He won't share himself with me but he's here, in my apartment, taking care of me, singing songs about me.

How the hell am I supposed to make sense of that?

I tug at the zipper of my hoodie and shrug it off my shoulders. "You want something to drink?"

"Whatever you're having."

"Do you drink?"

"Drink what?" He sets my bag on the counter.

"Alcohol."

"There's never been any alcohol in your fridge."

"There was none at your place in Malibu?"

His brow furrows. "You checked?"

"No, but am I wrong?"

"You're right. There's no alcohol there."

I look at the available beverages. It's green tea, water, or grapefruit juice. I pour two glasses of juice and hand one to Miles.

"Thanks." He takes a sip and sets the glass on the counter. It's a delicate movement. Careful.

"Do you drink?" I ask.

"No," he says. "You don't either."

"Why not?"

"I don't like the person it makes me." He moves into the kitchen. His eyes find mine. "I want to help you, Meg. I know what it's like to lose someone."

"I don't want to talk." I hold strong. This time, I'm the one who wants sex and he's the one who wants conversation. But it's not like he's offering to tear his heart out for me. It's still him withholding what I want. "I want to fuck you."

"I'm not your shiny distraction."

"You won't be my distraction. You won't share your secrets. What will you do?"

"Listen to you."

"Listen to me pour my heart out while you stay closed off?"

He says nothing. There's all this vulnerability in his eyes, but still, he says nothing.

I down my juice in one long gulp and place my cup in the sink. "I'm going to shower first."

"What makes you sure there will be a second?"

"If you're going to leave, lock the door behind you. Okay?"

I keep my eyes on his as I slip out of my shirt and pants. Miles watches with rapt attention. But he stays put. Even as I slide my bra off my shoulders and push my panties to my knees.

He grunts with approval but he doesn’t move.

It's been a long week. The warm water soothes my tense muscles. But the heat isn't enough release. I need his body against mine. I need him in here with me.

I take my time with soap, shampoo, and conditioner. The shower is safe and warm. I'm alone. No one can see me crumble.

Cold air surrounds me as I step out of my safety bubble. I walk into the main room. Miles is still standing there, but now he has a towel in his hands. He keeps his eyes on mine as he wraps the towel around me and cinches it tightly.

Why did he have to withhold that secret? I want to keep things fun. I want to feel the way I did when I got to the show—like I was in for a hell of a night.

Like the world was beautiful.

This is supposed to be a pleasant distraction.

But it's not. He sees through me. He sees everything I hide from everyone else.

His voice is low. "You've turned my cock against me."

"Have I?"

He nods. "It's agony doing anything besides tearing that towel off your body."

I drop the towel. His tongue slides over his lips. His fingers dig into his jeans.

Still, he stays put.

"You're killing me here," he groans.

I take a seat on my bed. "You're killing yourself."

"I'm not doing this. Not with you so miserable."

"Then don't. But you're the one turning your cock against you. He and I have the same idea for how this should go."

He nods and slides onto the bed next to me. He takes his time pulling off his t-shirt, kicking off his shoes. Then it's his socks. His jeans.

There's a casual intimacy to it, like he's undressing before bed, like we're old lovers.

I lay on my side. He lies behind me, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck. His breath sends shivers down my spine.

I bite my tongue to keep from begging.

"Lay with me." He runs his fingertips over my shoulders.

I melt into his touch. Whatever he wants, I want him doing it to me.

His chest is pressed against my back, his crotch against my ass. "My uncle. He had cancer. In his pancreas. I didn't take it well. I ran off. Got into fights. Drank too much. Fucked a bunch of women without exchanging first names." He pulls the comforter over us. "I spun out of control. Worse than I ever had before."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I fucked up, and I wasn't there for him. The guy was dying and I was stewing in self-pity over it. Same problems I'd refused to deal with for years."

He pulls me closer, his palm flat against my stomach. His heartbeat pounds against my back, his breath warms my neck.

There's something missing from his words. Something he isn't saying.

He presses his lips against my cheek. "I know it hurts. I know you miss her. I know it feels like it will never stop hurting. But you need to realize it's not your fault."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause I know." His voice waivers. "Trust me."

"How? Tell me how. I want to trust you, Miles. I really do. Tell me what it is you're hiding and I will."

"I can't."

His lips brush my neck. He drags his fingertips over my hips like he's doodling lyrics on a piece of paper.

My racing heart slows. One by one, my muscles relax. I'm a puddle again, melting into him.

The world disappears. It's nothing but us in this bed, our bodies perfectly tangled.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" His voice is soft and sweet. It's like he cares, like he's the sensitive Miles who sings all those songs.

I shake my head.

