Just Another Liar

Chapter 2: Milo

His head was heavy on my abdomen as he laid lifeless on top of me. He slept like the dead, not moving anything other than the positioning of his head.

His warm breath tickled my bare skin, making it hard for me not to move. The clock on his nightstand read nine. I had been up for two hours already, usually I started my day with a run. It was strange to lie in bed for hours. I felt unproductive and a waste of time.

I took in a large amount of air and felt saliva roll down my throat and coughed at the uncomfortable feeling. Aurelio lifted his head up with no obvious signs of being groggy. His brown eyes were on mine, and he looked at me with a hint of confusion.

He probably doesn't even remember bringing me home last night.

His head tilted to the side and the crease of his forehead showing that he was piecing together the night before.

"Milo, right?" Without slurring, his voice was clear. I could hear the hint of his accent; a Honduran accent.

"That's me," I said. I rarely spoke to anyone before brushing my teeth, but I didn't have much of a choice. His arms were around my waist, and his chin pressed into my stomach. Giving him a smile, I noted the faded scar on the left side of his head.

"Damn, I was out of it last night. Thanks for getting me here safely, I just wish I could've had some fun with you before I passed out." He smirked at me and tightened his hold on me.

"It's all right. I should probably get going. I'm here to review a hotel I didn't actually sleep in," I said. I tried to lean up, but he was too heavy to push off. If I was in my normal frame of mind, I would have punched him in the nose. Allowing him keep me down for the moment, I kept the thought of driving my fist into his face at the back of my mind.

"I thought you said you were just passing through," he asked. His tone was calm, but the look in his eyes were critical. He was looking to poke holes in my story.

"I'm working as a freelance hotel reviewer for a small paper in San Antonio. I'm part of a team moving through medium towns in Texas. I'm only here for the night, unless I find another worthy hotel to review." I closed the gaps in my story but left a few threads for him to pick at. There was a fine line between sparking curiosity and showing your lie.

"What paper? Maybe I've heard of it?" He loosened his grip around me. I sat up, using my elbows as support. I could still smell the soap on his skin, now mixed with his natural musk. If he wasn't who he was, I would have nuzzled myself into the scent. I looked down at him seeing his towel had come undone allowing me to see his muscle backside slightly darkened with black hair.

"The San Antonio Millennial," I said. He laughed at the name. "It is not funny, the owners workshopped that name for all of ten minutes." He picked up on my sarcasm and laughed harder than he had before.

"You want some breakfast? You drove me here so the least I can do is make you some food." He stood, his question more of a statement. Without shame, he showed off his hairy bottom half and walked into his bathroom. I stopped myself from staring long enough to put my shirt on that he had discarded to the floor

I could not wait to get out of the thick fabric. It was hot, and I felt ridiculous as I probably looked wearing flannel. One would think an Alaskan like myself would have an intimate relationship with the article of clothing, but I had never owned one. My mother hated patterns, so most of my clothing was plain and that taste had flown into my adulthood.

Aurelio, after a few minutes, walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants and had not put on a shirt to keep his well-defined chest on display. He held the cup of a mouthwash bottle out towards me which I took, swishing it around my mouth before walking into his bathroom.