He’d said it like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal to loan your bed to a past lover.
He’d said it like it wouldn’t rearrange something inside my chest.
I draw in yet another slow breath, trying to stay calm.
“But wait—where areyoustaying, then?” Ace says.
Vince glances at me. “With Fletcher.”
Ace whistles, grinning wide. “Is that right? Shacking up already?”
Vince rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an ass.”
But he doesn’t deny it.
Vince doesn’t deny that there might be more to this than just me helping him. I cling to that small thing like it’s a life raft, hiding a smile against my coffee cup.
Ace talks about how Phoenix wasn’t what he hoped. Vince asks about—Matthew? No, Mateo. I’m only half paying attention. Apparently he moved away for the guy and their relationship ended in disaster.
Ace and Vince trade insults, laughing in an easy and familiar way, which doesn’t help the jealousy. They’re clearly close, and why wouldn’t they be? They went to war together. That kind of history doesn’t fade.
But what about the rest of their history?Has that faded? Or is there still chemistry between them?
It’s impossible to know, and I hate how much I need to.
The rest of the morning drifts by in loose pieces—conversation that dips in and out as nurses come to check vitals or push meds. Someone brings another chair in for me, and Ace chuckles when I stay standing beside Vince.
He makes himself comfortable, injured leg stretched out in front of him as he rubs his knee. I catch myself staring at his prosthetic a few times. Not gawking, but curious.
I hate how curious I am about him.
I hate even more how often I compare myself to him.
Ace is wildly different from me. Shorter, broader, with silky hair and a smooth face. His voice is rough and unforgiving, and he isn’t afraid to say what he means. I’ve known the guy less than two hours and already I can see he doesn’t care what people think of him. Ace is what he is. They can accept him or not.
Was Vince really attracted to him? He’d said they’d fooled around while deployed, which made me think it was a fling. But flings don’t show up at your bedside when your world turns upside down.
Finally, Ace stands with a grunt, rubbing at the spot where his prosthetic meets skin. “Alright, man. Gotta give this thing a break. And find some food that isn’t in a vending machine. I’ll come back to check on you later, though.”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know if they discharge me.”
“You better.” He leans in to hug Vince again.
“You still have a key to my apartment?” Vince asks.
“What do you think?” Ace says.
Again, my stomach twists.Ace has a key?
Ace claps a hand loosely on my shoulder before heading out. “Nice to meet you, Fletcher. Take care of him for me.”
The sudden quiet he leaves behind seems bigger than the room. His presence was so dominating.
Vince sags against the pillow, eyes closed. He says nothing for a long time, then rolls his head toward me. “What’s on your mind?”
I can’t tell him the truth, yet it comes out anyway. “Just that Ace seems like a good friend.”
Vince reaches for me with a heavy hand. When I take it, he threads our fingers together and pulls me to him. I sit on the bed, facing him.
