Rowdy nods. “There you go, buddy. That’s what I call growth.”
He gives me a half-assed salute and heads out the door.
Upstairs, Pascal is curled up on the bed, with his head resting on Maddie’s feet.
I walk over and give him a pet. “Good boy.”
I resolve to cook him a giant burger while Maddie sleeps.
Chapter
Eight
Maddie
When I wake up, it’s late afternoon, and Ewan is still here. One thing is different, though. He washed his hair and changed into clean pajama pants and a clean T-shirt. And he’s in my bed.
“How long was I asleep?”
He shrugs. “Long enough that I was starting to worry if I should wake you up to eat and take your flu meds.”
Slowly, I sit up in the bed and notice the tray next to me on the nightstand.
“I don’t know if I can eat anything. I still feel like shit.”
He picks up the remote and clicks on the TV. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”
I’m so full of post-nasal drip that the thought of food makes me nauseous, but then I taste the soup, my attitude fixes itself instantaneously. I’m ravenous, and the soup is delicious. “When did you learn how to cook?”
“It’s either that or eat frozen divorced-guy dinners, and that was never an option for me. I figured it out. Which Housewives do you want to watch?”
“I don’t have satellite or streaming. I don’t have time to watch TV, so I cancelled everything,” I say.
His eyes on the TV, Ewan is scrolling through all the apps. “You didn’t answer the question. Scary Island, here we go.”
“I don’t have…wait a minute. I could have sworn I cancelled that…”
He turns on my all-time favorite episodes of New York and gestures for me to keep eating the soup. “You must have a free trial or something.”
That can’t be right. “But if they have my credit card information, now I have to re-cancel at the end of the month.”
Ewan blows out a breath. “Fine. I signed you into my account. For all the streaming services.”
I look at him, the soup spoon halfway to my mouth. “You didn’t have to. But thank you.”
He shrugs. “You need something to stare at while you rest and recover.”
My ex-husband is here. Using my shower and evidently brought an overnight bag, though I don’t see evidence of it anywhere in my room when I scan the space.
I guess we’ll discuss that later.
For now, I appreciate him feeding me and giving me his streaming passwords.
But instead of staring at the TV, I stare at his profile while I take a bite of crusty, buttered toast. I smile as I notice more little things. The tiny hairs on the backs of his hands and fingers are more prominent now. His ears look a little different. The throat, the forearms, the hands all look more, well, grown. He always was lean and muscular when we were together, but now Ewan has filled out differently. The spot where I used to lay my head, right at the collarbone, looks like it could belong to someone else. Not in a bad way, just different.
Ewan was always hot, but he grew up even hotter.
Something flutters in my lower belly.
