Page 89 of Get Me to the Starting Line

“I’m healing.” His voice is gruff. He doesn’t even wince when Levi pulls his hair.

“Healing, not healed.”

“Healed enough.” Those words are so loaded, his eyes darken, and I know we’re walking into dangerous territory again.

“Healed enough to rush Levi to the hospital if he falls and hits his head?” I place my hands on my hips, sticking to the matter at hand. He narrows his eyes and smugness courses through me.

I’ve got him there—he still can’t rush anywhere. He blows out a breath.

He doesn’t get to argue more because Paige and Adam let themselves in. There’s commotion and hugging, Adam twirling Levi around and Paige placing take-out containers on the kitchen counter.

Julien follows me as I make my way to the door after hugging and kissing Levi goodbye.

“Mateo said I can move back to my apartment, and Dr. Sharpe has cleared me.”

The information is a battering ram, slamming into me so hard I lose my breath. I swallow. I knew it was coming with him getting much more mobile. I’m out of time.

“Will you be here when I get back?” I ask, not turning to him.

He doesn’t answer and I don’t push it. I head back to the lab, my head spinning with excitement over the progress with my prototype, and my heart breaking with the idea of Julien leaving my life.

Isabelstaresatmein an open-mouthed gape. “What did you say?”

“What could I say?” I take a big swing, missing the baseball flying at my face and smashing into the netting behind me.

When Paige moved to Vancouver without me, I made sure we’d still be able to bond by planning weekly Sunday outings for us. Let me tell you, planning cross-country activities was no easy feat.

Good thing I’m amazing at planning.

Since I moved here, we’ve kept up the tradition, dragging Isabel and Dana along with us every once in a while. Paige and Dana are currently laughing at my athletic deficits while Isabel simply will not let the topic of Julien drop.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe something like, ‘Live with me permanently and please fuck me right here, right now,’” she practically yells, undeterred by the noise of the surrounding batting cages.

Another swing and a miss as I choke on my surprise.

“We’re going to fail the Bechdel test,” I mutter under my breath as I leave the cage, handing the bat to Dana.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic.” Isabel sighs like her life depends on it. Paige and I share a look. Isabel catches it, shoving us.

Dana swings, and there’s a loud crack as the ball goes flying. Girl can hit a ball. Must be because she’s so used to busting Liam’s balls.

Adam’s oldest brother is a piece of work, and I have no idea how Dana puts up with him. But I guess I shouldn’t judge. Tons of people think Julien is a jackass. Not that Julien is my husband.

We hoot and holler as Dana hits ball after ball, never missing.

“Damn, girl!” Paige high-fives her as they trade places.

I feel vindicated when Paige’s first swing misses.

“How’s the running going?” Dana asks. I like Dana. She’s quiet and observant where Isabel and Paige are loud and boisterous. It’s nice to have her calming presence around.

“It’s good. I think I’ll be ready for the stag and doe.”

“That’s great!” Isabel chimes in.

“And the planning?” Dana has offered to help so many times, but I feel guilty she can’t come with us even though she wants to. With the baby unwilling to take a bottle at home, she can’t be away that long.

“It’s going well. I booked the tickets to the shows last night.” My grin is wicked as Dana rolls her eyes. Isabel has the opposite reaction, clapping her hands and giggling.

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