Chapter 15
Heather
You saved both of you.
Grant’s words hit me hard, making my throat close up even as the tightness in my chest finally loosens a little.
I turn to look at him—to really look at him—as we sit at the red light just a few blocks from April’s school. There wasn’t a trace of flattery or insincerity in his tone, and his expression is still as solid and reassuring as always.
He meant each one of those words, and he makes me feel seen and heard and safe in a way that I haven’t felt in way too long. Not since before I got messed up with my ex, at the very least.
“Thank you,” is the best I can do for now. “For saying that. And for seeing me that way.”
His eyes meet mine, and the shift in the air between us is so sudden and intense that the next breath I draw in is more of a shudder.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he says.
My eyes drop to his lips, just for half a second, and I remember exactly how they felt against mine that night in the bathtub. The memory makes my cheeks instantly flush with heat, and I wonder if he can tell what I’m thinking about.
Judging by the hungry, hot flare in his eyes, I’m pretty sure he’s experiencing the exact same flashback.
The light turns green and Grant has to focus on the road again, giving me a chance to get myself together in these last few minutes before April joins us.
We’ve barely taken our place in the pick-up line when she comes racing out of the building. There’s a big smile on her face and she seems full of her usual after-school energy, with her backpack bouncing from side to side as she turns and waves goodbye to a teacher.
I’d never know from seeing her like this that she’s going through a rough time and struggling to make friends.
“Mom!” She climbs into the backseat of the extended cab and looks around in wonder, like she’s never seen Grant’s vehicle before. “Grant! Why are both of you here to pick me up? Are we going somewhere fun?”
“We’re just going home, sweetheart.” I turn in my seat to face her as we pull away from the curb. “My car broke down, so Grant came to rescue me from the side of the road.”
“Like a knight in shining armor,” April says, grinning at Grant in the rearview mirror. “That’s so cool. Was Mom’s car smoking and everything?”
Grant chuckles, and it’s one of those small but unexpected and genuine laughs that never fails to make my stomach do that fluttery thing. That thing that seems to be happening more and more lately, but only around him.
“There was some smoke, yeah,” he says. “And some pretty impressive engine noises.”
“Awesome. I mean, not awesome that it broke, but awesome that you came to save the day.” She turns her attention back to me. “How long until it’s fixed?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I try and fail to stifle a grimace when I think about how much the repair bill is likely to be. “We’ll have to wait and see what the mechanic says.”
Seemingly satisfied with those answers, April launches into her usual detailed recap of the day. She tells us about a pop quiz in math that she thinks she aced, a funny story one of her classmates told at lunch, and how her teacher said she gave one of the best book reports in the class yesterday.
As I listen to her chatter, I realize this might be the perfect opening to bring up some of the suggestions from my meeting with her teacher and the principal today.
“You know what, sweetheart?” I begin during a brief pause in her monologue. “Your teacher and the principal had some fun ideas about ways you might connect with some of the other kids at school.”
Her face scrunches up a little, and I can tell she’s immediately doubting my definition of “fun.”
“Like what kind of ideas?”
“Well, they have something called a peer buddy program, where they pair new students with kids who have been at the school for a while. And there’s also an after-school reading club that might be perfect for someone who just wrote an excellent book report.”
I keep my tone light, but I’m watching her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. She doesn’t look entirely resistant, so I’m taking that as a good sign for now.
“Would I have to do both?” she asks.
“Only if you want to. We could try one and see how it goes. Or neither, if you’re not interested. But I think they sound like they might be fun.”
Grant catches my eye and gives me a tiny nod of encouragement. It’s a small gesture, but it helps.
“The reading club sounds kinda cool,” April says. “Do you think there will be other kids who like the same books I do?”
“I think that’s exactly the point.” I offer a tentative smile, genuinely happy that she seems to be warming up to the idea. “You would get to meet kids who love reading as much as you do.”
“And maybe some of them will know about hockey, too!”
This time, Grant chimes in. “There will probably be at least a few hockey fans in a Denver elementary school. Especially kids who are smart enough to be in a reading club.”
