her questions. We can find some more information on our own.”
We.
Our.
The words play together in my head on a loop as I stare up at him, wondering how long he’s going to willingly ride this crazy train with me?
Before I can respond, he looks around as though trying to figure out where we are. “I understand we have to slay our own dragons sometimes, but if you want my help, I’m a pretty big fucking shield.” He uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear from my cheek.
“I don’t know if I want the truth.”
“We all want the truth. We’re just not always ready for it.”
His words etch across my thoughts with their painful reality. For a few seconds, we remain still, our gazes locked though I want to look away. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.
Arlo smiles, and it’s gentle and warm and patient. He brushes some loose hairs from my cheek, tucking them behind my ear, where his fingers linger against my skin.
My breath catches. His eyes slide to my lips, and my weight rolls to my toes so I can meet him because I know he’s going to kiss me. Something is happening between us—something I’ve worked hard to shove into the very back of my thoughts but continues to creep to the front.
He clears his throat and looks around again.
I take a step back, trying to convince myself this is better. Friendship is better.
“I’m not sure where we are,” he says with a soft chuckle. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, pulling open an app for maps. “You know, if we head this way a few blocks, we’re going to be by the aquarium. We can go, or if you’re not in the mood, we don’t have to. We can walk back or call a Lyft.”
“A distraction would be nice.”
Arlo grins. “Perfect. And I’m pretty sure Lincoln said Rae Rae was at work, so if you want a tour, I’ll message her. Otherwise, we’ll just keep it quiet and wander through the aquarium.” Without waiting for my response, he checks the street names and points to his left. “We have five blocks.” His hand encircles my shoulder again, pulling my body close to his chest. This time the confliction doesn’t join the warmth of his touch.
“What’s your mom like?” I ask.
Arlo glances at me, and I see the same flash of hesitation on his face. A hesitation I know is likely because of my current unknown that led us several miles from Miriam’s small shop
“It’s okay,” I tell him.
He presses his lips together and nods, his eyes flashing to the sidewalk and our surroundings before we come to another stop at a crosswalk. His natural smile widens. “I proudly wear a mama’s boy badge,” he says, swiping at his chest and then his bicep.
I laugh. “Like a tattoo?”
His smile expands, showing off his teeth and the slight crowding on the bottom that should remind me he’s not perfect—but only serves to make him more perfect. “No, but I should, right? Like, get it in the shape of an actual badge.” He draws the outline on his chest. “I know everyone claims to have the best mom, but my mom is truly the best, and I know that makes me sound like such a pussy, but I don’t even care. If I need anything, she would be here for me in a second. I could call her in the middle of the night, and she’d book a flight and be here the next day—that’s my mom. She worked to make every holiday, every birthday, every school function, and every summer be the best—pulling out all the stops. Honestly, that stuff was awesome because how many people can tell you they had a Quidditch-themed birthday party or cookies from the North Pole in July? But it was just her being there whenever I needed her that really makes her so great. When I got cut my freshman year from the football team, she was just as disappointed as me, and when I had a bad day, she’d watch movies with me and make me my favorite meals and just be there. That’s what mattered—she’s always there no matter what, and knowing that, it’s allowed me to take gambles I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
My heart feels warm and sad and happy all at once. “What about your dad?”
“He’s fucking rad. A bit of a hardass around the edges, but he’s soft as a marshmallow on the inside, and the