I feel the urge to grin, but I keep it restrained. We’ve been hovering in this new space for a while without naming it. The chemistry between us has changed, but neither of us has said the words out loud, like we’re afraid the sound will collapse something.
Before I can say anything else, Pops’s voice calls again from the hallway, sharper.
“Slooooane!”
Her jaw tightens. “He’s impatient today.”
“I mean, he isyourdad.”
That earns me a glare, and I can’t help but snicker. Moving closer, I kiss her quickly, which isn’t nearly enough, so I step farther into her and kiss her again.
She pushes me off after a second. “We do not have time for this right now, Brooks.”
I hold my hands up slightly in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
She breathes through her nose, a slight blush on her cheeks, then turns and heads toward the hallway, footsteps quick like she’s outrunning the emotion that tried to rise.
I follow at a slower pace.
Pops is in the living room in the hospital bed with the blinds half-open, sunlight striping the bedspread. He’s propped up with pillows, thinner than he should be, even though we’ve all been trying to get calories into him like food is a bargaining chip. His features have softened lately—there’s a slackness around his mouth, a heaviness in his eyelids. His left side still isn’t right, his arm resting awkwardly on top of the blanket.
But the second he sees Sloane, his expression shifts into something mischievous, causing my brows to pinch.
“There you are,” he says. “I’m starving.”
Sloane lifts a brow. “You ate soup an hour ago.”
“That was a tragic experience,” Pops replies. “I deserve redemption.”
I hover by the doorway, watching them, feeling that familiar squeeze in my chest—the one that comes when you see how much love can exist inside such a small room.
Sloane crosses her arms, but the grin taking over her face ruins her facade. “What do you want?”
Pops doesn’t even hesitate. “Thai food.”
Sloane blinks, stunned. “Thai food?”
Pops nods like it’s the most reasonable request on earth. “Yes. And before you start—no, I won’t eat your sad chicken and rice. I want pad see ew. And those little crispy spring rolls. And extra peanut sauce.”
Sloane stares at him like she’s deciding whether to laugh or cry.
“You’ve never ordered Thai in your life,” she says finally.
Pops’s mouth twitches. “That’s because I’ve lived a sheltered existence. I’m expanding my horizons.”
I can’t help it. I laugh.
Pops’s eyes slide to me. “Don’t laugh at me, kid. You’re the one who convinced me to try sushi and then fed me raw fish like a psychopath.”
“That was Cameron,” I say immediately.
Pops looks unimpressed. “You two are the same brand of trouble.”
Sloane exhales, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “You want Thai? Fine. I’ll go get Thai.”
Pops lifts a finger. “From the good place.”
“There’s only one place,” she says.
