“You said it, not me,” Greyson says, looking at his mom with an affection that makes my heart squeeze.
“Well, maybe we’ll go anyway,” his dad says.
“That would be nice,” Greyson says. “You’d enjoy it. The girls are doing great. And you could see Hallie’s daughter, Mia. She’s quite the player.”
The player you love, I think. Does he remember saying that?
The nurse comes back in, pushing a wheelchair. “Your chariot, Mr. Stone.”
Greyson pivots from the bed and plops into the chair in one fluid motion.
“Wow,” the nurse says. “Impressive. Just be careful.”
Greyson nods, glancing at me.
“Are you one of those patients who doesn’t follow orders?” I ask him, daring to tease him in our usual way.
“I follow orders,” he says, smirking at me.
“He’s a terrible patient,” his mother says with fondness. “Hates showing any weakness. Always has.”
“I don’t like being a burden,” Greyson corrects her.
“You’re not a burden,” I assure him.
Greyson’s eyes connect with mine, like he’s trying to tell me something he can’t say here.
I hold his gaze, thinking,You’re the farthest thing from a burden. I hope he can read my thoughts.
“I’m going to release your brakes,” the nurse says.
“I’ve got the crutches,” his dad says. “Hallie, do you want to grab a few of those flower arrangements?”
“Can we just leave them as a thank you to the nurses?” Greyson asks.
“Why, isn’t that sweet?” his mom says.
Greyson turns to the woman pushing his wheelchair. “Make sure you get one.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stone.” She looks at him like she swallowed the heart-eye emoji.
I get it. Even before I knew he was Ace, he had that effect on me.
In the parking lot, we separate. Greyson transfers into his parents’ car, and our eyes lock once more before I walk to my van. Then I follow them out to Greyson’s property.
An unfamiliar car is in the driveway when we pull in.
“Whose car is that?” I ask, walking over to Greyson’s parents’ car.
“Mrs. Kinkaid’s,” Greyson says.
My face must show my lack of recognition because he adds, “Zach’s mom.”
“I haven’t seen Lindsey in forever,” Mrs. Stone says.
“Now, how are we getting you up those stairs?” Greyson’s dad asks.
Greyson grabs the crutches and propels himself up to the front door, shouting into the house, “Mrs. Kinkaid!”
