Page 104 of Resorting to Romance

“Valedictorians of kissing,” I say.

“If they gave out scholarships, we’d both be getting a full ride.”

We both laugh as I open the door and hold it for her. The rain has come to an end along with this lapse from reality. Once we step out onto the beach, we’re back to being Kai and Mila: two friends who kiss really, really well, but can’t afford to go there. No matter what.

It’s been a little over a week since my picnic with Mila. Eight days of being around her without kissing. Eight days into the eternity I’ll spend wanting her and learning to quell my longings.

We spent an evening with my friends and their wives barbecuing on the beach and then hanging out around a bonfire last weekend. She fit in like she always does. As if she belongs in my world.

Brad showed up on the beach at the end of my surf lesson with Noah Saturday. Mila had told him he could. It felt like anintrusion on something sacred. But I don’t get a say in how she allows him to inch his way closer to his own son. There’s no easy way to make room for him, and she’s being amazing, so I support her choices and stay out of the way.

I don’t stay out of the way when he starts looking at her with the look a man gives a woman he wants. Those longing gazes might slip under Mila’s radar, but I see every one of them. And I’m by her side each time, kissing her temple, wrapping my arm around her, whispering in her ear—whatever it takes to fend him off and continue to claim Mila as mine.

Even though she isn’t.

I wake earlier than usual, but not before Bodhi.

“Hey. Want some coffee?” Bodhi offers when I round the corner into the kitchen.

Shaka looks up at me and walks over to sit at my feet. Then the dog just stares up at me, waiting for me to pet his head, so I do. I’ve given up resisting the mutt. He’s not going anywhere. I may as well make my peace with him. Kalaine and Bodhi still tease me that I’m secretly in love with Shaka. I’m not. I just know when to throw in the towel.

I fill my mug with coffee and join Bodhi at the kitchen table.

“How was Noah’s party?”

“Brad showed up on the fringes.”

“I wonder what Noah thinks. Here’s this random dude who keeps showing up all of a sudden.”

“He doesn’t seem to think much of it. He’s so in the moment.”

“The beauty of childhood.”

“Right? When Noah saw Brad, he said, ‘Hey, Mom! There’s that friend of yours from high school. Should we ask him to join us?’ That’s what comes from being raised by a gracious and inclusive woman. Noah’s got hospitality in his DNA. So, Brad joined the party.”

“So, how was it with him there?” Bodhi sips his coffee andstudies me.

“I did my part to fend him off and keep him convinced Mila’s not available.”

“Fend him off Noah?”

I shake my head. “He was watching Mila when she didn’t notice. I noticed. He’s still got a thing for her. Big time.”

“You’d think this whole contrived relationship of yours would send him a message.”

“He’s not crossing lines, but he’s like a vulture circling. He’s waiting for me to die so he can go in for the kill.”

“Technically, vultures don’t kill. You know that, right? They’re scavengers. They eat the carrion of someone else’s kill.”

“Okay. So, he’s waiting to swoop in when I die.”

“To eat your remains?”

“To reclaim his wife.”

“The vulture analogy isn’t working for me here,” Bodhi says, as if it deeply matters.

“Focus, Bodhi. Forget the vulture. Brad wants Mila. He’s waiting for things to go south between us so he can make his move. And I can tell he’s in it for the long game. He wants his wife back.”

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