“Ravioli alla Calabrese? Me too.” Milo helped himself to some pizza from the other side. “Someday I’m going to have my own place. And a fridge where my ingredients don’t up and disappear overnight.”

“Mood. I want more than a hot plate in the dorm.”

“Yup. Then I’m gonna learn to cook like my nona. I’ve got a list of stuff to try. Dad always gave Mom a hard time about her cooking never living up to Nona’s, so she doesn’t have any patience for it now, but there’s a recipe book some cousins put together. And I figure there are videos on how to do stuff.”

“I can help you find some good ones.” My chest constricted. I wanted that future for Milo. Better living situation for sure, but also somewhere he felt free to be himself, to draw and cook and chase away the memory of his dad and his stupid opinions on art and food. “Speaking of searching, let’s see what we can find for our card hunt.”

I set up my laptop, and we polished off the last of the pizza and split a giant brownie as we searched. But sky-high prices for even non-mint cards were super frustrating. The best brownie in town wasn’t enough to stop Milo’s frown.

“I wish this were easier.”

“Me too. I bet Conrad will have ideas,” I said as we packed up. “And I’m not giving up either. I work tomorrow. I’ll talk to Arthur, see if he has any inside hookup on rare cards.”

“Thanks. You’ve done a ton already. I appreciate it, man.” Milo clapped me on the shoulder as we headed to the exit, and for a second it seemed like he was about to put an arm around me, but then he dropped his hand. Our eyes met as we reached the door, and the glimmer of the moment that had passed was still there. He might not have done it, but he’d thought about it, and he’d wanted it. And now I did too.

The cold air greeted us, a sharp reminder that no matter what cozy meal we’d managed together, reality was still lurking. I wanted to run to the car, but I matched my pace to Milo’s, mindful of his leg. And despite the chill, I didn’t mind going slower, not when Milo glanced up at the gorgeous full moon, then over at me.

“It’s a nice night.”

“Yeah.” My breath hung in front of me, not unlike my heart which seemed perilously close to simply presenting itself to Milo on a platter. Don’t do it, I reminded myself, moving more of those mental barricades into position. We could maybe be friends. Maybe even friends who kissed. But no way, no how could I fall for him.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “For everything.”