Chapter 15 VINCE #2
I nearly laugh. She pats me on the back before dashing away.
Fletcher is here, focused on work. They’re finishing up the men’s bathroom.
He drifts in and out all afternoon. From the line between his brows, he’s deep in concentration.
Every time he passes, though, there’s this quiet awareness between us, like we’re tuned to the same frequency.
He doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He doesn’t touch me unless it’s natural—his fingers brushing my wrist when he slips past, a brief squeeze of my shoulder when no one’s looking.
It helps more than he probably knows.
He stops on his way out. “Heading home. Need anything before I go?”
Can I get a kiss? “I’m fine.”
He snorts. “How’d I know that was going to be your answer?”
I chuckle.
“See you at home, okay? Oh! Georgie will be there so—”
“No sneaking into your room. Got it.”
Fletcher shoves both hands into his pockets. “Actually, that’s not what I was going to say. She’s been really worried about you, so she wants to have a late dinner of pizza and popcorn when you get home. I told her I’d run it by you first.”
I shrug. “Sounds fun.”
He grins. “Yeah?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. You’re off at ten, right?”
I nod.
“I’ll have it delivered then. See you tonight.”
Before he walks away, I snag his wrist and pull him back, kissing him on the lips. He seems surprised, yet his eyes light up.
He waves. “Bye, hon.”
My heart is light as he walks away. Fletcher surprised me today. He could’ve pestered me about taking my meds or eating enough food. But he didn’t. He’d checked in a few times, but nothing too pushy or over the top—just enough to show that he’s still worried. He trusted me to take care of myself.
And that means just as much as if he had checked in too much.
The hours slip by quickly. It’s Poetry Night, which means it’s the busiest night of the month. Holden, Hattie, and Korie come in with their usual crowd, dressed up for the affair.
My heart skips a beat when Korie stops in front of me.
“It’s really good to see you,” they say.
That’s it. That’s the only acknowledgment of seeing me outside of the hospital.
Holden seems confused by Korie’s comment, like he doesn’t know about my fall. Korie must not have told him.
I exhale sharply. “You too.”
There are moments all night, of course—small, sharp ones—where my body reminds me things are different.
A twinge in my calf. A flicker of imbalance when I turn too fast. Each time, I pause and steady myself on something, then let it pass.
But to my surprise, the pain is not as debilitating. The stool helps.
It’s the easiest shift I’ve had since I started here.
River takes my place at ten, ready to close for the night. He squeezes my shoulder a little too tight before I clock out. I still don’t know if I like the guy.
My feet ache and I’m exhausted, but it’s the good exhausted—the kind that comes from work, and not fighting too hard to look normal. It’s a relief to have people know, and an even bigger one to be treated the same.
Declan waves at me before I leave, and when I get to the house, Georgie runs out to greet me, quickly followed by Bones.
She gives me a quick hug as soon as I’m out of the car. “I’m glad you’re okay! Dad told me all about what happened. Did he tell you I had to stay at the hospital once too?”
“No?”
“I did, for two nights. My appendix got swollen or something. I don’t know. I was pretty young. But I don’t like hospitals at all. They scare me.”
Me too, kiddo. Me too.
“He’s popping some popcorn right now, and the pizza should be here any minute. I thought instead of a movie, we could play Mario Kart?”
I blink at her. She’s tried so many times to get me to play, and I keep putting it off. “If there’s one thing I’m not good at, it’s video games.”
Georgie grins. “Good. I like winning.”
I laugh ruefully. “Oh, I see. Not even going to give the sick guy a break, huh?”
“Dad says you’re not actually sick. Your nerves are just being jerks and making it feel like you’re on fire or something. Which, honestly, sounds worse.”
I nearly stumble. “Yeah, it kind of is.”
“What do you say, though? Yes to Mario Kart?”
She’ll just keep asking until I cave. “Sure.”
She opens the back door, and Fletcher smiles at me as we step through, his blue eyes quickly scanning me for any sign of pain.
Georgie rushes off to power up the game, while I greet Fletcher.
“How’d your night go?”
“Fine.”
His lips quirk and he chuckles, but I see the worry behind them.
“No, really. It was… okay.”
He softens. “Good.”
He grabs the bowls of popcorn, and we head to the living room.
Georgie gives me a crash course on the game while we wait for the pizza.
But as soon as the first race starts, I forget everything.
My kart stalls at the starting line, and when I finally get it moving, I careen off the track and smash into a wall so hard the kart spins in a slow, humiliating circle.
“Oh, come on,” I mutter.
Georgie cackles. “You’re supposed to avoid the walls.”
“It attacked me!”
Fletcher laughs, taking his eyes off the track just long enough to grin at me. When he looks back, he crashes into a mushroom-looking thing crossing the road. “Dammit.”
By the third race, I’m finding my groove. Georgie might have put the road bumpers and auto acceleration on for me, but hey—at least I’m staying on course.
Fletcher is absolutely ruthless with his daughter—throwing red shells, banana peels, and boomerangs like they’re nobody’s business.
“Isn’t hitting your child considered child abuse?” I tease.
“Yes!” Georgie hollers.
Fletcher just laughs and tosses a red shell at me instead.
I nudge his shoulder. “Rude.”
For a while, everything else fades. There are no doctors or past lovers showing up unannounced. No unspoken questions hovering between Fletcher and me like fragile glass. No awkward knowing stares from people who see too much.
It’s just the three of us on a couch, arguing over shortcuts and shouting playful jabs.
It’s what I’d needed.
But too soon my hands catch up to the fun and tingles take over until I can no longer feel the buttons. I push through one more race, and Georgie wins.
“You did better than I did the first time I played,” Fletcher says.
“Mm-hmm. It’s a low bar, but I’ll take it.” I don’t tell him about my hands. It’s just a game.
He smiles at me. “I’ll clean up.”
I say nothing, getting up to follow him into the kitchen. We linger around like two teenagers begging for five more minutes together while Georgie putters around in the living room.
“Can I walk you out?”
We take the path slowly, and when we reach the house, Fletcher follows me inside. The air is stale after three nights of no one living in it. He flips the fan on, then turns to face me.
“I wish you could stay in my bed again.”
I pull him closer. “Me too.”
He kisses me. “Especially since we didn’t even do anything when we had the chance. What were we thinking!” His tone is light, teasing.
I raise a brow. “We’re alone now.”
“No, I can’t.”
“I know.”
“Soon, though.” He kisses me deeply. “Very soon.”
Before the kiss can get heated, he pulls away and turns back around to the door. “Night, Vince.”
“Night.”