“Hey, we welcome jocks here too.” In a good mood from a rare win against Conrad, Kellan laughed. He tinkered with the cameras for the next segment.

“He’s not a jock.” My emphatic denial surprised me, so I softened my tone a little. “Exactly.”

“You like him.” Conrad raised an eyebrow, apparently all- knowing about matters of the heart now.

“I don’t dislike him.” I glanced back at the kitchen, hoping he wasn’t in earshot of this little exchange.

“Well, as long as he’s got nothing in common with that jock guy from high school who was such a jerk.”

Heck. Of course, Conrad would remember that story from one night when he’d needed a place to crash. We’d had one of those sleep-deprived oversharing conversations where I probably should have kept my mouth shut rather than sharing all my Milo angst.

“Um…”

“Oh, Jasper. Really?” Frowning, now Conrad was the one to glance at the kitchen. “I know you’re big on seeing the good—”

“People change.” I was back to being defensive about something I wasn’t entirely sure about myself. I wanted to believe in Milo, but a mountain of past evidence told me to be wary. And there was a difference between believing and trusting, a distinction my overclocked brain kept obsessing about. “They do. I’ve seen people change.”

“Not as often as we’d like.” Conrad sighed like he was oh so ancient now. “And it’s your life. But I feel like I should have words with this guy anyway.”

“You’re going to give a scary don’t-mess-with-our-friend lecture?” Alden sounded both impressed and dubious.

“If he doesn’t, maybe I should,” Kellan mused. “I mean if you and Jock Neptune are—”

“No one is giving anyone else a lecture.” I glared at Conrad, not really mad as much as frustrated. This was why I’d brought Milo in the first place. Being the single friend sucked. But my shoulders also sagged. I was setting myself up for a big disappointment if Milo wasn’t as changed as I’d begun to hope.

“Okay, okay. Besides, he seems cool so far.” As always, Kellan was quick to change directions. “The kids at the hospital love him. And look at him helping Professor Herrera, who usually doesn’t let anyone help in the kitchen.”

My gaze returned to the kitchen where Milo was grating a large block of cheese and laughing at something Professor Herrera said. Milo seemed totally at ease, perhaps even more so than I would be in there. I was always a little intimidated by Professor Herrera, who never had a hair out of place and who counted actual Broadway stars among his friends. My heart did this weird gallop watching Milo, remembering him talking about learning to cook and seeing him actually go for it, even if only to be helpful.