“You’re good at that,” I said between mouthfuls of crispy-fried potato, glistening with oil and encrusted with salt. The perfect thing to recover from either a hangover, or an encounter with Muriel.
“I’m in sales.” Milo shrugged. “Well, I mean, I do more than that, but I’m ultimately a salesman,” he said. “You learn to deal.”
“Thought you worked for your dad? Dawn said, anyway.”
“Yeah,” Milo said. “Mom and Dad got one kid each in the divorce, I guess.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry.” Milo glanced down at his beer, another one of those shy smiles turning up the corners of his lips.
I liked the shy smiles a lot better than the one he’d offered Muriel.
“Don’t be,” I said. “Whatdoyou do, anyway? You’ve never said.”
“All the client meetings and late nights didn’t give me away?” Milo asked, looking up at me again and licking salt off his lips.
One part of me wished I’d never see his tongue again, the rest of me…
Well, the rest of me wanted to see a whole lot more of it.
“The family owns the biggest shellfish supplier in the Pacific Northwest,” Milo said, grabbing another fry and dipping it inwaytoo much apple cider mayo.
“Wow,” I said. “That must be great for you, you love food.”
“I’m allergic to shellfish,” Milo said. “I didn’t realize that was where the constant headaches were coming from until now.”
I wanted to say something smart and insightful instead of staring slack-jawed at him, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’tplease don’t go back.
Milo slept at the office half the time. That was bad enough when it was just a regular office, but when it was constantly full of allergens?
“It’s fine,” he said, looking away. “Hasn’t killed me yet, even if I sometimes have to eat it in front of a client. It’d look bad if I didn’t, y’know?”
“You could die,” I said before I could stop myself.
Dante was allergic to hazelnuts, and so I’d never had one in the bakery. The coffee shop he worked in had a blanket ban on them, too—even hazelnut syrup, which was mostly artificial.
Milo shrugged. “Dad doesn’t really believe in allergies, so…”
“Your father is insane,” I said, which was probably the wrong thing to say to a man I was increasingly hoping might let me kiss him sometime, but again, I couldn’t have stopped myself.
Milo snorted. “I see you’ve met him,” he said, mouth twisting wryly as he dipped another fry.
I’d changed my mind, he could have all the mayo he wanted. Even if it did keep clinging to the corner of his mouth so he had to lick it away. He deserved any small pleasure he could get.
“I’ve met your mom,” I volunteered. “She seems nice. Can’t believe the whole time I’ve known you your sister has been just next door,” I added. What were the chances?
“I bet Instagram recommended your account to me exactly because of that,” Milo said, like he’d been giving it some thought. “Location data or whatever. Because I follow Dawn too, y’know?”
“I literally never noticed,” I said. “Blinded by your incredible photography skills and charming personality, I guess.”
Had he always blushed like that whenever I paid him a compliment?
“I wouldn’t go as far as either incredible or charming,” Milo said.
“I would,” I said, like I had a dozen times before, at least.
Milo was right. He was myfriend. He’d been the highlight of my day, too, more times than I could count. I didn’t have to be awkward with him.
