I’d spent more time than I cared to admit fantasizing about his hands, and it felt so much better to touch them than I could’ve imagined. Not just because I had the world’s most ridiculous crush on him, but also because he was my friend, and now he was real and solid and I couldtouchhim.
I’d almost forgotten, but as I stood and looked at him cuddling Orion close to his chest and quietly explaining that food was coming and he just had to be patient, a surge of excitement welled up in my chest. Seattle—Milo—washere. I could reach out and touch him. After wanting to for so long.
Dante, unfortunately, was right. I wanted him.
And he was right about another thing, too, I realized as I promised I’d only be a second and Milo smiled up at me, kitten curled up in his hands and snuggled into his sweater.
Milo was safe.
I could have this.
10
MILO
We practically fellout of The Friendly Otter beer garden, laughing at a story Xander had told about trying to take a picture of one of the kittens and accidentally pelting it with its favorite toy. It wasn’t funny, exactly, but the way he told it was, and we were both relaxed and full and happy.
I hadn’t felt as relaxed in a long time. Or as happy.
I was outright buzzing, and it wasn’t really because of the beer. It was because of Xander. His company.
It was just like all the times I’d sat and messaged him and forgotten about the whole rest of the world. Like we were the only two people in it.
The stars were so bright out here.
… maybe some of the buzz was from the beer, after all.
“There are actual tears in my eyes,” I told Xander. “You always make me laugh. Even when I don’t feel like it.”
“Same,” Xander said.
“When you asked me, earlier, if I was checking my hookup app,” I said, glad it was dark enough that if I blushed over bringing that up again, Xander at least wouldn’t see it. “I was opening Instagram to message you. Just out of habit. I don’t know if you even like it when I do that, but I eat alone most of the time, so…”
“I love it,” Xander confirmed. “I love it whenever you message me. About whatever.”
I nodded, swallowing past a lump in my throat.
Xander hadn’t had a boyfriend, as it turned out. Not really, anyway. So maybe I hadn’t been misreading him.
My stomach swooped at the thought. Maybe Ihadn’tbeen misreading him, maybe he really was flirting, maybe…
“Same,” I said once I had control of my throat again.
Maybe Zara was right, and I should take this opportunity to have something nice, for myself, just this once.
“How’s the baby?” I asked, instead of asking about that. I’d never been good at making an approach. If not for the kittens, I would never have commented under one of Xander’s posts in the first place. I could fake confidence at work, but in real life I couldn’t even dream of it. Work was justwork.
If I was wrong about how Xander felt about me, that had real consequences. Consequences I didn’t want to risk.
“Snoring,” Xander said, grinning. “You probably can’t hear him from there, but from here he sounds like a tiny lawnmower.”
“I hope he knows his uncle Milo loves him very much.”
“He knows, he was drooling on you when I got back. That’s a sign of affection in cats.”
“He only loves me for my body heat,” I joked.
“And because you were calm and felt safe,” Xander added. “He probably thinks you’re funny, too.”
