“He hurt you.” Growling, Milo totally looked ready to do battle on my behalf.

“Not that way, not really.” Actually, the physical discomfort had been not insignificant, but I didn’t need Milo any more indignant. Also, the lack of prep and advance conversations paled in comparison to my embarrassment later. “Oh well. Live and learn.”

“Yeah, but sometimes learning a lesson sucks, and it’s okay to be mad, especially at jerks.”

I had a feeling we weren’t still talking about my bad sexual experiences. And sure, I’d been mad at Milo back then. Furious, really. But I also didn’t like what being angry turned me into. And I’d also found that more and more what I truly needed was Milo to forgive himself. “I don’t really do mad. Moving on is more productive anyway.”

“You’re almost too mature for your own good.” He shook his head and I laughed because mature and me were not often used in the same sentence. “Get mad at that dude. Heck, I’m mad on your behalf. Your first time should have been way better.”

“Not everything can be fairy-tale perfect.”

“Mine was.” Milo leaned in for a soft kiss that melted all my muscles. “Everything about tonight. That’s why I’m not sleepy. I don’t want it to end.”

“I’m glad. I wanted that for you.” If anything, having a less-than-great first time had made me super determined to make it good for Milo, and knowing I’d succeeded made my whole body warm in a way that had little to do with arousal.

“I want that for you too. I want you to have…everything.”

His tender look was almost too much for me, and I gave a shaky laugh. “I’d settle for a peek at your drawing.”

“Okay.” He nodded like he knew that I’d reached my breaking point for heavy, emotional talk before passing over his sketchbook. “It’s not done…”

Mr. Humble as always had undersold his talent. It wasn’t simply me on a bed like I’d expected. No, he’d given me some sort of Victorian fainting couch, something that the frog magician would approve of, and the pieces of my costume were strewn about me.

“Oh, Milo. This is…incredible. Sexy. Perfect.” It was. He’d captured my likeness down to the freckles on my shoulders. My very bare likeness. My cheeks heated even as my heart tried to clamber its way out of my chest. “Like, I’m never letting anyone else see it, but I love it.”