I don’t know if Haley knows enough to put two and two together, so it seems wise to change the subject. “How’d you two get on the ranch?”
“Oh, Julio says hi.”
“Ah, so you sweet-talked your way in. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” Haley says sharply, brow still furrowed. “I’m mad at you, I think. Or mad at myself? Ofcourseyou were fine. I… Oh, god, does this count as stalking?!”
That guilty pang echoes. “No, Haley, I… Thank you. I wasn’t fine.”
Haley’s expression softens. “So coming out here wasn’t totally mental?”
I offer a wry smile. “It wasn’t totally mental. I’m impressed you found me.”
“That was all Mylo,” Haley says softly. “I didn’t even know you surfed.”
“Eh, here and there.”
Haley offers a brave smile, but I can tell she’s hurt. She must be used to people keeping her at arm’s length. And Mylo and I having our own secrets to keep certainly doesn’t help.
“Have you ever been surfing?” I ask.
“No, I don’t think I could.”
“I’m sure you could. I’ll take you out sometime. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
Her expression turns hopeful. “And if I make a total idiot out of myself?”
“Then you’re splashing around in the ocean in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Win-win.”
She smiles. “I never thought about it like that.”
The kettle whistles and nearly startles Haley out of her skin.
Mylo stirs, pulling himself upright. “Ngh… what just happened?”
“You passed out,” I say quietly.
At the sound of my voice, his breath catches, and his eyes turn up at me—now ringed with citrine amber. Relief blossoms through his scent.
Then his shell pulls back into place, brow furrowing.
“I’m fine now,” he mutters, stubbornly sliding off my lap and landing on his feet. He wobbles, leaning half his weight against the countertop. His hands splay wide, and he looks tempted to press his cheek to the cool stone. Given the heat already radiating from him, that’s no surprise.
He turns a scowl toward me. “You have some explaining to do.”
“It’s okay, Mylo,” Haley says soothingly, setting the kettle aside now that the mugs are full. “Christine needed the company.” She hesitates, glancing at me. “Right?”
“Right.”
“Cream? Sugar?” Haley asks.
“Milk’s in the fridge, should be sugar in the cabinet.”
Haley blinks. “Well, I was more asking what you wanted, but I suppose where any of that is would be my next question.”
“I know; I’m just messing with you. Just milk for me, and Mylo will take both. Maybe a little extra sugar.”
“Hey!” Mylo glares at me, and it looks absolutely pathetic with his feverish flush as he leans against the island.
