Everyone started clapping as if this was a real sporting event. I caught myself grinning. All the pain faded away.
Chapter Seven
Clover
* * *
“You can relax,” Van said. “It’s really okay.”
I brandished two fresh bags of ice, one for his shoulder and one for his knee. “I know you’re okay, but this will make you okayer.”
He was half reclined in the corner of the couch, where I put him as soon as we got home. We’d been watching a movie, and I was on an ice routine with him. I bent over his leg, tucking the bag of ice cubes against his joint. Next, I snugged the second bag under his shoulder.
Studying my handiwork, I nodded. “It’s time for another dose of meds.”
“Clover. Relax. You’ve been hovering. You need to rest too.”
“I’m fine.”
“You didn’t hit the ground, but you still fell on me. Are you sure…” His gaze brushed against my stomach.
I put a protective hand on my abdomen. Other than tender boobs and nausea until the late afternoon, I didn’t feel pregnant. I didn’t look it quite yet, either. “The nugget is only the size of a lentil. One website said a baked bean.”
“A baked bean can be twice the size of a lentil.”
“Right? I got a little confused. Like, which legume is it, then?”
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling. I’d seen a new side of Van today. He had chatted with my family, played ball, and just seemed so much more relaxed than normal. The Van from the few Wagner family dinners I had attended wasn’t nearly as easygoing. Only then I hadn’t known it wasn’t the real him.
Awareness skittered through me, and I backed up. “Hungry? I have the munchies, and Poppy sent us home with a ton of food.” We’d left to rehab Van’s knee before the crew dug into the food again. I scurried to the kitchen and said over my shoulder, “Usually, we’d play kickball for forever, end up bickering—playfully—about the score, then we’d eat again. Sometimes, Jensen even brings out another pack of burgers, and we start all over again.”
I dug through the fridge and grabbed the plates that Poppy prepared. Chips sounded good, so I stuffed those under my arm.
When I returned, Van had his eyes closed, his head tipped against the edge of the sofa. He really was good-looking. His hair had grown out slightly since he’d trimmed it. The longer style fit him. Made him seem less severe and untouchable and more…touchable.
I stopped and took a step back. If he was resting, I wouldn’t wake him.
He cracked an eye open. “Where are you going?”
“I thought you were resting.”
“I’ve been on mandatory rest since we got home.”
“Because I crashed into you.” I sat and took the plastic covering off the plates. Each had a plastic fork, cookies, brownies, a hamburger, and my cookie salad. “I should’ve been more aware.”
“We collided.” He opened the chips and dug out a giant crinkle-cut chip. He held it out to me. “It was an honest accident.”
I snatched the bag out of his hands and dug around inside. “I like the big ones.”
“I know.”
Surprised, I tipped my head. “How?”
He lifted his good shoulder and dug out another, smaller chip. “Just something I noticed.”
“Oh.” My chip-size preference was a tiny detail, but he’d noticed. Don’t look into it too hard, Clover. “Want me to heat the hamburger?”
“Nope.” He took a big bite. The muscles in his jaw flexed with each bite. A little furrow crossed his brow as he studied his food, like he was deciding what to eat next. He started to lift his gaze.
