How to Wish Upon a Star (Howl at the Moon Book 3) by Eli Easton

Author:Eli Easton [Easton, Eli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinkerton Road LLC
Published: 2016-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Jason followed Milo into the living room, his temper rising. "Milo, what is the matter with you? You're acting like a child! I have to work on this virus!"

Milo spun to face Jason. His body was tight with anger. His hazel eyes had darkened with emotion to a flashing, volatile chocolate. "You. You, you, you!" He was so angry, he couldn't even talk. His voice sounded choked. His fists were clenched and shook at his sides.

Jason blinked, taken aback. Holy shit. Milo was really upset. Jason ran back over the day in his mind, trying to ascertain what had caused such strong emotion. Ah.

"You're angry with me because I wouldn't let you comfort Lance," Jason suggested. He was surprised Milo would get this upset about it, but he was coming to understand that Milo had a strong need to comfort those in pain. Pathological even? Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that his salvation from the shelter, and what was certain death, was due to his being recruited into the hospice. He probably thought that his only possible worth was in the act of—

"Jason, for a smart man, you are very stupid sometimes!" Milo was glaring at him with the angriest duh expression ever.

"What? That's not why you're mad? Then why are you—"

"You tell me it is dangerous! You say I can catch sick at the clinic. 'Stay with Doris, Milo.'“ He mimicked Jason’s voice. “Then you go behind the door. You tell me I can catch sick from Lance. 'Stay with Tim, Milo.' Then you go in the cabin and see Lance." Milo's eyes grew bright with tears, his face a blotchy red. He stamped his foot on the floor. "Now you get sick too! No!"

Oh. Oh hell. An intense emotion bubbled up from Jason's belly that was wonder and surprise, guilt and a speedball of joy that Milo cared about him this much.

"You're worried about me," he said quietly.

Milo rubbed his eyes impatiently and gave another half-heartedly little stomp. "You die too! It hurts."

"Oh, no, Milo, no." There was nothing that could have stopped Jason from striding to Milo and gathering him into his arms. His heart felt cracked open like a coconut cleaved by an ax, and all sorts of uncomfortable juices were in danger of leaking out.

Milo clung to Jason, his hands grabbing on to Jason's shirt, angry and desperate.

"No, no. I took precautions, Milo. You needn't worry."

"What?"

"Precautions. You saw all the things I put on? The gloves and the mask and all of that? The sickness is tiny, and it spreads through the air. I put those things on so I didn't catch the germs."

Milo's face turned into Jason's neck. The damp on his cheeks felt electric against Jason’s skin. "You won't get sick?" His words were muttered against Jason's carotid artery.

"No. Well, probably not. There's actually a well-established protocol, but I wasn’t able to—"

Milo whimpered. Okay. Maybe he didn't need full disclosure. Jason shut his mouth and pulled Milo closer, so close the heat of Milo's body baked through his clothes.

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