he see that I am begging him, that I am in pain?

"I can't live without you, baby. You are in my system. It's like you are imprinted on my soul. Just love me back. That's all I want. I will make you so happy, I promise."

"Stop," I shriek. I kick him again but fail to get in a solid strike. He grabs under my right knee and pushes it up, very forcefully. I am screaming, but I know no one is home right now. I have never fought him this much.

"We are always at peace when we are connected together. You know that. I can make you feel that way again. I know you will remember once I am inside you. You always do."

He pushes two fingers inside me as he bites my neck and breasts. I am sobbing and crying, and Milo is kissing my tears, telling me how much he loves me.

Finally, it sinks in. He is going through with this. He knows I genuinely don't want this. But he is doing this anyways. This is the point of no return. And, I— this is not real.

Milo has already yanked down his own sweatpants. One of his large hands has both my wrists locked on top of my head. He is using the other to rub my clit and, of course, finds the spot that makes me wet enough for his entrance. He is unmovable on top of me, so I don't even try to use the rest of my limbs. I can't escape his massive frame. So I do the next best thing.

I turn my head to the side and tell myself that this is not really happening. I have to distance my mind from what's happening to my body. If there was a time for my compartmentalization skills to come in handy, it's at this very moment.

Not even allowing me that tiny spectrum of denial, Milo nudges my face with his hand, effectively forcing me to face him. He starts to kiss me. When I don't open my mouth, Milo bites my bottom lip. I don't care if he splits my lip. I refuse. Milo doesn't clamp down anymore but shoves his tongue inside me anyways. He explores my mouth with finesse and moans.

His fingers find the right spot on my clit, and I struggle against the oncoming orgasm. Trying to ignore his caresses, I try to think of anything else to escape my own mind. Milo hates when I do this. It's his biggest pet peeve when he can't get a reaction out of me.

Good! I hope that pisses him off.

But he is having none of that today. He grabs my chin back and starts kissing me like a maniac. I am distracted enough that I am caught off guard when he slams his cock into me out of nowhere. I slide upwards due to the sheer force he uses to drive into me, but he brings me back to place. As he thrusts into me, I don't move as I try to play dead. This is why the orgasm takes me by surprise, the moment his fingers slip between us and rub the right spot. Despite myself, I come at the same time he does.

As he collapses on top of me, I lay perfectly still under him. I can't believe that just happened. I never thought something like this could ever happen with Milo, of all people.

He turns his face to kiss my cheek. "I love you."

"You are a sick cocksucker."

"Language, Rave," Milo chides. I turn to stare at him with even more disbelief. Is he seriously disciplining me right now, while he is still inside me?

I don't say anything else. I stay where I am, as Milo pulls out and goes to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I feel a warm washcloth cleaning the last of him, off of me. Two large hands pick me up and carry me to the bed.

Milo slips me under the comforter, sliding in beside me, holding me to him. He is asleep in minutes. I try to wiggle out of his hold, but I already know it's of no avail. Milo's grip, even in sleep, has become iron-strong since he figured out that I don't want to sleep in the same bed as him.

My eyes start to close on their own accord, while I plot how I will get out of this situation. A lightbulb goes off in my head about how I will make that happen. I vow this will be the last time he touches me.

CHAPTER 10

March 13th, 2020

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Raven

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. I promised myself that the last time he touched me, would be the last time he touched me.

For years, I have been able to keep that promise. One afternoon is all it took to shatter all that I built.

I am staring at Milo’s locked bedroom door, while Milo is hugging me from the back. He is whispering annoying shit in my ears, things he thinks are sweet or dirty talk. I have completely tuned him out, keeping my focus on how to get out of this situation.

I have already moved out of my place and everyone else is staying isolated and away from others. It’s not like someone will randomly provide me sanctuary.

If I had good enough insurance, I’d just walk around New York City till I caught the coronavirus. I am desperate enough to do that. That might guarantee me a few nights of hospital stay, hence accommodation and food. I might die, but oh well.

Alas, my shitty insurance will cover none of the hospital stay. It would be cheaper to stay at the Ritz Carlton, than at the hospital. Not to mention, the hospitals are currently all overrun.

“Raven, you can’t leave this house. You have to stay here. It’s dangerous out there,” Milo says, as if reading my thoughts. He waves his hand in front of my eyes, blocking my view of the door.

“Shut up.”

“Great comeback. I expected something more original.”

“Go choke on a dick. How is that for originality?”

“Heard it way too many times. It was Reid’s favorite line against me, when he was a teenager.”

“So it’s a classic,” I retort.

I try to get up, but Milo’s arms immediately tightens around me.

“Can you please let go? I’d like to go change and shower, before the entire family gets here.”

“I am not ready to let go yet. I missed this way too much. And they won’t be here for a while, if you want to…”

“Ew. No thank you. You got what you wanted. Now please get off me.”

“Ew? I don’t think that’s what you were saying…”

“Yea yea. You can get me off just by looking at me. Great, you made me orgasm and passed it off as consent. Good for you. I have heard all this shit before. I would like to go shower and get your smell off me.” This time I do manage to rip out from his hold.

Milo quirks an eyebrow at me. His amused expression just makes me want to murder him.

I start to look for my clothes, but I am very aware from my peripheral vision that Milo is eyeing my naked body. He is looking at me like I am his last supper. I quickly wrap one of the bed sheets around me, in a bath towel fashion.

I search for my dress and underwear. I have managed to barely find one of my shoes, when I see Milo getting up from the bed and pulling on his boxers.

Shit.

If I am not out of here, he is going to pounce on me again. I can feel it.

Fuck it. I will just sprint to my room with a bedsheet on. There is no one else here.

Leaving my clothes behind, I purposefully march towards the door with my shoes in hand. I unlock it and swing the door open with force and… immediately wish that I hadn’t.

The walls close in on me, as I try to grip the door with one hand and bunch the bed sheet with the other. This has to be a nightmare. Any second now I will wake up, and realize that I am anywhere but here.

My world is spinning. My life will never be as it was.

Milo comes up behind me, and puts an arm around me, further solidifying the truth of this nightmare. Standing in front of me are my parents, Milo’s parents, Mia and… Reid.

October 17th, 2015

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"Come on, Rave. Do you really not know?"

I just stare at Mia, dumbfounded, as she further shatters my world with the next bit of news that she shares with me. As if there weren't already enough reasons, her next bit of information hammers the nail into the coffin. And why I should have never started anything with Milo, nor can it ever happen again.

“Reid has been in love with you, since the day you guys were born.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Drethi, along with her team members, lost her livelihood at the start of COVID-19. She wanted to utilize the subject matter of COVID-19 to write a book. Part of all book proceeds will go towards the same local community, who inspired this book.

Quarantined is the first book by Drethi Anis and it is part of a three-book series. She is currently writing contemporary dark romances, focused on COVID-19.

The subject matter of this series is dark, like our current lives. But we will all have a happy ending, just like this series!