Out of Character (True Colors 2)

My breath literally caught, as if my oxygen had snagged on all the too-sharp emotions assaulting me. It was Chase, but not Chase like he’d been that afternoon, tired and hurting. Rather, it was Chase as a superhero, cape flapping behind him, wearing a big smile like the one he’d had for Milo that first day.

“Wow. That’s incredible. You have to give that to him and his dad. Please. I bet it would mean a lot to them.”

“Okay. I’ll try to do a bigger version. Better. Less smudgy.” Milo’s mouth pursed like he was seeing something different than the near-lifelike drawing in front of us. I’d always had mad respect for anyone who had art skills, and I had enough artsy friends to know when I was seeing true talent.

“Perfectionist.”

“Maybe.” His cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, but the tilt of his chin said that he was secretly pleased at my compliments.

My phone buzzed, and I used him turning to put the sketchbook away to sneak a glance at my messages.

“Oh, cool. This is actually relevant to our card search.”

“Yeah?” Milo leaned forward.

“I told my friend Conrad about our quest. Not the why, of course, but I wanted his opinion on locating the remaining Royal Frog Court cards on the cheap.”

“What did he say?” Milo’s mouth stayed flat, but his eyes glimmered, like he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“That Odyssey tends to pretend that the secondary market for cards doesn’t exist. And that corporate doesn’t have a secret vault of them where he can score them.”

“Darn.” The glimmer was gone now, and I slumped in my chair, hating that I didn’t have better answers for him.

“But it wasn’t all bad news. He and Alden are coming down this weekend to film a special episode of the Gamer Grandpa vlog we’re both regulars on. He says he’s going to do some hunting and we can talk about it Saturday night. Alden might have ideas too.”

“So you’ll keep me posted?” Milo’s tone was cautious. And somewhere in between wanting to give him something worth getting excited about and my own complicated feelings about the gathering, inspiration struck.

“Actually, I can do one better. You free Saturday night?”

“You want me to meet your friends?” Frowning, Milo leaned back. He wasn’t nearly as positive as I’d presumed.

“Well, you’ve already met some. Kellan will probably come too and bring Jasmine. They’ve both been on the program more this year. We’re filming at Professor Tuttle’s house, and his husband is making food.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” That wasn’t a no, but like earlier when I’d made the pizza invite, Milo’s discomfort was hard to read. Like, was it a new-people thing or a not-wanting-to-be-perceived-as-a-couple thing?

“I already told Conrad that I needed the cards for a friend, not myself. And the professor loves a crowd. One more won’t be a problem. In fact, it might even be good,” I admitted.

“Ah. Good for the get-Milo-new-friends quest or good for not wanting to appear jealous of your friends coupling up?”

Damn. He was too perceptive. “I’m not jealous.”

Milo merely raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, not jealous much. I’m used to being seen as just a friend, the goofy one in our crowd, not date material. It’s not like I was in love with either of them. And I’ve had boyfriends.” I sounded way too defensive, and Milo continued to study me carefully. “It’s more that it’s…mildly annoying to see them all lovey-dovey. Maybe I miss when they hated each other, but I’m also happy for them. Really.”

“I’m in.” Milo nodded like he knew something I didn’t.

“Okay. But—” The arrival of our food cut me off from telling him that I didn’t need a buffer. And I had a feeling he would have seen through the denial anyway. It was weird, being happy for my friends, but also wistful that I hadn’t been able to finish the road trip with them. I didn’t want to be with Conrad precisely, but I sure wouldn’t have minded playing hero for him. The past weekend with Milo had shown me how good that felt but also made me more aware of what I’d missed.

“Now this is an amazing smell. Unlike earlier. Tell me what I’m about to eat?” He gestured at the steaming pizza that the waiter had set on a serving rack between us. Milo’s intent expression was overtly hungry—eager eyes and open mouth—and heat rushed up my spine. I wanted to see that look more.

“This half is buffalo chicken. The other is barbecue brisket.”

“Wing flavors on a pizza? I love it already.” Milo smiled widely, like I’d known he would. He’d always been more than willing to try different pizza toppings growing up. Now I was, too, and even before he reappeared in my life I’d sometimes thought about him whenever I tried something outrageous.