Grace smiles and shakes her head. “I don’t believe for a single moment that any space with you and Zev in it isquiet.”
“Fair,” Zev says. “Pizza?”
“Yes, please,” Fowler replies.
We divvy out the pizza and we eat together as night finishes falling. One by one, porch lights flicker to life down the street. Grace demolishes an impressive amount of pizza the way all athletes do post games or performances before leaning back against the couch. Her stretches her arms overhead and sighs contently. But in leaning back, her shirt rides up just enough to show the pale strip of her stomach.
I avert my gaze. I can handle Grace’s constantly alluring scent. But seeing even that much of her skin that’s normally covered is sending all the inappropriate images to my mind.
“Fowler has got two more weeks of physical therapy sessions,” Zev says, as if resuming a conversation that never actually started. “After that, he’s cleared for light training.”
Grace sits up again, hiding away the treacherous view. “That’s awesome!” She grins at Fowler. “You must be ready to get back to some amount of normalcy.”
Fowler’s expression remains neutral, but the way his fists clench at his sides betrays him. “We’ll see what Captain Vegasays. My health is one thing, but I’ve not made the best decisions.”
Zev sets down his plate. “Fowler means he’s been an adrenaline junkie too long. Finally had enough?”
These two talk more like brothers than long-time friends. I’m happy to see Zev forcing accountability on Fowler, though, given Fowler’s the reason we all left the NHL.
Fowler sighs. His gaze falls to his broken leg. “For the most part.”
He leaves it at that. I wonder if this experience is enough to keep Fowler from going back to firefighting entirely. It’s a good fit for him, but insanely dangerous. But I can’t see him coaching kids like Zev does now.
The evening passes easily. It’s just like the hospital room with all four of us there. A month ago, there’d be so much tension here that we’d suffocate. Now? It’s likethishas always been. Grace with us. Four of us under one roof.
It feels like Grace has accepted us back despite not saying anything on that front.
Before I can bring it up, Grace’s phone rings. It’s Charlotte, although I don’t hear the conversation. It ends with Grace packing up her things.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte needs me,” she says. “She’ll be here in five.”
Concern whittles through me. “Is everything okay?”
Fowler sits up a little straighter hearing Charlotte’s name. “Is it those assholes?”
Grace shakes her head, but her smile is tight. “She just needs help with something for the next performance. But thank you for letting me come visit and hang out. I…” She trails off. Her lips part as if she’ll speak but then she shuts them again.
I know what she means to say.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to?—”
Grace looks at each of us in turn. “I’m just happy things feel normal between us, and that you’re feeling much better, Fowler. That’s all.”
“We’re happy that’s the case, too,” Fowler says.
But it’s left there for the night. I know I’m afraid to push too far, too quickly. I can’t imagine Zev or Fowler wants to risk our chances either. So instead of diving more into what Grace may or may not be feeling, we let it be until Charlotte’s here to pick up Grace.
Zev gestures toward the door once Grace is gone. “So like, she’s not still mad at us anymore, right? Because she’s been around so much.”
I incline my head toward Fowler. “Maybe she just likes tending to the wounded.”
“Hah, hah,” says Fowler. “No, you idiot. Zev’s right.”
“I know.” Probably better than both, since Grace kissed me. “I kind of wish she’d clearly state it, though. So we know where the boundaries are.”
“Think they’re still where they were,” Fowler says. “In the very least, they’ll stay there until she moves differently.”
“Maybe we should just risk it and ask her directly,” Zev says. “If she says no, then it’s a no, and we move on.”
