“He’s Izzy’s brother,” I say, and I don’t know if I’m trying to remind her, myself, or both.
“So what? Izzy loves you, and she wants you to be happy, even if it is with her brother. Maybe even especially.” She winks.
I force a smile. I know Izzy loves me, but there’s no telling how she’d react to Noah and me being together, especially given her past comments on the subject. I mean, sure, she was pushing us to be dates for her wedding, but that’s completely different from usactuallybeing together.
If we evenaretogether. I have no idea.
Nonna hugs me next, and I inhale the familiar scent of sourdough. “These other old birds might not be smart enough to catch on, but I’ve been around a long, long time, Odette. I know when two people have seen each other naked.”
I pull back with wide eyes, and she laughs.
“Don’t worry.” She taps the end of my nose. “Your secret is safe with me, little one.”
I have no doubt that my cheeks are as red as they feel.
This is so not how I envisioned this breakfast going.
We wave goodbye to everyone else, and Noah follows me from the diner.
We both breathe a sigh of relief once we’re free from all the scrutiny.
“Here you go,” he says, holding a to-go cup out to me.
I didn’t even notice he’d grabbed two.
“For me? Thank you.”
“It’s no big deal.” He shrugs, sipping on his drink. “Want to take a walk?”
He ... wants to hang out? I don’t know why that surprised me, but it does.
“Sure,” I agree. “Let’s walk.”
We keep a respectable distance between us as we walk to the town park.
There are kids scattered all over the place, parents watching them all intently. Walkers and joggers every hundred feet or so, and even a few cyclists are taking up the lanes.
I don’t miss how Noah picks the least populated one, leading us toward the back of the park that butts up to the woods.
I don’t mind, though. This has always been my favorite section. I like to think of a beautiful garden back here as a hidden treasure.
Once we’re far enough away from prying eyes and ears and all the commotion, we settle onto a bench.
I sip on my coffee as Noah opens his to-go bag.
“Can cats have pancakes?”
I laugh when I see that Pork has popped his head out of Noah’s jacket pocket again. “I’m pretty sure that’s a no. Here, let me take him.”
I reach into the pocket, and the kitten comes to me easily. Pork settles on my lap, flicking his tail back and forth as he takes in the outside world while Noah works on eating his breakfast.
Kids scream with delight in the distance, rounds of laughter echo off the trees, and birds chirp nearby.
It’s a beautiful morning, and it would be even prettier if I knew what the hell it is we’re doing.
“Is this weird?” I ask after several quiet moments, because I can’t stand the silence any longer.
He tips his head left, then right, like he’s weighing his answer before saying it out loud.