"You might as well," he says. "Since you're not going to get laid."

I let out a growl.

He laughs. "You'll feel better."

"I'll feel better with your cock inside me."

He groans.

Maybe I can convince him. "That's how I need your help. I don't care how you do it, but I need to stop thinking."

"You need to get this off your chest."

My chest does feel heavy. Maybe he's right. "If I do and I still feel like shit, will you admit I'm right?"

"Yeah. But I'm still not gonna be your shiny distraction." His voice wavers like he's considering being my shiny distraction.

I take a deep breath. I can convince him. "There was this patient today. She was young, a teenager. Her mom was with her, screaming, but completely clueless. She had no idea her daughter was a drug addict. There were track marks all over the girl's arms and legs, but Mom had no idea."

"I'm sorry."

"Rosie was the most important person in my life. She was my best friend, and we never lied to each other. That's what our parents did to us. They would lie right to our faces. When my cousin ran off and joined the army, they pretended it wasn't because of a fight with his parents. When my mom lost her job at the hospital, they told me she decided to quit. She was miserable every day she was unemployed, but she said it was fine. Every time anything went wrong, they pretended like it was nothing, like everything was fine. Rosie was older. She'd dealt with it longer, and she saw through it before I did. So she made me swear that we'd never bullshit each other like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And it worked. We got into so many fights over our honesty, but we always made up. When she graduated, everything started going wrong. She said she wanted to take a gap year. It was a lie. An obvious lie I should've called her on. She bombed her MCAT. She spent the next six months studying, but she still bombed it the second time. The third time. She stopped talking about retaking the test. It was like she gave up on being a doctor. It was the first time she failed at anything, and she was miserable about it. Miserable with this big, happy, everything is okay expression. I'm sure she thought she was helping me—my life has been class, work, and studying for the MCAT since sophomore year—but it didn't help. It was just the first lie to drive us apart."

"It's not your fault, Meg. That's what drugs do to people. They get them wrapped up in all this bullshit. Drug addicts are great liars. There's nothing you could have done."

"But that's the thing. It wasn't drugs at first. It was a test. Then it was her future. She gave up."

Miles takes a sharp breath.

"It broke my heart when she died."

"I know." He runs his fingertips over my arm. "I'm sorry."

I swallow hard. "That's why I can't do this with you. Not if you're going to hide something from me."

His breath is low, desperate. "If you knew the whole story, you'd kick me out again."

"That's not true. Do you really trust me that little?"

"No. I trust you more than I trust anyone."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"I can't talk about it yet." He drags his fingertips over my shoulders. "I've never been disappointed over a relationship ending before."

"This is a relationship?"

"Us, being friends with benefits. I won't tell you my secret. I'm breaking the terms." He pulls me closer. "It's up to you. I don't want to leave. Don't want to stop."

"I don't want to stop. I want to be able to trust you."

"But if you can't have that?"

"I want to stop thinking." I lean into his touch. "I want to feel good."

"As far as I'm concerned, we're still together. Still monogamous."

"It's been weeks."

"Only want you." He slides his hand to my hip. "You still want to go bareback?"

I nod and turn to face him. There's all this pain in his clear blue eyes. Is this really the end? I don't want it to be over.

He drags his fingertips over my chest.

There must be a way I can keep him mine for a while longer.

"Talk to me, Meg." He teases my nipple with his thumb. "I've been going crazy thinking about you."

"You think about me?"

"All the time." He presses his lips to my neck. "I miss the way you taste."

"You've been thinking about fucking me."

He shakes his head. "About you. I miss your moans. I miss your laugh. I miss the way your body fits into mine."

It's like he can give me anything but himself. But I can live with that. If I get this I can live with that.

I look back into his eyes. "This is on my terms, Miles. It's just sex. You do what I want. You come when I call."

His lips curl into a smile. "I like the sound of that."

I laugh despite myself. "I mean come over."

His fingers trace the outline of my smile. "I love your laugh."

"No. You don't say things like that. This is sex. That's it. You don't get to say you miss me, that you love me laugh, that you want to tape my heart back together. Not if you're going to keep everything to yourself."

He nods and grabs my hips. He turns me over, so I'm flat on my back. Then he's straddling me, his crotch grinding against mine.

I missed him too.

I dig my hands into his hair and bring my lips to his. The kiss is hot, electric.

This is exactly what I need. Right now, he's giving me exactly what I need.

Miles runs his fingers over my nipples. I moan into his mouth, bucking my hips, scraping my nails against his skin.

"You feel so good," he groans.

He sucks hard on my nipples, first one, then the other.

My body screams with want. This is all we have, but this is perfect.

He kisses his way down my stomach. Over my inner thigh. "I've been dreaming about this."

