Kira’s steps slowed. “Landon…”
“I thought we could use a night off.” I set the takeout bags down and flipped open the containers. “Two Pad Thais, mangosticky rice, and that Thai iced tea you’re always trying to get me to drink.”
She laughed and crouched down beside me. “You remembered?”
“I’d never forget all of your weird cravings,” I teased.
We sat together as the sun warmed our skin. Kira pulled her knees up under her, twisted her noodles with chopsticks, and stole bites of my spring rolls without asking.
I watched her more than I should’ve—the way her lashes caught the light, the curve of her cheek when she smiled, how her hand lingered on the rim of her cup as if lost in thought.
“Here,” she said suddenly, holding out her chopsticks. “Try mine.”
I took the bite and immediately regretted my life choices. Everything burned, collapsing into what felt like a fire in my belly.
“Oh my God.” I coughed, grabbing my drink. “Why is itangry?”
Kira burst into laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth. “You baby. It’s not even that spicy.”
I attempted to pat my tongue dry with the napkin. “So you say.”
She laughed again, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, and I couldn’t help but grin, even as my tongue still burned.
“Where are we, by the way?” Kira asked, finally catching her breath after the spice-induced laughter.
“My apartment complex,” I said, stretching my legs out in front of me and leaning back on my hands.
Kira glanced around, scanning the rooftop edge and the dusky skyline beyond. “Huh.” She nodded with subtle approval. “You’ve got a nice view. This is peaceful.”
I smiled but didn’t say anything.
She tilted her head, casting a side-glance at me. “Do you like living alone?”
I paused.
Not because I didn’t know the answer. I did. But because the truth sat thick in my throat, and I wasn’t sure how much honesty I should let slip out. I closed my takeout container and set it gently on the blanket beside me.
“I do,” I said finally, my voice lower now, stripped of humor. “It’s quiet. I can think. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.”
She didn’t speak right away, just turned slightly toward me, her elbow resting loosely on her knee.
“But it’s weird sometimes,” I added. “I used to think…”
Her chin lifted slightly, catching the strong sunlight. “Used to think what?”
“That by now, we’d be living together.” I didn’t look at her right away, but I felt the shift in her. The way her posture straightened just a bit. “In a one-bedroom apartment downtown. You, a famous artist. Me, the lucky guy who brings you tea when you’re working late and hangs your prints on every wall.”
There was silence.
I glanced at her in time to see her carefully set her food down, then shift to fully face me. Her gaze was calm but cautious.
“Landon…”
“I know,” I said quickly, holding my palms up like I could ward off the tension. “I’m not trying to back you into anything. I simply wanted to be honest. I don’t have expectations. I just…sometimes I think about what could’ve been.”
Kira bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes flickering between mine. “Your honesty is appreciated. It always has been.”
She paused like she was deciding whether or not to jump into deep water.
