Page 124 of I Think They Love You

“Nothing!” he lies.

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” she tells him as Denz staggers to his feet, dusting off his slacks and straightening his shirt. “I need a favor.”

“What kind?”

“I need you to babysit Mikah on Thursday, after school.”

Denz’s mouth quirks. “Whyyy?”

Kami sighs in thatyou already know whyway, but Denz doesn’t relent. If he’s bailing her out, he wants specifics.

“To spend more time with—” Her eyes dart around, making sure no one’s in earshot. “—Suraj. All the Sedwick planning. This CEO stuff. Making sure I don’t forget to feed my own son. His residency—” She pauses when Denz’s grin widens, realizing she’s accidentally shared another Suraj detail she hasn’t mentioned before. “I need to give some attention to my relationship.”

“Relationship?”Denz squeals quietly.

She swats his shoulder, hard. “Yes, okay? I don’t want my boyfriend to feel the same way Mom did.”

Denz chews his lower lip. Those memories of the arguments and silence and so-close-to-crumbling between their parents move like ghosts in Kami’s dark eyes. It’s another reason why he never commits to anyone. Other than the whole “ditched by the love of my life for Jolly Ol’ England” thing. It’s hard to balance such a demanding career and a relationship.

But if Suraj means that much to her…

“Are you free?” Kami asks.

“Maaaybe.”

The thin veil of patience on Kami’s face is quickly dissipating. “You owe me, Denz.”

“Are you resorting toblackmailingnow, Kamila?”

“If it means I can have at least three hours with Suraj? Then, yes.” She runs fingers over her pearl necklace.“Please?”

“Fine. Uncle Denzie to the rescue.”

She tugs him into a hug, whispering, “Thank you,” then disappears into her office.

Denz opens his message app, smiling. He fires off a quick text to Braylon:

change of plans… wanna play sick for the film festival to hang w me & my smart amazing loveable nephew?

-18-

Denz’s apartment kitchen is larger than the one he had in Athens. Endless countertop space, shiny appliances, and a window above the sink that faces a nearby park. It’s also less lived in. Everything has that new or barely used gloss. Right down to the marble-top island he hovers near as his nephew builds the world’s tallest sandwich.

“Mikah,” he says gently, “are you sure you want all that cheese?”

“Yes!”

“And no bacon?”

“Nooo.” Mikah’s kneeling on a chair so he’s at the proper height to add another slice of Gruyère to the pile. Thank God he didn’t inherit his mom’s weak stomach. “It’s better that way, Uncle Denzie!”

“It’s fine,” Braylon says from behind Denz.

He’s busy whisking the batter. It’s his first time in Denz’s kitchen. In hisapartment. And yet… he looks at home. As comfortable as being in a swimming pool again.

Denz is admittedly overwhelmed by the sight.

“However,” Braylon begins, sidling up to Mikah’s other side.

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