Presley curled her legs underneath her as she relaxed on the sofa. Her back rested against Milo's chest, who was flicking through Netflix, trying to find something to watch. A loud sigh left the lips of the brunette girl who held her phone to her ear.
"Why are there photos of you and Milo circling the media?"Guenther asked, anger lingering in his words. "I have half a mind to get Charles on the phone right now and give him a piece of my mind." He raged; from the tone in his voice, Presley could almost picture the vein in his forehead popping.
It had been twelve hours since her husband posted intimate pictures of herself and Milo Crusoe onto his Instagram without any context, especially without permission. To say that it had come as a shock was an understatement, and even though he had deleted the post within an hour, it didn't matter; the whole world had now seen videos of herself and Milo in moments that followed the worst night of her life.
"I don't understand how he got them or why he did it?" Her father continued as Milo gently ran his fingers up and down the girls arm. "What is Milo saying about it?" He asked.
Presley looked to Milo, who furrowed his brow, still deciding what to watch. "Let me put you on loudspeaker, dad." She announced and tapped the phone. "Milo, my dad wants to know what you think about the Charles situation."
Milo took a deep breath and pinched his nose. There was a scowl on his lips, and Presley knew that he was taking a moment to pick the right words. The duo had had a long conversation about the pictures the first time they had threatened to be leaked, and when it was Jaspar, they knew exactly what they would do; however, now it was Charles, everything seemed clouded.
The blue-eyed man looked to Presley, who had snuggled into his chest. She felt incredibly protected by him, and that was exactly how he wished for her to feel. "Hi Guenther, honestly, I almost don't know what to think." Milo sighed and shook his head. "It's just out of the blue, but I'm not so bothered about me; I'm just worried about Elvis."
A warmth that she hadn't felt in a while came over Presley. Her dad had always liked Milo; he was one of the only men that she had introduced to him that Guenther had trusted. When Presley told her dad that she intended to spend a week with the British man in Tuscany, the Haas principal had no qualms.
There was a short pause before her father continued talking. He told the two that he wanted them to come to the race in Austin at the weekend so that they could all talk and decide how to move forward with it. By the time the call ended, he had calmed down, but Presley only knew that was because Milo had reassured Guenther that he would look after her.
They both agreed that they would be at the race even if Milo had to drag Presley there. He knew that she was nervous, and given that Lewis had informed him that Charles had invited Jaspar to the US GP, it definitely warranted the nerves.
"I love how you always know what to say," Presley smiled as she rested her head against Milo's shoulder. They remained intertwined, their bodies melting against one another and their breathing synced. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Crusoe." She added.
Milo chuckled and pressed his lips against her forehead. "You're a freaking badass, so you don't need me." He pointed out, "But I'm always going to be here for you."
It was moments like this that made the designer wonder if she had made the wrong choice when it came to her and Milo. It was a mutual choice, but it had always been evident that they both carried feelings for each other. Over time it became platonic, but it only took one moment for them to slip back into old routines.
"Have you spoken to Charles?" Milo asked as he pulled her closer into his embrace. His heart ached for her, and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do. At least before, Milo had been able to knock sense into Jaspar, but there was nothing he could do with Charles. Not only because it was his best friend, but because he was also partly to blame.
Presley shook her head, "Nope, I wouldn't even know what to say?" She glumly replied. "Like, I'm not even angry, I'm just hurt, but I also know I have no reason to be hurt."
Milo hated that she felt the way she did. There was this sinking feeling in his stomach that this was all of his makings; if only he'd had been honest with Charles about his history with his wife, maybe none of this would have happened. It was strange, really, Milo absolutely loved Charles and Presley together, and there were never any envious feelings towards seeing them together. In fact, Milo had been the driving force between them, but then how did he end up being the one comforting her?
"Please don't blame yourself; this has Jaspar written all over it." Milo cooed as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "I don't even know how he got those pictures or that video?" He said, chewing on his lip.
Presley held onto Milo's wrist and looked at the man who had been her knight in shining armour on so many occasions. The candle burning in the window flickered in his blue eyes, and his whiskey laced breath prickled her cheeks.
Milo ran his tongue along his lower lip, "Everything is going to be ok", He promised as his eyes drew to Presley's pink glossy lips. He watched as a tear fell from her eye and landed on his navy sweater. "Hey, hey, don't cry." He cooed and pulled her onto his lap.
Presley looped her arms around his neck as her legs straddled over Milo. Their scents infused the New York apartment, their hearts now simultaneously beating. She rested her head in the crook of his neck as his hands ran up and down her back. As her jumper slowly lifted, he rested his hands on the small of her back, her skin was warm to touch, but a shiver still ran through the brunette's body. The spark was still there.
"It's tough, I know, but I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you." Milo agonised as Presley turned her head. Gently she pressed her lips against his jawline; it came unexpected to the man but was welcomed. "I'm sure once Charles has heard the whole story, he will understand."
That was the thing; Presley wasn't sure she wanted him to know the whole story. It wouldn't change anything that had happened and would only stir up feelings and emotions that she had buried. And with Jaspar now infiltrating not only Charles' head but also Juno's, perhaps the best idea was to just let them get on with it.
Milo tightened his grip on the girl in his arms. He didn't want to let her go, and she didn't want him to either. Presley felt at peace, wrapped in the comforting cocoon of his grip. His sandalwood and oceanic cologne tickled her nose as she drew one hand to his chest. Her fingers pulled on his sweater before moving to hold onto his cheek.
She rubbed her thumb against his cheekbone; a gasp left her throat as she ran along a faded scar indented on his left cheek. "I'm sorry about that night; I never meant for you to get hurt." Presley blubbered.
He looked at her with painful eyes, "You need to stop apologising for that; I regret nothing." Milo told her, "I would do it all over again if it meant that you were safe." He said and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Now, do you want to go out for food, or should we order in?"
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