Page 18 of The Comeback

“Perfect.” She grabs my arm and loops hers through mine. It’s like walking next to a livewire. She has more energy than anyone I’ve ever met. “I figured you’d be a fan. My brothers love this place. They could eat two cartons of eggs and a box of pancakes on a Saturday morning when we were kids.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Three. You know Knox. He’s older than me. The other two are Ace and Hayden, the twins. They’re in college in Columbia and are two years younger than I am.”

We wait at the stoplight for the walking sign to light up. Three brothers. No wonder she has so much energy. They were probably a lot to keep up with.

After the light switches, she steps off the sidewalk. “They’re finishing their degrees in the spring and going into the draft.”

A car zips into the intersection. Fuck. I grab her by the waist and haul her to my side, barely giving the vehicle space to get by without clipping her.

My hearts thuds in my throat as I glare at the driver. He slams on the brakes, drops his cellphone into the passenger seat, and looks away sheepishly.

“Son of a bitch. Distracted drivers are no better than drunk drivers.” I run my hands up and down her body as she stands, opening and closing her mouth, yet no sounds come out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She nods finally, appearing to get her wits about her. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” She jumps up and wraps her arms around my neck again. Only this time, her body convulses from fear and relief. “That car came out of nowhere, right?”

“Yes.” I rub her back in slow circles. “He didn’t stop at the red light. When he looked up, he was on his cellphone.”

“Lord.” She shutters and slowly inches backward. “I’ve had enough rehab in my life. I don’t want to go through that again.”

I stroke my thumb over her cheekbone. I don’t want that for her either. I’ve had more than enough myself between mine and my sister’s therapy sessions. “I hear that loud and clear.”

The traffic continues to stop and go on the street beside us, but all I see is her. My gaze drops to her lips. I want to kiss her, but I can’t. She’s not looking for a football player, and my life is football, as long as I can keep my head in the game.

I drop my arms to my sides. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

She nods and waits for the light to change again. Even then, she doesn’t move to cross the street until I grab her hand and tug. This time, I’m watching in every direction. Even the ones that aren’t supposed to be going. “Come on. I’ve got you. I’ll be a big ass bump they’ll have to get over to get to you.”

Her laughter is weak, but it’s there. The first sign that she’s starting to come out of the shock of almost getting run over. The vision of her lying broken and bloody on the ground invades my brain and won’t let go.

Several minutes later, we’re seated across from each other in a booth at a quaint café next to a bakery. The scent of baked goods and frosting permeates the building, almost overpowering the smell of pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns.

“They have enormous cinnamon rolls.” She grabs the menu and shifts back to the normal bundle of energy that I’m growing accustomed to. “What do you like to eat for breakfast?”

I scan the menu, and my stomach growls. How long has it been since my mom cooked? Hell, has she cooked since Piper’s injury? Why didn’t I realize that? The stress of trying to get Piper through rehab and then dealing with her depression has taken a bigger toll than I thought.

“I’ll take the breakfast platter.”

“I think I’ll stick with eggs and two slices of bacon.” She drops the menu onto the table. “Unlike you, I have to watch what I eat.”

“You’re perfect.” The words are out of my mouth before I can take them back.

A pink flush settles over her cheeks. “Thank you. But I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” She shrugs. “If I don’t count calories, I’ll gain five pounds in a day.”

I’m saved from sticking my fat foot farther into my mouth by the waitress coming to take our order. Placing her in the friend zone was easy. Keeping her there is going to be an issue.

“Tell me about your mom and sister. Dani, Gunner’s wife, said they followed you here.”

“Yes.” I rest my forearms on the tabletop and then lace my fingers together. It seems like the safest thing to do with them. “My sister was hit by a drunk driver six months ago while riding her bicycle. She broke her pelvis and has struggled with rehab. Physically, she’s doing okay, but she’s withdrawn and depressed.” I slump into the seat. Talking about my sister is hard. I want her life to be full of sunshine and happiness. But those days are long gone. “She won’t go back to in-person school, and she’s dropped all her friends. Basically, she wears black, stares into space, and never leaves her room.”

She clutches her chest. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” The compassion in her eyes is like a flashing neon sign. I’m not sure why I ever thought she was cold. “What’s her prognosis?”

“Physically? She can return to physical activity at any time, but since she was discharged by her therapist, she’s done nothing. I don’t know if she can return to full-contact sports, but she can do more than she’s doing.”

“Does she have nightmares?” She places her hand over mine, and it feels right. I turn mine over and lace our fingers together.

“I don’t know. My mom has never said.”

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