“Danielle…”
“Hm?”
“You looked good. The bow suits you.”
A small smile curved my lips. “Thanks, Micah.” It didn’t entirely erase the sting of being kicked out so the grown-ups could have a meeting, but the praise helped my heart feel a little bit lighter.
Over half an hour later, I was climbing the steps of my apartment building. It was a three-story brick walk-up that spanned the length of the street with six connected units. I unlocked the front door and climbed the flight of stairs to the apartment I’d been renting since moving to Earth. It was far from extravagant, but it was mine and I’d gotten it without help from my brothers.
I was greeted by the sound of music blaring from my living room. Considering I lived alone, it was a strangely common occurrence.
“Breaking and entering again, I see,” I said when I found Miles in my kitchen, helping himself to my food and dishes like he owned the place.
“Is it breaking and entering if you gave me a key?” He tossed a grin over his shoulder at me.
“I gave you the key foremergencies.”
Miles shrugged. “This is an emergency. I ran out of vegetable broth.”
“You do realize it would have taken you less time to go to the store than to come here, right?”
“But the grocery store isn’t as much fun.”
I rolled my eyes and dropped into the wheeled chair at my kitchen table. I’d furnished the entire apartment from thrift stores and yard sales and hadn’t bothered to update since then. I liked the eclectic vibe.
“What are you making?” I asked, spinning the chair to face Miles.
“Vegan mushroom stroganoff.”
I frowned. “I didn’t think I had any mushrooms.”
“You didn’t. I brought them.”
“Wait, did you just say you’re cooking veganfood?” Miles respected my choice to not eat animal products—I didn’t actually have a problem with meat, but I refused to eat anything that hadn’t been raised well, so it was usually easier to just avoid it—but respect and cooking for me were two very different things.
“Sure.”
“Since when do you do that?”
“I felt like it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’m calling BS.”
“Fine. Jessica wants to try your crazy-ass diet, so I’m learning how to cook vegan and you get to be my guinea pig.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re cooking for me so I can tell you if it’s good before you give it to your girlfriend?”
“Pretty much.”
“I can’t figure out where that leaves you on the friendship scale.”
“Let’s say it makes me an awesome friend.”
“Sure. We’ll go with that.”
After dinner, which Miles utterly refused to let me help make, the two of us curled up on my couch in front of the television and browsed through Netflix. Miles pretended to try to convince me to watch various action movies even though we both knew we’d end up rewatchingPride and PrejudiceorBridgerton. We’d discovered our mutual love for historical romance movies at the beginning of our friendship, and it had become our thing.
“Why don’t we have balls like that anymore?” I asked,resting my head on Miles’s shoulder as couples danced on the screen.
