“That’s fair.”
“But…”
His eyes lifted.
“I’m also incredibly proud of why you did it.”
He looked relieved.
I held out my arms.
“Come here.”
Thirteen-year-old boys are terrible at elegant hugs.
Ethan practically folded himself around me, all elbows and awkward shoulders.
I squeezed him.
Then whispered:
“Next time you decide to make a major financial transaction…”
He laughed against my shoulder.