He moves closer. Almost.

Palms flat against the inside of my knees, he pushes my legs onto the bed so I'm splayed open for him. His plaything again, but God, do I love the way he plays.

He runs his tongue over my sex. Pleasure screams through me as my body remembers how good this feels, how much it misses him.

He sucks on my outer lips. Then it's the gentle scrape of his teeth. He works his way to my clit, his fingers trailing over my inner thighs.

"Miles," I groan. I dig my hands into his hair.

His tongue slides over my clit.

Anything teasing or gentle is gone. His mouth is on me, and he's licking me in every place that craves his tongue. My body reacts quickly. The knot inside me is intense, and he's the only thing that can undo it.

He's the only thing that can make me feel good.

He licks me, dragging his fingertips over my thighs. I groan. All the ugly parts of the day fade away. Right now, I feel good. Right now, there's pleasure in the world.

Hell, the world is fucking beautiful.

His tongue, his mouth, his lips—they're perfect. He explores my sex until I'm shaking then he focuses right on that spot.

His mouth is soft, warm, so perfectly wet. That knot of pleasure inside me grows and grows, until it's so tight, so intense I scream.

The neighbors will pound on the walls. I don't care. I scream until I'm sure I'm breaking glass.

He licks me again, and it sends me over the edge. That knot unravels and pleasure washes through my body. My muscles relax, my legs flopping against the bed.

He drags his lips over my stomach, stopping at my breasts to draw circles around my nipples. "You're sexier than I remembered." He sucks on my nipple until I squeak.

He bites my nipple. Lust shoots through me again, washing away whatever thought was forming in my brain. Conversation… we have no use for that. The only appropriate sound is a throaty groan.

He moves to my other nipple and sucks gently. I moan, rocking my hips against him, scraping my nails against his back.

"I missed you," he says.

"You missed this."

"No." He flicks his tongue against my nipple. "I missed you." His hands plant around my shoulders, and he meets my gaze. "Do you believe me?"

He's staring at me, staring through me. But there's something in his gorgeous eyes—I do believe him.

"Fuck me," I breathe.

"Fuck, yes."

Miles cups my ass, bringing my body towards his. And there it is. The tip of his cock strains against my sex.

No condom. There's nothing between us. Nothing but our bodies joining.

He sighs as he enters me. Any hint of tension or doubt flees my body. This is exactly where I need to be. Hell, this is everything I need.

I arch my back and bring my legs to his chest, my ankles over his shoulders. It's tighter and deeper than it was before.

Miles kisses me. It's still needy, still desperate. He moans against my lips, his tongue swirling around mine, exploring every inch of my mouth.

He tastes like me.

He thrusts into me. I bring my hands back to his hair, holding him close.

Miles makes a move to pull his mouth off me, to groan or sigh or maybe scream my name, but I hold him close.

Right now, he's mine.

Right now, the world is beautiful.

I arch my back and rock my hips, pushing him deeper. He follows my lead. Faster. Harder. Deeper. So he's mine, and I'm his, and he's so deep inside me I might scream.

But I don't. I groan into his mouth, and I tug at his hair, and I kiss him like I'll never get another chance to kiss him again.

That knot returns. He feels so good inside me, and the more he shakes, the more he moans, the more his fingers dig into my skin…

The pressure inside me builds. It's so tight, so intense.

Miles pulls his mouth off mine. He groans into my neck, sending vibrations across my shoulders and back.

His eyes find mine. It's like I can see inside him, see all those things that make him hurt. It's too much. I press my eyes closed and kiss him.

He thrusts into me again, and again, moaning into my mouth, tugging at my hair. Everything inside me winds up until it's so, so tight. And then he's shaking, and he's screaming, and he's sinking his teeth into my skin.

Everything inside me releases in a wave of ecstasy. I hold him tightly, riding it as long as I can. He's there, too. His cock pulses inside me as he rocks me through another orgasm.

He groans.

His teeth sink into my neck, one last time, and he comes, filling me.

Miles collapses next to me. He pulls me close, holding me the way he did last night.

"Better than I remembered," he groans.

"You have a terrible memory."

"Or it's like that song—I love fucking you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow."

I murmur something that's supposed to sound like shut up but it comes out more hell yes, please test this hypothesis with me tomorrow.

* * *

I wake up alone. The bed is empty. The apartment is empty. He's not here.

There's no note, no text, no contact from him at all.

Is he honoring my request to keep things strictly sexual or is he running off before I can start picking the lock that guards his heart?

I'm not sure. But the ache in my gut convinces me of one thing—I want him here.

I'm going to have him here.

I'm going to make it impossible for him to resist me.