Ezra switches to my other foot. “I went to Mano’s and talked to his mom. Kane’s grades really are pretty bad, but honestly, I’m not surprised. He lost his mom, then he had to pick up and move to a place where he knew no one. The issue isn’t that he’s been slacking off. I put in a call to the school to get him enrolled in the summer program, and Mano’s mother said he’s welcome for as long as needed.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I think I am.” Wearing a thoughtful expression, he twists his mouth to one side. “For now, at least.”
I stare at his profile, his loose hair brushing his shoulders.
An urge to tuck it behind his ear hits me hard, so I give in and do just that.
Squeezing my foot, he zeroes in on me, a grin tugging at his lips. “Would you mind sitting with me while I watch TV for a bit? I just need to shut my brain off.”
“Not at all.” I scoop the remote up off the coffee table and hand it to him.
Ezra takes it, then pulls me in closer. Though I should probably push back, I sink into his touch instead. I’m instantly engulfed in the spicy scent of his beard oil and the warmth of his body. We’re too close. But it’s clear that this is what he needs right now.
Plus, it’s just cuddling.
14
Ezra
IASKEDMillie to sit with me so I could give my brain a break, but that plan went to shit as soon as I started petting her. I didn’t mean to, but the second she pulledmyelastic fromherhair, instinct took over, and my fingers acted of their own volition. At first, I rolled the ends of her silky strands between my fingertips, but eventually I was fully massaging her scalp and neck. I don’t even fucking know how long I’d been doing it before she groaned “that feels nice.”
I could have stopped.
I should have.
But her soft, throaty voice was like a drug, and I needed another hit.
Now, three episodes ofNew Girllater, her legs are draped over my lap and my arm is wrapped around her waist.
“All right, birthday boy.” She claps, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “As much as I love watching Nick and Schmidt’s bromance continue to blossom, we’re celebrating. What do you want to do?”
A lump lodges itself in my throat. “I don’t like celebrating my birthday.”
“What?” She gasps, her lightness dimming. “I will not accept that answer. Try again.”
Knowing her, there’s no use arguing. “Ugh, fine. What did you have in mind?”
That green-eyed sparkle returns. “Prepare to have thetime of your life, honey.”
“Are you suggesting karaoke?” I’m catapulted to the last time she sang those words. I could have sworn she was going to perform the infamousDirty Dancingsong in Greece. Instead, she impressed the pants off the entire crowd when she sang “Dancing Queen.”
Months later, my mom and I saw her perform as Sophie in the traveling production ofMamma Mia, though I much preferred her karaoke version. Zero inhibition. Pure joy.
“Did you have fun at dinner?” Millie asks as we stroll along the boardwalk to the bar.
“I did, thank you.”
Val met us at the restaurant, along with Kane and Mano. Millie also arranged for my mom and Cam and Joey to join us via FaceTime when the servers brought out a dark chocolate cake lit with an obnoxious number of candles.
After the entire restaurant sang and my blood pressure and body temperature spiked, I leaned into Millie so only she could hear. “You’ll pay for that.”
I’ve disliked celebrating my birthday for as long as I can remember. Most of the time, I spent it in Brooklyn, longing for a dad to light my birthday candles and sing loudly and embarrassinglylike all my other friends’ fathers. Occasionally, I was here in Hawaii, wishing my fatherwas absentbecause he’d use my birthday to score women and free drinks. In either scenario, I was miserable.
“Oh my god.” Jumping, Millie points at a wild rooster and a hen with chicks.
They’re so common on the island that I barely notice them anymore, but it’s clearly a novelty to her.
