Page 20 of The Love Comeback
“Oh, I could totally arrange that,” Kade immediately chimes in return. However, as soon as his gaze meets my glare, he quickly clears his throat. “But unfortunately, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be here every night. You know, you have … you have homework and stuff.”
Colton makes a face. “Meh, yeah, I guess so. But it would still be cool to spend every night hanging out with you.”
Kade squeezes Colton’s shoulder. “Yeah, it would be cool for me, too.”
I rip my gaze away and do my best to swallow the warm feeling that follows the exchange.
I have to keep my distance from him.
Chapter Eight
Ella
The drive home from the circus is quiet. I keep my gaze fixed out the window, nervous that if I look at Kade for too long, I might forget all the reasons I should keep my distance.
“That was really fun,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. I glance back at Colton, who’s passed out in the backseat, his head lolling against the window, mouth slightly open. “I think you wore him out.”
Kade chuckles, the sound warm and familiar in the confined space of his truck. “I think the circus wore him out. Did you see his face during the motorcycle cage? I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head.”
I smile. “Yeah, he was pretty mesmerized. I haven’t seen himthatexcitedin a long time.”
“Really?” Kade glances at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “He seems like a pretty excitable kid to me.”
“Well, hockey makes him excited,” I admit, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Andyou, apparently. But this was different. This was pure joy, you know? The kind kids should have all the time.”
Something shifts in Kade’s expression, a softness I’m not prepared for. “He deserves that.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing the knot that forms in my throat whenever I think about everything Colton has lost. “He does.”
We fall into silence again as Kade navigates through the late-night traffic. The radio plays softly in the background. I catch myself almost reaching to turn it up—a habit from our high school days when we’d drive around with the windows down, singing at the top of our lungs.
“So”—Kade clears his throat—“how’s the new place? Getting settled okay?”
I almost laugh. “Depends on your definition of ‘settled.’ I’ve managed to unpack the kitchen and most of Colton’s room. Everything else is…”—I wave my hand vaguely—“a work in progress.”
“Moving’s the worst.”
“Especially when you’re doing it mostly by yourself,” I add, then immediately regret it. I don’t want his pity.
Kade’s eyes flicker to me again. “I could help, you know. I’m pretty good atunpacking boxes.”
“I’ll bet,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “But we’re managing. Just takes time.”
He nods, not pushing it, and I’m grateful. The last thing I need is to feel indebted to Kade Santos. The skating lessons are already more than enough.
I glance back at Colton again, his face peaceful as he sleeps. “Tomorrow morning’s going to be fun. Getting him up for school is going to be like waking the dead.”
Kade laughs. “Sorry about that. Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested this on a school night.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “Some things are worth being tired from.”
The words linger in the air for a moment.
Kade glances over at me, a curious look on his face. “Do you remember how we used to stay up until midnight together every year on our birthdays?”
“Of course I remember,” I reply softly, a pang of nostalgia washing over me. “We’d watch movies and eat junk food and count down to midnight with our sparkling apple cider like the ball was about to drop.” I chuckle at the mental image of us huddled together on the old plaid couch in my mom’s den, the clock on the DVD player blinking 11:58, a pile of movies and an empty bag of Cheetos at our feet. Every year, we made a pact to keep each other awake until the very second our birthdays began.
“And then we’d both pass out by 12:05, every time, without fail.” He laughs. “Gosh, I miss those days.”
