Out of Character by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Seventeen

Jasper

Telling myself that this wasn’t a date didn’t make my pulse slow one bit as I made my way to the table Milo had claimed. To my surprise, he wasn’t on his phone as he waited, but rather he had a mini sketchbook out, expression intent as his pencil moved across the page. I allowed myself the pleasure of watching him work for a few moments before I set the little plastic tent with our order number on the table.

“Oh, there you are.” His smile made my toes curl inside my sneakers. “Gonna tell me what you got?”

“Nope.” I grinned at him. “Gonna show me your sketch?”

“I don’t usually draw around people I know, but I had this idea and you didn’t laugh at my earlier one—”

“Of course not!” I glared at him. He was crazy-talented and couldn’t seem to see it. His Neptune had looked exactly like a promo piece for a Disney movie. Preferably one where the prince got his guy.

“Okay, okay. This is a rough idea of something I might do bigger if you don’t think it would be too stupid.” He tore the sheet out of the book and passed it over.

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.

“You’re easy.”

“Maybe.” His shrug and half smile had a flirty edge that felt new. And dangerous. When he sampled the pizza, eyes fluttering closed and tongue catching stray drips of sauce, the heat inside me turned to an inferno.

Even forcing my attention onto the pizza didn’t work. The flavors, which I usually loved, weren’t anywhere near as captivating as Milo’s face.

“So…boyfriends? Plural?” he asked as he helped himself to more pizza, voice way too deliberately casual.

“Not like a parade or anything. But, yeah, I’ve dated. I like dating more than random hookups for sure. But people have a way of not sticking around.” That sounded a little too emo, so I tried to make my voice brighter. “Stuff happens, and maybe we weren’t that serious to start with. They get back together with their high school person, or they go on a semester abroad and want to be free to sample the local everything, or they fall for someone at their internship. I’m still friends with everyone.”

“Wow. I can’t…” Milo shook his head.

“Can’t imagine there’s that many people willing to date me?” I narrowed my eyes.

“No, not that. More that I can’t imagine it for me.”

“But you want it?” My breath rushed out. I was far too invested in his answer. “Someday?”

His cheeks colored before he nodded quickly, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah. Someday.”

I wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation went from there. It felt significant somehow, but also like handling a live snake. Then he laughed, and everything was okay again.

“Right now, I want a significant relationship with this pizza. Like bring it home to meet my mom and change my social-media status.”

“Oh, my mom meets everyone in my social circle. Including this pizza. I got her hooked on another one they do with fig jam and prosciutto.”

“I’m gonna mention this place to my mom too. Pretty sure my relatives back in Catanzaro would flip at some of these flavor combos, but I’m sold.”

“I still remember that stuffed-pasta dish your grandma would do.”

“Ravioli alla Calabrese? Me too.” Milo helped himself to some pizza from the other side. “Someday I’m going to have my own place. And a fridge where my ingredients don’t up and disappear overnight.”

“Mood. I want more than a hot plate in the dorm.”

“Yup. Then I’m gonna learn to cook like my nona. I’ve got a list of stuff to try. Dad always gave Mom a hard time about her cooking never living up to Nona’s, so she doesn’t have any patience for it now, but there’s a recipe book some cousins put together. And I figure there are videos on how to do stuff.”

“I can help you find some good ones.” My chest constricted. I wanted that future for Milo. Better living situation for sure, but also somewhere he felt free to be himself, to draw and cook and chase away the memory of his dad and his stupid opinions on art and food. “Speaking of searching, let’s see what we can find for our card hunt.”

I set up my laptop, and we polished off the last of the pizza and split a giant brownie as we searched. But sky-high prices for even non-mint cards were super frustrating. The best brownie in town wasn’t enough to stop Milo’s frown.

“I wish this were easier.”

“Me too. I bet Conrad will have ideas,” I said as we packed up. “And I’m not giving up either. I work tomorrow. I’ll talk to Arthur, see if he has any inside hookup on rare cards.”

