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“Unfortunately not. But it’ll happen over food because if your schedule is that terrible then I assume your eating habits are abysmal too.”
“Ethel feeds me,” Milo said, but he shuffled into the kitchen and sat at the counter while Rowan popped a full plate into his microwave. “You cook?”
“Not even a bit. No time.” Rowan crossed his arms as he waited for the food. “My mom and my sister are both great cooks though, and they send me home with all the leftovers.”
Milo found himself intrigued. “You have a big family?”
“Parents, three siblings, two nieces, a gaggle of aunts, uncles, and cousins,” Rowan said. “Dragons are family oriented. We usually stick together.”
Milo swallowed and looked away.
“My parents must not have got the memo,” he mumbled, looking down and picking at a coffee ring on the counter.
“You have no information about them?” Rowan asked, pulling one plate from the microwave and putting the second in to warm up. He lined the cutlery up in front of Milo and put another set on the opposite end for himself.
Napkins, forks, knives. A proper sit-down meal.
“Nope.” Milo shook his head.
“Then you can’t know what happened,” Rowan said. “You might have been the most wanted baby ever before life screwed it all up.”
“I sincerely doubt that I, of all people, was the most wanted.” Milo tried for a joke, but Rowan decided to flip it all and take it seriously.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” he asked sincerely.
Milo squinted, covering the fact that his heart had thumped against his rib cage in a way he’d never felt before. It was foreign and uncomfortable, and he was already squirming from all the serious talk and didn’t want any more of it.
“You’re right,” he said. “I am kind of amazing.”
“There we go,” Rowan said with an eye-roll just as the microwave beeped.
He turned to grab the other plate and Milo let out a sigh of relief, taking a few deep breaths as he examined Rowan’s back.
Who even was Rowan Rangecroft? Milo had the sudden inkling that his initial impression of him might have been all wrong.
Rowan brought the plates to the counter and set one in front of Milo.
It smelled amazing!
Smoky salmon with creamy potatoes and some mixed grilled veggies. Even reheated, it looked entirely too appetizing.
He speared a forkful of everything and shoved it into his mouth, too impatient to try it all individually.
His tastebuds cried out in happiness and he almost shed a tear.
“OMG, tell your mom I’m gonna adopt her,” Milo said with his mouth full. Ethel was a better baker than she was a chef. She could handle basic dishes, but this was heaven on earth.
“The moment I tell her that the papers will be drawn up,” Rowan said with a half smile. Had Milo ever seen him smile before? It made him look younger. “You are entirely too skinny for her perception of what an adult should look like.”
“Eh.” Milo shrugged. “I got that whole Q-Tip aesthetic working for me. But she can absolutely try and fatten me up. I will gladly volunteer myself for experimentation.”
“I’ll let her know.” Rowan’s smile lingered.
“So your mom had four kids?” Milo asked.
Rowan nodded as he took a bite of his own food. He seemed to be a “don’t let this food touch the other foods” type of eater, but his bites were massive. A few forkfuls had him clearing half the plate. “Yup. Raina’s the eldest. She’s married and has twin teenage girls. Then Riley, Ruben, and me.”
“You’re the baby??” Milo asked, because he would not have clocked that AT ALL. “You have a middle child vibe, to be honest.”
