Page 69 of Resorting to Romance

Kai turns to me, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of my best friend.

“Actually, Noah’s why I’m here. I have something for him. I wanted to bring it by after he got off school.”

“You didn’t have to get him anything. Is this for his birthday?”

Noah turns seven this month and it’s pretty much all he can talk about.

Kai looks down at his hands and back up at me. Then he takes a seat at the island. I smile shyly at Kai now that we’re alone. My body is reacting to him in ways my heart knows better not to. I feel like walking over and collapsing into his arms. I don’t, but I really, really want to.

“I wanted to get him something. This thing. And you have to promise not to freak out. I’ve got plenty of cash and investmentsand I own my home outright—well, Bodhi and I co-own it, but still. I’m not hurting, Mila. I’m not about to purchase an entire cove of an island, but I’m fine.”

“What did you do? This sounds way too extravagant.”

“It’s not. But I want you to be happy about this and not worry about what it cost me. Okay?”

I’m about to say it’s not okay when Noah comes bounding through the house and through the kitchen doorway like a cartoon character with spinning circles under his feet. He drops his backpack on the floor.

“Hi, Unko! You’re here. Did you park the golf cart out there?”

“Yep. I did.”

“Let’s have a snack!” Noah announces.

He goes to the fridge and pulls open his drawer where I keep all sorts of after-school food.

“Let’s see. We’ve got applesauce. Grapes. Cheese Sticks. Hummus. That’s gross. You could have it, though. And I think we’ve got chocolate chip cookies. Right, Mom?”

“We have a few left. But have something healthy with them. Okay?”

Noah comes out of the fridge carrying a bunch of things in his folded arms and then he releases his haul in a heap on the island.

“Plates?” he asks as if that’s optional

“Yes.” I answer for Kai.

Then I grab two plates, put them on the island and pour a glass of milk for Kai and one for Noah to go with the cookies I place on each of their plates. When I turn from putting the milk back in the fridge, the sight of the two of them at the island slams into me with the force of a fast-pitch softball to the gut.

They’re smiling at one another, ripping open their cheese sticks, and Kai’s making a mustache with his and talking to Noah in a goofy voice. Noah copies Kai right away and they burst out laughing.

They dig into the menagerie of snack items, talking and eating without any idea how this exchange is traveling straight to my heart, wrapping around it, and squeezing in a way that simultaneously aches and soothes.

“I got you something,” Kai says when Noah pauses his stream of endless after-school chatter for a breath and a bite.

“You got me something? Can I guess?”

“Sure. Take a guess.”

“Is it a puppy?”

Kai chuckles. “No. Not a puppy. I still want your mom to like me, so a puppy is not happening.”

“She likes you,” Noah says matter-of-factly.

Kai looks over at me. I hold his gaze, studying the warm caramel of his eyes.

“Is it … an Xbox?” Noah asks.

Kai looks back at Noah. “Nope. Not an Xbox.”

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