“Thanks. You’ve done a ton already. I appreciate it, man.” Milo clapped me on the shoulder as we headed to the exit, and for a second it seemed like he was about to put an arm around me, but then he dropped his hand. Our eyes met as we reached the door, and the glimmer of the moment that had passed was still there. He might not have done it, but he’d thought about it, and he’d wanted it. And now I did too.

The cold air greeted us, a sharp reminder that no matter what cozy meal we’d managed together, reality was still lurking. I wanted to run to the car, but I matched my pace to Milo’s, mindful of his leg. And despite the chill, I didn’t mind going slower, not when Milo glanced up at the gorgeous full moon, then over at me.

“It’s a nice night.”

“Yeah.” My breath hung in front of me, not unlike my heart which seemed perilously close to simply presenting itself to Milo on a platter. Don’t do it, I reminded myself, moving more of those mental barricades into position. We could maybe be friends. Maybe even friends who kissed. But no way, no how could I fall for him.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “For everything.”

“I wish we would have found more leads, but at least the food was good.” We reached the car, and I used the clicker that only sometimes worked to unlock both doors.

“It was amazing.” He looked right at me as he said it, too, and I shivered.

“So where am I taking you?” I asked as we settled into our seats and got buckled up.

“How about 1435 Birchwood? That would be nicer than going to Luther and James for sure.” He recited his old address with a wistful smile that made me remember memorizing our addresses and moms’ phone numbers together in prep for being allowed to walk home from school.

“Sorry.” Maybe I should invite him back to my room. Not for…that. But because he seemed so reluctant to go back to his place, and him sad was apparently my personal kryptonite.

However, right as I was about to offer, he sighed. “It’s over by that big shopping complex off Wilson.”

He gave me the rest of the directions, then started fiddling with my radio as I pulled out of the parking spot.

“It’s dead,” I informed him. “Gave up the ghost in the fall.”

“I could replace it for you. Stereos are easy. I did mine.”

Him offering made my chest all warm, but I had to laugh. “A new stereo in this?”

“Okay. Maybe not. You say I need new friends, and you’re not wrong, but we gotta find you a better ride.”

“Says the guy who currently swears by the bus.”

I meant it as a tease, but his face shuttered. “I’ve got reasons.”

“I know. Your car’s a collector’s dream. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I know.” He exhaled hard. “Driving…sometimes makes me a little nervous. Since the accident.”

“I didn’t know. But you drove to Philly. Rather well.”

“Well, yeah, I can drive. Not gonna lie, though, my nerves were real. It’s hardest having someone in the car with me. Not personal to you. Just…”

“You were driving? In the accident?” It was the first time he’d seemed at all willing to discuss the accident, and I didn’t want to lose a chance to know more about him.

“Yeah.” His voice became distant and far off. “We were on the way back from a party we had no business being at. Right in the middle of the season, so it was against team rules to be out that late, and none of us were twenty-one yet. I was the most sober of us, which wasn’t saying much.”

“It wasn’t your car, though?”

“It belonged to a buddy of mine from the team. Ended up with an insurance nightmare because it wasn’t mine and theirs didn’t want to cover. Anyway, it was a stupid thing. Thought I saw a deer in the road, and I swerved to miss it but overcompensated, and we ended up rolling into a ditch. It was bad.”

“I’m sorry.” It felt like all I could say and totally inadequate at the same time.

“Don’t be. You’re not the one who fucked up.”

“Did anyone…” I let my voice trail off because my morbid curiosity wasn’t helping Milo’s audible pain at recounting the experience.

“No one died. But they could have. So easily. It ended up that I was the worst of the injuries. Small justice, I guess.”

“You made a mistake. A huge one. But that doesn’t mean that you deserved such a gruesome injury.” Stopping at a red light, I sneaked a glance at his face, which was a mask of pain. Eyes shut, mouth fixed and hard.

