Page 66 of Promise Me Sunshine

Miles stops reading the text, looks up at me, andgrins.And I’m telling you, this smile is a heart-starter. If I ever go into cardiac arrest, FaceTime Miles and tell him to hit me withthatsmile. “Jericho said yes.”

“He really, really said yes!” I clap and jump and it must be because I’m excited even though the idea of a new friend has me a little nauseated.

“Lenny!” And that’s all he says. Because then he lifts his hand and, yup, he’s going in for the high five. Which, for whatever reason, absolutely cracks me up. But also,thwack,we nail that high five.

“Are you busy?” I ask him. “Because there’s something I want to do to celebrate this momentous occasion.”

“Let me grab a sweatshirt.”

Three minutes later Miles jogs down to meet me in the lobby in his faded black hoodie. He looks grumpy and gruff and I’m reminded why I fell momentarily in love with him when we first met. Maybe I’ll steal that hoodie someday.

He turns a full circle and then spots me sitting behind the desk with Emil the doorman, watching soccer on a teeny-tiny television with rabbit ears.

“This is the striker,” Emil says, pointing aggressively at the grainy image of a man with very tall socks on. “He is best in league.”

“He’s your hero,” I supply.

Emil gives me a look. “I have no hero. I am not child.” Then he dips his head to one side. “But he is very good at soccer.”

I don’t tell him this is textbook hero worship.

“Ready?” Miles asks me, leaning one elbow on the desk.

Emil jumps up, not having noticed Miles until now.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he says formally, prepared to race around the desk and swing the door open for us.

“Hi, Emil.”

I grab him by the shoulder and force him back onto his stool. “Your striker is about to score. Don’t get up.”

I scamper around the desk and outside as fast as I can so that he doesn’t try to beat me there.

Miles jogs after me, pausing to look back at the entryway as we skid to a stop on the sidewalk. “You’re the only person I’ve ever seen beat Emil to the door.”

“I’m very good,” I assure him.

“Apparently.” He falls into step as I charge us toward the train. I won’t tell him what our errand is for fear he’ll bail. Luckily he doesn’t ask. “So…you and Emil are friends?”

“Sure. Buddies. We formed an alliance because we’re both employees of the building, in a way.”

“Still fantasizing about him?”

“Huh?” I laugh. “Oh. No. He killed our love a few weeks ago.”

“How?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I see the way you look at me but I have girlfriend back home.’ Now I’m not in love anymore.”

“That’s all it takes for you to fall out of love? Not very tenacious.”

I shrug. “Falling in love is the fun part. Staying in love is a chore. You know firsthand, I fell out of love withyoueven faster than that.”

He grunts.

We get to the train, skid down the stairs, and slide through the doors right before they close. It’s not too crowded so we sit side by side.

“I don’t get you,” he says eventually.

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