“Hi.”
I hesitated a moment, then leaned in. Our lips met in a soft kiss, and somehow, even that brief moment of connection was enough to release some tension from my shoulders. “Come on in. They’re all waiting for you.”
“You mean the firing squad?” As soon as he said it, he cringed. “Sorry, that was?—”
“It’s fine. We make jokes like that all the time.”
I pulled Heath into the kitchen, where everyone had taken a spot around our big kitchen table.
“We don’t usually shoot people right away. We prefer to wait to see if they actually deserve it,” Nash dryly commented. “It’s good to see you again, Heath.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I hid my grin.
“Nash. It’s proven hard enough to get these knuckleheads to call me by my first name, so don’t you start too.”
Heath chuckled. “Duly noted. And thanks for not shooting me on the spot. It’s much appreciated.”
“These are my two other roommates, Bean and Tameron,” I said.
Both got up to shake Heath’s hand.
“Bean cooked tonight, so any complaints about the food can be taken up with him,” Tameron said.
“Just be glad Tam didn’t cook one of his famous curries, or your shit would burn for a week,” Bean fired back.
I rolled my eyes. So much for making a good impression. But when I looked at Heath, he was laughing.
We took our spots, Heath sitting to my right, and Bean got up to serve. “I made spaghetti with meatballs. Would you like some?” he asked Heath.
Wow, look at that. The kid actually had manners when he wanted to.
“That sounds yummy, thank you.”
Compared to his other dishes, this was one of Bean’s better recipes. He liked to experiment with strange spices and had once managed to combine orange chicken with cinnamon. Awful was too mild a word for what that concoction had tasted like.
“Creek said you’re a PE teacher?” Nash asked.
Thank fuck someone had manners, although one could argue I could’ve started a conversation as well. Why the hell was I so nervous? I’d never felt like this before. I not only wanted the boys to like Heath, but I needed them to. Their opinion had never mattered more.
“I love it,” Heath said, his eyes lighting up. “Not always because those teens can be a handful and then some, but they’re also wonderfully open and in your face. I somehow managed to wear my shirt inside out the other day, and within thirty seconds of entering the school, five kids had pointed it out to me.”
“And your boss didn’t have an issue with you getting back to your job after your accident?” Bean gestured at Heath’s prosthesis.
“Nah, she was fine. I warned her I wouldn’t be able to join or demonstrate exercises for a while, but she never made an issue out of it.”
Bean thumbed at me. “You’re way ahead of our man here in your recovery, by the way. Much to his dismay.”
Tameron snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. He was furious after meeting you because you were better than him. Creek doesn’t like to lose.”
I groaned. “Really? You gotta sell me out like that? The whole idea is for him to like me, you assholes.”
“He should know what he’s getting into,” Tameron said. “Creek is a grumpy motherf?—”
“If I were you, I’d think twice about finishing that sentence,” Nash said with that unmistakable authority in his tone. “Jesus, it’s like policing a bunch of teenagers.”
Heath chuckled. “Sure sounds like it. And no worries, Tameron, I know he’s grumpy. I even have him as Sergeant Grumpy in my phone.”