April thinks it over for a few more seconds, then nods. “Okay. I want to try the reading club. When does it start?”
“I can call your teacher tomorrow and find out all the details.” I reach back and give her hand a squeeze. “I’m proud of you for being so open to trying something new.”
“Thanks, Mom. And thanks for not making me do the buddy thing right away. I kind of want to see if I can make friends on my own first, you know?”
“That makes perfect sense, sweetheart.”
By the time we pull into Grant’s driveway, I’m feeling better than I have in weeks.
My car is still broken down and my daughter is still having a hard time at school, but progress is being made.
April is willing to put herself out there, and that’s a big win.
And today has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have someone in my corner, always ready to back me up.
Steady, supportive Grant. I don’t know how or why he’s so consistently amazing, but I’m not questioning it today.
I’m just appreciative, and I’m not going to feel bad for accepting his help this time.
We’re barely through the front door when Grant checks his watch and grimaces. “I need to get going soon. We have a game tonight, and I still need to change clothes and grab my gear before I head to the arena.”
The reminder that he dropped everything to come rescue me hits me all over again. He didn’t just leave practice early. He completely rearranged his game day routine, which I know by now is practically sacred to him.
“Grant, I can’t thank you enough for today. For coming to get me and helping to figure out what was wrong with my car, then taking me to pick up April from school… it was above and beyond anything I could have hoped for.”
He stops in the middle of pulling his keys from his pocket and looks at me with that serious, intense expression that makes my heart do a slow roll in my chest.
“I appreciate the thanks, but it was my pleasure to help out where I could.”
“I just know how important your schedule is, and I’m sorry I messed it up.”
He frowns. “You didn’t mess anything up. When I said I was here for you anytime you need a hand, I meant it.” So quietly that I almost miss it, he adds, “Always.”
I freeze, not sure what else I can say to make him realize how much today meant to me. He isn’t just a good temporary landlord or even just a good friend. There’s something more here, something between us that’s real and deep.
“Mom, can I have a snack?” April’s voice cuts through the silence, startling both of us back to the present moment.
“Something small for now, sweetheart,” I say, pushing all my other thoughts to the side. “How about a banana or an apple for now, and I’ll get dinner started after I change clothes?”
“Okay!”
She skips off toward the kitchen, and when I turn back to Grant, he’s already moving toward the stairs.
“I really do need to change clothes and get to the arena,” he says, but there’s an undercurrent between us, a little frisson in the air, that tells me he felt that moment too. “Good luck with the reading club information tomorrow.”
“Thanks. And good luck with your game tonight. We’ll be watching.”
He nods and takes the stairs two at a time while I throw myself into my own nightly routine of dinner prep and homework help.
As soon as April sees me, she sets her half-eaten apple aside and starts chattering about the reading club, wondering aloud about what books they might read and discuss, and whether any of the other kids will share her love of adventure stories.
I’m doing my best to pay full attention and stay engaged, but my mind keeps drifting back to Grant and that moment we shared in the truck. The way he looked at me in the foyer. The way he said “always,” like he truly meant it.
I don’t have time to process these thoughts or how I feel about them, so I shove them back down for now.
By the time I’ve gotten April fed, bathed, and tucked into bed with her latest book, I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. The day has been a rollercoaster, from the stress of the meeting at school to the panic of my broken-down car, to the conflicting, confusing feelings that I have for Grant.
I change into my pajamas and crawl into bed, then turn on the TV before pulling the covers up to my chin. I might not have the comfort of knowing Grant is just a few doors down, but at least I can watch him do the thing he loves for a little while before I drift off to sleep.
The Aces game has already started and both teams have scored a point. According to the stats that are scrolling across the bottom of my screen, Grant has made eight saves so far.
Because of course he has. The camera pans to his goal and he looks focused and controlled and completely in charge. It’s hard for a moment to reconcile that gruff, intimidating athlete with the man who learned to sew just to help with April’s clothes.