MILO'S POV
I can't believe I said that to her. Well, I'll take that back. I can believe it because there's been nothing on my mind as frequently as those beestung lips, always matte, always pillow soft looking. There's a lot of stuff I can't have at this phase of my life. Dignity. Privacy. A chance to see my family one more time. It seems I can't accept never feeling the texture of her lips against mine, her airbrush perfect skin on my rougher cheek.
I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. Not, because she looks intrigued. She purses her lips at me while raising one thin eyebrow. She leans forward, putting her weight on her hands, one on each arm of my chair. Her hair is damp, messier than the usual styles she wears it in. Thin wisps have escaped the tight bun she rolled it into, and some
