I doubt it. I can carry her myself, but before I can say so, he walks over to her and lets her sniff his hand. He pets her head and down the length of her back. Then he hoists her into his arms and carries her up the stairs. She doesn’t complain, and she doesn’t try to bite him.
He lets us into the apartment and sets her down, and then he sits down on the floor and lets her crawl into his lap. “She doesn’t usually like people,” I say.
He smiles. “They can tell when we’re harmless,” he says softly. “Do you want me to find a vet tonight?” he asks.
“I think she’ll be okay until morning, don’t you?” I never know what to do with emergencies. I’ve never had to deal with one all by myself.
“Probably,” he says. He rises to his feet, and I realize how big he really is. He’s at least as tall as Pete, and he’s covered in tattoos just like Pete is, but he’s…different. It’s hard to explain. “Want something to drink?” he asks softly as he goes to the fridge.
I’m wide awake, so I may as well. He brings me a bottle of water, and I see him take a carton of ice cream from the fridge. It’s Rocky Road, my favorite.
“Want some?” he whispers, and he takes out two bowls. He starts to scoop ice cream into them.
“Did we wake you up?” I ask, and I sit down at the table when he hands me a bowl and a spoon.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t sleep well sometimes, so I get up and write.” He shrugs. “It clears my head.”
“What do you write?” I ask.
He shrugs again. “Just journal stuff,” he says. “They had me start doing it when they thought I was going to die.” He chuckles, but it’s a sound with no humor.
I pull the spoon out of my mouth. This really is good ice cream. “You’re better now, right?”
“As far as I know,” he says. “I have to go back next week for tests.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, and he winces as he asks.
“I guess so.”
“What you feel for Pete,” he says, “is it truly affection? Or is it gratitude?”
I choke on my ice cream. It won’t go down. When I finally get through it, I say, “I can’t define it that easily.”
“Try,” he says. “He’s my brother. I’m worried.”
I point the spoon toward my chest. “About me?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “My little brother is in love,” he says. He smiles softly. “I’m happy for him, but I still don’t want to see him get hurt.”
“I don’t want to see that, either.” The ice cream churns in my gut. “We’re still figuring things out.”
He smiles. “Glad to hear it.” He clears his throat. “I’ve seen Pete with a lot of women but never with one he looks at like he looks at you.”
Wow. I don’t know how to respond.
“Just be careful with him, okay?” he says.
A door closes down the hallway, and I hear the rapid slaps of little feet. A tiny blonde stands in the hallway and looks around the corner at me. She’s wearing Tinker Bell pajamas. “Hi,” I say. I look toward Matt, but he just chuckles.
“You’re not supposed to be up,” he says. He motions her forward, and she settles in his lap. “I think she can smell ice cream from a mile away.” He laughs and brushes her hair from her face with gentle fingers.
“Is she yours?” I ask.
He laughs. “She’s Paul’s. She lives here every other week. She was already in bed when you got here.” He bumps his knee under her bottom and says, “Can you tell her what your name is?”
“My name is Hayley,” she says. She licks her lips and looks into his bowl. He heaves a sigh and passes her his spoon but he’s smiling.
“Hayley, this is Reagan. She’s Pete’s girl.”
My heart swells at his words. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
She doesn’t look up from the ice cream until the spoon clanks against the empty bowl.
“You better go back to bed before your daddy sees you’re missing,” he says. He sets her down, and she kisses his cheek quickly. Then she runs back down the hallway and creeps slowly into her room.
“She’s adorable,” I say.
“Adorable is not the right word for Hayley,” he says with a laugh. “She’s five going on fifteen.”
“Do you have any kids?” I ask.
His blue eyes meet mine, and they’re full of sadness. “Kids aren’t in the cards for me. I’d love to have some, but after my treatment, there’s not a very good chance of that.” He brushes his hair back and resecures it with the rubber band. “So, I get to spoil Hayley. Paul would kill me if she knew she was up eating ice cream in the middle of the night.”
I take my bowl and his to the sink and rinse them out. “Thanks for the ice cream. And for helping with Maggie,” I say.
“There’s a lady who was in my chemical trial. She’s dying.” He looks around like he doesn’t know where to settle his eyes. “Her son called today and asked if I wanted to come to see her.”
“Are you going?” I ask.
“I’m too f**king scared to look my mortality in the face,” he says. “That could be me.” He drums his thumb on the table, his palm flat. “I’m a chickenshit. And a terrible friend.” He shakes his head, like a dog shaking water from its fur. If only it were that easy.