Milo smiles. “Well, if you want to stay, I won’t stop you.”
“Coach emailed me last night,” I say. “He’ll be at the cafe at 10 a.m. to take Gandalf. We don’t need to do the full forty-eight hours. He must feel sorry for us.”
“Hallelujah.” Milo huffs. “Not that I won’t miss the little guy, but he’s so much work.”
“Agreed. I don’t know how my mom did it. Aunt Maddy said she was a natural and loved being a parent. I don’t want to do it for another twenty years.”
“But you would have kids?”
His question takes me aback. “Oh, well, umm. I don’t know. Maybe. Ask me again in a decade or two.”
He sniggers. “Okay.”
Milo rubs Gandalf’s back gently and I can’t help focusing on every detail of his hands as my eyes become accustomed to the dark.
“What are you thinking about?” Milo whispers.
I break out of my stare. “Huh?”
“You looked deep in thought.”
“Oh.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Just thinking about a dream I had.”
“Good dream?”
I clear my throat and search for his eyes in the dark. “It felt real. Has that ever happened?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Or when something happens in real life, and you can’t tell if you imagined it.”
Milo shifts against the couch, fidgeting with his grip on Gandalf.
I lean closer. “I didn’t imagine it, did I?"
He gulps. “What?”
Clamminess coats my face and neck. My voice is shaky when I whisper, “The kiss.”
He blows out a hard breath. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“I shouldn’t have…”
“But I liked it.”
He pauses for two beats. “You did?”
“It was electrifying.”
He laughs, scratching the side of his head. “Oh. I figured you’d regret doing it.”
My stomach twists. “Why would you say that?”
He chews his bottom lip and turns away. “Because I’m not good enough for you.”
I gasp, my chest aching. “Did you really just say that?”
