Page 158 of Parts of Us


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“I was scared at first,” he admitted. “I asked Daddy about everything behind your back, but it’s gotten better.”

I knew what he meant. I’d caught some of those behind-my-back questions because our boy couldn’t whisper in those moments to save his life.

“I know what to Google now,” he finished with a grin. “Sugar and salt, bad. Broccoli, good.”

I rumbled a low laugh and gave him a smooch. “What a relief. All the broccoli I can eat.”

“So much of it,” he giggled. “But—” He took a breath and set the humor aside. “Cameron gave me a good rule. He said that once your blood pressure is normal again, it’s okay to be sneaky sometimes, and when I asked him to specify, he said once a week for secret sneakery.”

Secret sneakery.

I liked that term.

I liked that rule too.

“Something to look forward to, then.” I loosened his tie a little. “When I’ve improved more, we’ll have a secret sneakery date once a week.”

He beamed.

Our food arrived not long after, and I was happier than ever I’d asked him out tonight. We needed this moment to ourselves, and I made a mental note to make it a more frequent habit. Even if it included broccoli.

We remained seated next to each other and lost the next few moments in tasting our fantastic food. The dumplings were incredible, the chicken bao sliders were a new experience, the spicy miso soup with ramen was great—Noa and I decided to recommend it to River and Shay—but my favorite was probably the tempura vegetables and duck.

“Try this one, darling.” I pinched a piece of duck between my chopsticks, dipped it in the glaze, and extended the morsel to Noa.

He closed his mouth around it and lit up. “Oh my gosh.”

“Right? We should bring Daddy and Cam here one night.”

“We gotta!” He nodded quickly and moved the bowl of soup closer to him.

No matter the precautions he took, Noa couldn’t eat soup without spilling or having some dribble down his chin.

I smiled and tucked his napkin into his shirt.

“Oops.” He wiped his mouth…with the cuff of his shirt. “Anyway. About Cameron—when are you gonna ask him to marry you?”

And there we go. I’d spent at least two damn hours before dinner thinking about the best way to bring it up, and Noa simply put it out there for me.

I exhaled a chuckle and shook my head.

I should’ve fucking known.

“That’s actually the reason I mentioned earlier,” I admitted. Partly, anyway.

He stopped eating and glanced at me curiously.

“I wanted you to know that I…” I cleared my throat. Fuck, I felt oddly nervous all of a sudden. I wasn’t used to that, though I was sure I’d feel it again on Tuesday. “I plan on asking him on Monday, but I want your stamp of approval first.”

One of the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “Are you asking me for my blessing, Uncle Loosh?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. That name needed to die.

“I’m asking you to be okay with it.” I dabbed my own napkin over his chin. “You and Cam have your own special bond, and?—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Sir,” he said. “I will always love him—and what we have—and without downplaying any of our dynamics, you two gotta do this. I mean, it’s right up your traditional alley. He’s been doodling Leroux after his name in his proverbial notebook since he met you.”

I let out a breath, allowing the relief—and mirth—to wash over me.

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