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“Is that what we are?” He flashes the slow, sexy smile that sparked the first crush I’ve had on a man in more years than I care to count. “Friends?”
I’m so out of practice that I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or seriously asking if we’re friends. “I’d like to think we’re friends.”
“We are.”
The time we’ve spent together has been a dream come true in more ways than one. Not only am I following in my late father’s footsteps by finally learning to fly, but I’ve loved the conversations I’ve had with my handsome instructor about life and growing older and family and so many other things. We bonded immediately over our affection for dogs after I met his golden retriever, Jet, who comes to work with him.
“Who’s taking care of Jet?”
“My neighbor.”
“Oh, good.”
He props his head on an upturned hand as he studies me.
I must look frightful after being up all night and ravaged with worry about my sweet Milo. All at once, I feel wildly self-conscious, which is rare for me. At my age, what the hell do I care about how I look? Except when Chris is around, I care. I run my fingers through my hair, hoping it’s not standing on end.
“I know this isn’t the time or the place with your grandson in the hospital and all, but I’d like to be more than friends.”
He no sooner says those life-changing words than someone knocks at my door.
Chris jumps up before I can tell him not to. “I’ll get it.”
I’m sure a family member has come to check on me, and them seeing him here will raise questions I’m not prepared to answer.
I hear Marlene’s voice and want to groan. She’ll take one look at this cozy situation and jump to all kinds of conclusions.
She comes into my kitchen with Alfredo behind her carrying a platter of treats. “I brought the pastelitos you like with the cheese.”
Alfredo puts the platter on the counter. “Can I get you one, Livia?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“And for you, too, young man?”
I want to die when Alfredo calls Chris that. Dear God… What am I doing?
“I’d love one,” Chris says. “Thanks.” He makes more coffee and brings it to the table with mugs for Marlene and Alfredo.
“What are you hearing from the hospital?” Marlene asks.
“Jason called Lo and said Milo was awake and aware and responding to pain.”
“That’s very good news,” Marlene says on a long exhale. “My heart’s been in my throat since the minute we heard.”
“Mine, too.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be sleeping like you ought to be.”
“Too hopped up on anxiety and caffeine. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I see with my own eyes that he’s okay.”
“I came because I didn’t want you to be alone, but I see that you’re not,” she says, her devilish eyes twinkling.
I want to smack her. “Chris was good enough to drive me home and make me breakfast.”
“I see that.”
Her gaze dances between me and Chris, questions burning on the tip of her sharp little tongue.
