“See you,” I say on a weak voice.
And then Greg helps me hobble to the golf cart waiting to drive us out to the parking lot.
CHAPTER NINE
GREG
My blood had somewhat died down from the raging boil it had been at the stadium.
By the time I got Amanda home and situated on her couch, right ankle elevated on a throw pillow and bag of ice strapped on tight, I was breathing a little easier, relaxing a bit more.
I still felt it simmering under the surface, though — still felt the tenseness in my neck and jaw as I sat on the ground next to the couch, staring at her rapidly swelling ankle.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda.”
“Would you stop it already,” she says with a smile, shoving my shoulder lightly. “I’m fine. It was an accident.”
“An accident I caused,” I refute gruffly.
“You are not the reason I’m clumsier than a one-legged giraffe, okay? I’ve been that way my whole life.”
She smiles again, but I can’t manage the same.
“Besides, Samuel caught me. Crisis averted.” She eyes her ankle. “Mostly, anyway.”
Just the mention of his name makes my heart rate spike, that simmer threatening to boil again. I sniff, rubbing my jaw against the soreness from gritting my teeth all afternoon. “Yeah. Lucky us.”
Amanda rests her head back against the arm of the couch, watching me. “I did have fun today,” she says. “Before the fall.”
I relax a bit at that. “Me, too. I know Asher was happy we were there.”
“I think Asher was mostly happy Meadow was there.”
“Touché.”
Our eyes meet, the familiarity of the old house comforting in the silence. I hear the distant hum of the refrigerator, the birds enjoying the feeder out back, the soft whiz of the cars on the highway not too far away.
Even laid up with an injury, Amanda is a sight to behold. She changed into a baggy pair of navy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt when we got home, after a shower, of course, and with me right outside the door to make sure she didn’t fall or need me.
When she’d walked out, her damp hair soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt and making it easy to see she hadn’t elected to wear a bra underneath it, I’d had to tear my eyes away and mumble an excuse about needing to make a call just to keep myself from sliding my hands under that shirt to investigate the braless situation myself.
I’d made her a late lunch, made her comfortable on the couch, made sure she had everything she needed within reach.
I’d taken care of her.
I loved the feeling of that — of being needed, of being able to help her, to make her feel better.
And now, her eyes relaxed, sleepy smile on her face and damp hair tied into a bun on her head, all I want to do is climb onto the couch with her. I want to slide in behind her, wrap her in my arms and inhale the sweet scent of her shampoo. I want her body aligned with mine, my lips on her neck, her ass pressing against the seam of my shorts…
“Hey, don’t let me ruin your Saturday night,” Amanda says, snapping me from my thoughts. “I’m sure you’ve got places to be. Take the car. I clearly won’t be using it for the rest of the weekend.”
I rub the back of my neck. “There’s a party at Shipwrecked tonight. I was going to see if you wanted to go, but now…”
“Hey, my dance moves would still be sweet — even with a bum ankle.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But with how comfy you look, I have a feeling a costume party at a dive bar isn’t on your radar tonight.”
She sighs. “Sadly, no. But maybe next time. I need to rest up, anyway,” she adds, wincing a little as she adjusts her position. “David and Julia are dropping off little Tucker tomorrow evening.”
“Babysitting, eh?”
“Gladly. Julia has been so afraid to leave him with anyone, they haven’t had a proper date in far too long. I told them both I was forcing them to go out on Halloween. He’s a baby, he doesn’t need to go trick or treating yet. And the next thirteen Halloweens of their lives at least will be consumed with costume management and a sugared-up kid. They deserve one last hurrah.”
I smile, but when she winces again, I hop up to grab a couple Advil out of the medicine cabinet in the half bath downstairs.
“Here,” I say, handing them to her along with a glass of water as I check my watch. “It’s been four hours. You’re ready for more.”
She nods, taking the pills before settling back into the couch.
I watch her for a long moment, knowing there’s no reason for me to stay any longer, but not wanting to leave — especially not with her laid up this way.