Page 124 of The Incredible Ordinary

Milán watches them, and when he looks at me he’s smiling.

“You know a lot of that is thanks to you?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You took us under your wing.”

I roll my eyes. “That feels like a vast overestimation of my role.”

He grabs my hand and squeezes.

“I’m serious.”

He lets go too soon, and my hand immediately feels empty.

It doesn’t help that he looks really good in his dark jeans, winter jacket, and thick wool hat. More than noticing how good he looks, I notice that I notice. I notice how naturally it registers that I like his face. There’s no agonizing. No why him, why now, how. Nothing but easy acceptance.

I like your face. I like your thoughts. I like everything that comes with you.

“You know how to skate?” I ask. We’re headed to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where they just opened the rink for the season. It’s been a tradition for me and Theo ever since he was old enough to put on skates.

“Adequately enough not to make a complete ass of myself,” he says.

It’s the weekend, so the park is crowded, but we booked the tickets in advance, so our two hours of fun are guaranteed no matter how many people are here. Theo has his own skates, butthe rest of us head for the rental counter, then we gather around the bench and lace up our skates.

I’m wobbly at first, like every year. Theo doesn’t have that problem. The kid has inherited the kind of agility that neither Kira nor I possess, so I have no idea where he got it from.

Rory gets on his skates cautiously at first, but soon he’s zooming away after Theo with no issues.

Milán gets up from the bench, turns around to face me, somehow manages to trip, and lands on his ass immediately.

I try not to laugh, but he looks so helplessly baffled by the turn of events that I can’t help it. Laughter bubbles out of me. He sends me a wry look, but when I reach out my hand to help him up, he tugs, and I lose my balance at once, landing on top of him with an “Oof.”

He throws his head back and roars with laughter.

“This calls for revenge,” I tell him.

“You can try.”

He rolls onto his hands and knees and gets up. With a wink, he skates away from me. I get up and chase after him. When I catch him, he laughs some more.

The whole thing turns into an elaborate game of tag that soon includes both Rory and Theo.

Long story short, we almost get kicked out because it turns out tag is against the rules, so eventually we end up skating side by side around the perimeter of the rink.

When our time is up, we’re all starving, so we find the nearest diner and order burgers and fries. We sit in a booth, me next to Milán and Theo next to Rory.

We talk and laugh and eat, sharing our fries and desserts.

I lean back and listen to the three of them tease each other, even Rory chiming in.

And everything feelsjust right.

Thanksgiving isa blur of family and food. Milán’s brother is working, so he and Rory come over to our place.

We cook too much food and then eat too much food and then all groan and lie around in the living room.

Wren falls asleep with his head on Sutton’s stomach, and Sutton keeps carding his fingers through Wren’s hair, smiling down at him softly. It’s not the two of them that catch my attention the most, though. It’s Milán’s expression when he looks at me. There’s hunger in his gaze. It’s subtle—a slight shift in his expression and a softening around the eyes. I don’t know what he’s thinking of exactly, but I can almost see the shape of it forming in him.