“No. Probably not.” I couldn’t keep the regret from my tone, and I very carefully avoided looking at Milo.

“You really want to, don’t you?” Milo asked me softly.

“Yeah. I do. But you asked me not to do that, so I won’t, but man, stomping him would feel so good.”

“And if you lost?” Milo’s mouth was a thin, narrow line.

I shrugged. “At least I would have tried. Even heroes have off days.”

With damp hands, Milo turned me by my shoulders, so we were eye to eye. “You’re already my hero.”

I’d waited maybe my whole life to hear those words, and my jaw dropped open, mouth filling with so many words I wanted to say and—

“Aw, you guys…”

I’d totally forgotten Kellan was still three feet away from us. “Kellan—”

“I’m going. Heading out now. Catch you both tomorrow.” Laughing, Kellan grabbed his coat and ducked out the back door.

“You mean that?” I asked the second the door clicked. “I’m your hero?”

“You are. No matter how this turns out. You saved me from myself, and that makes you a superhero in my book.”

“Wow. I always wanted to be the hero.” I could admit that aloud to him because he knew. He knew the kid I’d been who had wanted the cape and fancy costume and the big, daring rescues. It was part of why I loved being an older brother so much—I got to be April’s hero now and then. And Milo also knew the guy I was now, the one who let that urge to be the hero get the better of him sometimes. Like last night. Milo didn’t need rescuing, and I knew that he needed to do his own saving sometimes. However, all those big realizations didn’t stop me from wanting to swing in with the win anyway.

“You don’t have to win me the cards, but it means a lot that you want to try, even if I hate the idea of you anywhere near that scuzzbucket.”

“I know.” The air went out of my superhero fantasy, cape deflating. I wasn’t going to go behind Milo’s back or risk making him upset, not when we were finally in such a good place together.

“Too bad you can’t do a fake-out.” Milo looked away, studying the refrigerator art which as usual was a collection of tickets to upcoming events, magnets from their travels, and random drawings.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re big on me asking for help. Why not ask Conrad to hook you up with another ticket? Call in a favor. George doesn’t have to know you’ve got the hookup, and then it wouldn’t feel so much like you’re gambling your whole future on me.”