Several bridal magazines litter the table, and every so often, Mom circles something on the page with a Sharpie. She’s been looking into wedding gown boutiques and found one in Boston. She plans to visit soon to look at what they have in stock.
“Are you going to invite Emily and William to the wedding?” I ask.
Mom’s eyes widen. “Uh . . .” Her eyes move to Christopher, then back to me. “I hadn’t thought about telling them. Maybe I should?”
Leaning away from the table, she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, her forehead creasing.
Christopher covers her hand with his. “Whatever you decide, darling.”
“I agree, Mom.” I stand and hug her before rounding the table and doing the same with Christopher. “I have to go. I don’t want to be stuck in traffic later.”
“Do you have everything? I deposited some cash in your account a few days ago.”
“You didn’t have to. You two need to save money for the wedding.”
Christopher stands and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t worry about the wedding, kiddo. Your mother and I have it all sorted out.” He walks over to the counter to refill his coffee, and I turn to face my mother.
“You are my favorite mama. Ever.”
“And you are a pain in my ass. Why didn’t you tell me you needed money?” Before I can ask how she knew, she says, “I saw the bank statement on your desk when I went in your room to grab clothes for you to wear after the accident.”
I shrug. “I didn’t want to worry you. I plan on starting work at the bookstore on campus again. I figured I had enough to last me until my next paycheck.”
“Why don’t you let me be the parent, and worry about things like making sure my child can eat while she’s getting an education. And I don’t mean twenty-five cent ramen noodles either.”
“Alright, point taken. I’m sorry. Email me the list of what you need taken care of once you finish compiling it,” I tell her, then head to my room.
Ten minutes later, I tell them I’ll see them next weekend, and finally leave. When I get to my car, I toss my bag onto the back seat, then hop into the driver’s seat and head downtown to meet Sol.
He’s sitting on a bench just outside the building when I pull up. Tugging the cap on his head low on his forehead, he looks up and shoots me a warm grin that has my stomach fluttering.
Grabbing the crutches, he heaves his body to stand, but I wave at him to stop, then hop out of the car and walk over.
The door to the rehabilitation center opens. My steps falter when his physical therapist walks out and heads straight to where he is sitting. She stops in front of him. Sol’s eyes leave mine, and he looks up at Finley. Immediately, I feel cold, and the flutters in my stomach cease, replaced by a burning sensation.
After chatting for several seconds, Finley hands him a small piece of paper, then puts a hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
“Hey,” I greet, halting next to Sol and glancing back and forth between them.
His gaze cuts to me. “Hey, you.” He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, just holds my gaze as if he’s memorizing my features.
“Session went well?” I ask.
Finley nods, sending Sol a proud smile. “Pretty good. If he keeps it up he’ll be walking in no time.”
“If you keep pushing me like you did in there”—Sol jerks his thumb toward the building—“I’ll be doing a marathon sooner rather than later.”
They exchange a grin. I breathe through the jealousy burning through me.
“Okay. See you on Monday. Don’t forget to do those exercises I showed you at home,” she says.
He nods. “Will do, thanks.”
“Oh!” Finley snaps her fingers. “I’ll be sure to give you a call when I hear from my friend.”
“Sounds good.”
Finley leaves, heading to the parking lot, and my eyes trail her, my stomach churning with jealousy.
When I return my attention to Sol, I find him smiling big
Great. Now he’s smiling, looking all happy. I think I’m going to be sick.
Trying to extinguish the raging inferno burning inside me, I take a deep cleansing breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth, then clear my throat and avert my gaze from his to get my shit together.
Suddenly, I remember Luke is supposed to pick him up. “Luke?” I ask.
“He’s running a little late. Come sit down for a bit.”
I shake my head. “I can’t stay long. And I don’t want your uncle finding me here.” I point at the paper in his hand, the one Finley gave him, trying my best to keep my voice normal. “What’s that?”
He looks down at his hand as if he’d forgotten about it. “Just a few alternative homeopathic medicine recommendations for pain. Finley recommended them. I want to cut back on taking opioids and only take them in the evening.”
My jealousy eases a bit. “Oh.” Still feeling a bit on edge but trying not to show it, I shift my weight on one side of my leg, jutting my hip a bit, while rubbing at my neck. “What was that about?”
Smooth Miller, real smooth.
Sol frowns. “Wha—Oh, that? Finley is going to hook me up with one of her friends.”
Yup, I’m literally going to hurl. I start searching for the nearest trash can I can stick my head into.
“For school. Grace. The dean at Pinecrest is the dad of one of her friends. She’s helping me out. Are you okay? You look a little . . . are you feeling sick?”
Jeez. Calm down, Grace.
“My stomach feels weird,” I lie. His brows dip in concern. “Probably just nerves. I just don’t want to be late getting on the road.”
His mouth curls up, and I can’t help but smile back. In this position, with him sitting down and me standing, I’m slightly taller than him, giving me the advantage.
Shuffling closer, I reach for his cap and tug it up so I can see his eyes. “Are you in a lot of pain right now?”
“Yeah. I caved and took a pill inside.” His phone pings with a text alert. He pulls it out of his pocket and checks his messages, then looks up at me. “Luke will be here in about seven minutes.”
Shit. I need to go.
He must sense my nervousness. Placing his hands on either side of my hips, he says, “I don’t want you to go. Text me when you get there? Just so I can breathe easy.”
“Of course.” I move closer, standing between his legs, and rest my hands on his shoulders. It takes every ounce of willpower in me not to reach for his face and smooth away the frown marring his beautiful face.
Sol’s large hands move up from my hip behind my coat and frame the small of my back. I swallow to keep from shaking. I feel too much. “Seeing you every day has spoiled me, Gracie. I’m going to miss you. So much.”
“Me too.” More than you know. “We’ll talk and video chat, at least.”
“Not the same,” he says. In his eyes, I see something in his blue depths. Something intense. My heart begins to race in my chest, and my mouth goes dry. I swallow to keep from choking.
“I’ll come home on the weekends to help my mom with the wedding arrangements.”
His lips hitch to one side, giving me my favorite smile. Ever. “Yeah?”