“Yeah,” Milo said, leaning over the table and flashing a grin that would have stopped her heart if either of them was even remotely emotionally available. “I mean, I kind of own it.”
Her eyes widened as she tried to do the mismatched career math in her head. As far as she knew, Milo worked for some tech company.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you in sales?”
He leaned back, stretching an arm over the booth. “By day. But this was Dad’s bar. It stayed in the family. That’s my brother, Frankie.” He pointed at the bartender, who waved briefly. Hanna gave him a good look and, had she done so sooner, she wouldn't have been so caught off guard. They had the same green eyes, the same sharp jaws. Frankie was a few years older and a few inches shorter, but they had the same warmth to them. “We all own it. Frankie runs it most of the time. Our older brother, Nikolas, is in LA with the wife and kids, so he’s just an owner on paper. Mom lives in the apartment upstairs.”
Her brows tucked together. “You marched me into your family bar without any warning?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Why not?”
She thought about that for a second. Milo didn’t owe her a damn thing, certainly not any explanations. They were barely friends, let alone something that warranted warnings. She glanced around the bar, family photos warming the walls above outdated furniture they’d never give up. Regulars poured in as the work day drew to a close.
She sipped her second whiskey.
“Tell me more about your mom,” she said.
She was halfway across the hall, leaving Milo at his own door, as she tried to beat Sara and Matty home so she could hide out again.
“Wait,” he said.
She spun, apprehensively moving back toward him.
“You never told me how you ended up with Chloe earlier.”
Her face flushed. It seemed so silly now. “It’s kind of embarrassing and makes me sound a little crazy.”
“Safe space,” he said, the words bouncing off the hallway. Something about the earnestness in his eyes did her in.
“Okay. I think I told you my mom had a thing about sunflowers, yeah? I was having breakfast this morning and trying to figure out how to spend this stupid day, and I saw this flower shop—oh, shit. I forgot to go back and pick up my sunflowers.” She chewed at the edge of her thumb. “Anyway, I started following sunflowers I saw around the city—or sunflower adjacent. And I ended up at The Roxie.”
“The Sunflower has good food, we should try it sometime,” he said.
“Noted,” she said.
“That’s not crazy, Hanna. I think it’s nice.” He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame.
“Day certainly could have been worse,” she murmured.
“Wait! You forgot about me!” He pulled his shirt out, the crumbling silk screen graphics hardly counting. “You want to know something crazy?”
“Crazier than following sunflowers all over the city?”
“This was my dad’s shirt,” Milo said. “I found it in a box when I moved in here. I don’t even listen to Stone Temple Pilots.”
Hanna tilted her head, fighting the blush threatening to take over her entire face.
“Maybe your mom sent me to be your guardian angel.”
“Alternatively, maybe you’re a demon from hell.”
Milo bounced his eyebrows, leaning in closer. “Yeah, yeah, you seemed so miserable hanging out with me today.” He turned and pushed his door in halfway.
“Thanks,” she said, drawing him back out.
“I told you I make a great distraction, Arizona. But make sure you don’t stay distracted. Feeling like shit is a key part of the process.”
Hanna saluted him as she backed away and shoved her shoulder into the front door of Sara and Matty's apartment.