“Yeah. I get that. And yet…I put my family through such shit. It wasn’t that long after Dad passed.”

“Which may have played a role, I’d bet.”

“Quit trying to make excuses for me.” He groaned and slumped further in his seat. “Sorry. You’re being nice. But I don’t deserve nice. Not about this. I know full well what I did was wrong on so many levels. And I didn’t deserve Mom and Bruno’s help either. He came. There was…police involvement. Charges. I didn’t lose my license, but it was close. And there were fines. Bruno helped me handle all of it. Said I could repay him over time.”

“He’s a good brother,” I said.

“Yeah. And how do I pay him back? I was a dumbass again. Got myself fleeced. Was drinking. Again. At least this time I walked my butt home. Progress?”

“In your defense, I’ve played George. He can be…persuasive.”

“He flirted with me,” Milo admitted softly as I passed the shopping center.

“I’m not surprised.” I’d suspected as much ever since Milo told me he was into guys.

“You figured?”

“He’d flirt with a fire hydrant if he thought it would get him primo cards. He tried it with me and a number of my friends too. Flirts with the guys who are into that, but he’s charming with everyone. And none of us lost cards worth as much as the Frog Court to him, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on his part.”

“Oh. So it wasn’t just me.” Milo’s tone was hard to read as I turned into the apartment complex he’d indicated. “Second building on the left.”

“Did you want it to be specific to you?” I asked gently as I parked a little way down from the building. Milo hadn’t asked, but I figured that neither of us needed Luther or James ruining what was otherwise a pretty damn good day.

“No. I didn’t want… Okay. That’s a lie. Maybe I was flattered. At first. But then he made me feel… I dunno. Slimy? Used?”

“Yup. That’s George. He’s a charming bastard when he wants to be.”

“I’m never drinking again.” Milo gave a firm nod, meeting my gaze. “That was it. I’m not going to say I’ll never be a dumbass again, because I’m still me, but I also don’t want to be that guy who never learns his lesson. Not anymore. I want…something more. To be more.”

“I believe in you.” Patting his arm, I put all my conviction into my voice because I sensed he needed that, needed someone who believed he could change. And maybe no one had said that to him in a long time because his eyes went glassy and his lower lip trembled.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“I mean it.”

He didn’t reply, instead leaning into my touch. Moving slowly, he turned toward me and stopped when our faces were millimeters apart. It didn’t take a genius to see what he wanted, and while I appreciated the hesitation, no way was I turning him down, not in that moment. I nodded slightly, and that was all it took for him to find my mouth.

Like the first time, it was sweet and slow at first, and his hesitance was even more of a turn-on now that I knew I was the only one to ever do this with him. And even though he’d been the one to initiate the kiss, his deliberate, soft movements made it easy for me to take the lead. He was a fast study, mimicking me as I nipped at his lips. I sucked on his lower lip, and he shuddered, groaning softly then immediately doing the same thing to me.

Pulling him closer, I did what I’d been dying to do for days and deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth. He tasted sweet, like chocolate, and vaguely spicy, and his inquisitive tongue was about to make me unravel. His little noises were even better—gasps and whimpers and soft groans like he was as utterly desperate for this as I was.

But I was also a little too aware of being in a public parking lot, engine still running, and the last thing I wanted was to out Milo to his jerk friends. Reluctantly, I pulled away, breathing hard.

“Not as terrible as the first one?” He gave me a soft, shy smile.

“Nowhere close to terrible.” My voice was all husky, and even knowing we were way too exposed, I was still tempted to haul him back for another kiss. “You should probably get inside before one of us freezes.”

“Or spontaneously combusts.”

“That is a risk.” We laughed together as he gathered his stuff.

“Drive safe. Text me?” he asked as he opened the door.

“I will.” No point in playing it cool. I would text, exactly like how I’d give him more non-terrible kisses if I got the chance. And despite everything, I hoped I did.