Page 117 of You Fall First

“Yeah.” I insist.

But he must not believe me, because he slowly massages my fingers, one at a time, from the base of my knuckles to the tip.

His touch is gentle and tender at first. But when he moves on to the center of my palm, he applies more pressure until my whole hand tingles back to life. Noah obviously realized my hand fell asleep, and he’s a PT after all. The gesture isn’t intimate. So why does this feel like the most romantic moment of my life?

A soft moan escapes me, and Link and Hadley turn to look at me simultaneously.

Whoops.

“Great movie,” I say.

“Pins and needles,” Noah explains.

They spend another beat checking us out, their gazes dipping to Dutton asleep on Noah, then Link nods.

“I totally get it.”

“Do you?” Hadley smirks, leaning forward. “Because my shoulders are a little sore.”

Link wags his brows. “Your wish is my command.” He slings an arm over to rub circles on Hadley’s back, and their attention shifts from Noah and me for the rest of the movie.

Hallelujah.

How much did I absorb of the plot by the end? Let’s just say I hope Link doesn’t request a review of his acting. As for Noah, he earned the Oscar for Best Movie Companion in a Leading Role.

Chapter Thirty

Noah

Funny how the word routine gets a bad rap.

We think of routine as meaning sameness, or some kind of stagnation. Boredom, even. And yeah, I don’t love the idea of a career or a relationship becoming routine if that’s the interpretation we’re going with. But in terms of the patterns Jo and I adopt to take care of Dutton, I feel totally different words: Grateful. Settled.

Happy.

Thanks to our now-predictable schedule, we’re able to face the rest of life’s unknowns one day at a time. So Monday’s all about equipment orders for me, playdates with Kendal’s kids for Jo, and Dutton insisting Rex needs a bath after the park if he does.

Tuesday turns into check-ins with Paige’s movers, new campaigns with Inga’s PR team, and rescuing Rex from a harrowing incident with the toilet.

On Wednesday, Paige gets the final go-ahead to travel, I get extra PT sessions with my best residents, and Dutton gets his first bee sting.

Lots of tears, but zero anaphylaxis. So we label this a mixed-results event.

Still, no matter how wild our days get, nighttime means the three of us on the couch after dinner, watching whatever movie Dutton chooses. His taste in films is slightly … routine.

But we make it work.

Speaking of which, I can hardly wait to get back to Jo and Dutton at the end of each day. I drive home giddy, excited to hear about their new adventures. Sometimes Rex is soaking in vinegar, and the toilet’s overflowing, but Jo’s smile is everything.

Dutton’s too.

The truth is, I’ve missed family way more than I realized. And while I’m glad my sister’s finally moving in, I’m also dreading Jo moving out. The borrowed waffle maker will go back to Mr. and Mrs. Michaels, Jo will begin her new job, and my life will return to the way things were before.

Routine.

But tonight is still Thursday, and Jo’s still here, so we’re celebrating what she calls Friday Eve by making homemade pizza. On the side, she serves broccoli with ranch dressing as a dip. When Dutton refuses his veggies, she calls the florets mini cowboy trees, and tells him the dressing is snow in the Montana mountains.

The scheme actually works for a couple of bites, until he spits out the half-chewed mess.