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.
“Want me to help tomorrow night?”
Amanda blanches, setting her water on the table next to the couch with an incredulous laugh. “God, no. Babysitting on Halloween?” She shakes her head. “That’s a grandma’s job — not a hot, single, thirty-four-year-old’s.”
I smirk. “You think I’m hot?”
“I already told you that when you put me under,” she says, waving me off. “Not a surprise anymore.”
I chuckle, then sit on the edge of the couch, my hip brushing against her thigh. “I don’t have plans, and I’m not on call this weekend. I’d love to help.”
“Stop. You’re young. You should be going out, partying, living it up.”
“I’m not that young.”
She scoffs.
“Amanda, come on. Look at you,” I say, gesturing to her foot propped up on the pillow. “You’re not exactly very mobile right now. Just let me help. Besides, we can check off another list item.”
She arches a brow.
“Movie night, remember? We can make it a scary movie double feature.”
Amanda sighs, looking at her ankle and then back at me. “Are you sure you want to waste your holiday with a crippled grandma and a screaming baby?”
“It won’t be a waste at all,” I say sincerely. And before she can change her mind or argue further, I stand. “I’ll bring popcorn and a bag of the best Halloween candy.”
“Music to my ears,” she says.
“Do you want a glass of wine or anything before I go?” I ask, gathering my things.
“I’m fine,” she says, but I see the way she’s biting her lip, holding back something she wants to say.
I pause. “What?”
“It’s just… tomorrow, can you wait to come over until I text you?”
I frown.
“I can let you know when David and Julia leave. And you should probably go before they get back.”
She says the words sheepishly, and I swallow down the way hearing them stings.
“Is that really necessary?”
She levels her gaze then. “Do you want to be the one to tell David that his best friend is hanging out with his mom on Halloween. Alone?”
I tongue my cheek, trying to imagine how that scenario would play out.
None of the possibilities strike me as appealing.
Even though David and I aren’t what I’d call best friends anymore, we used to be. Hell, we used to be like brothers, and we’re just now getting reconnected. I try to imagine it in the reverse, imagine my mom divorced and him hanging out alone with her.
It just doesn’t feel the same, though.
With Amanda, it’s different. She’s young, funny, beautiful, and has been through more hell in her short life than anyone deserves.
Still, my mouth pulls to the side, because regardless of how I see it, to David?
Amanda is his mom — plain and simple.
“Didn’t think so,” she says on a smile. Then, a shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “It’s fine. We’ll tell him. Eventually.”
I nod, but can’t stop myself from wondering tell him what, exactly?
“Get some rest,” I say instead, tucking my wallet into my pocket.
And then with a quick smile, I force myself to leave, all the while shoving down the voice inside that’s screaming for me to stay.
AMANDA
“We won’t be too late,” Julia promises again the next night, wiping at something on Tucker’s cheek. Tucker makes a face and pushes her hand away, curling more into my arms.