He shrugs. “I came from a good home. My parents love me, and I love them.”
I take in his words. “That’s great.” I don’t think his family is anything like mine, but I’ve always known my family was special. I am so blessed to have grown up with the family I did.
“What happened to your dad?” The question startles me. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I don’t remember him. He left my mom when my brother and I were young. According to my mom, he just walked out one day and didn’t come back. I don’t remember him at all. I only have memories of my stepdad. He’s the greatest thing that ever happened to any of us. Well, until they had kids; and then it got even better.”
He glances at the door and then back at me. “I think the food is here.”
“Oh, okay.” I start to stand up, but he puts his hand on my leg, stopping me.
“I’ll just bring it in here.”
“It’s fine. I’m feeling much better. We can go out.” He studies my face a moment in a way that is so Slater before he finally stands up. I take that as my cue to stand as well. I look down at my blood-stained shirt again and grimace. Nobody wants to see all that blood while they’re trying to eat. “I’ll see if Evie has a shirt I can borrow.”
He walks over to his drawer and opens it. When he turns back around, he’s holding a shirt. “You can wear this.”
I eye the shirt he’s holding out, debating. On the one hand, I would love to wear one of his shirts. On the other hand, if it didn’t fit or was snug, I’d be mortified. “I’m not sure,” I start, but he’s not having it.
“I’ll turn around, so you can change.” He puts the shirt over my shoulder and faces the door. Realizing there’s no way around it, I decide to just go for it and pray it fits. I take my time taking my shirt off and trying to pull it up and over my sensitive face. Then I pull on his shirt. I relax when I realize I had nothing to worry about. The shirt falls nearly to midthigh, causing me to laugh.
“I could wear this to bed.” I don’t know why I said the words; they just sort of slipped out. But it gets really awkward really fast, and I could kick myself. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that; I always make things awkward.”
He turns around slowly, and his eyes run the length of me, causing me to shiver. “It looks good on you.” His words are deep, and I feel them viscerally.
I take a deep breath, needing out of this room so I can catch a full breath. “Ready?” He nods and opens the door for me. I don’t miss the hand on my back when I pass in front of him. I remind myself that it doesn’t mean anything to him and try not to make a big deal out of it. That’s my MO—making a big deal out of things. I don’t want to do that now. We walk out to the living room where Evie is snuggled up next to Zane on the couch. She turns to us and hops off the couch in a flash. “Tessa.” She moves towards me like she’s going to hug me, but Slater makes a sound in his chest. She stops, but I move forward anyway and hug my best friend. She pulls back and looks at my nose and grimaces. “That looks so painful. How are you doing?”
“Okay right now. The pain pills have been working.” I look around the room. “Where are Quint and Reid?”
Slater makes another sound behind me, and I turn to him. “What is your deal?”
His eyes meet mine. “Nothing.”
“Then stop sounding like a rabid dog.”
Zane barks out a laugh, and Evie grins when I turn back to her. “Where are the other guys?”
“Reid has a game tonight, and Quint had things to do,” Zane answers, coming to stand behind Evie.
“Why are you asking about them?” Slater asks from behind me.
I turn to face him. “I just wanted to make sure Quint was okay.”
A dark expression crosses his face. “Why wouldn’t he be okay? You’re the one who got hurt.”
“Yes, I remember,” I emphasize by pointing to my nose. “I just know he probably feels bad, and I wanted to make sure he’s okay.”
“He’s fine.” Slater’s words are dark, and I raise an eyebrow but he doesn’t say anything.
“Are you hungry?” Evie asks, turning my attention back to her. “The food just arrived, and I’m starving.”
“Me too.” I follow her over to the kitchen where she starts pulling food out of the bag. “Nice shirt, by the way,” she says with a grin.
I match her grin. “Thanks.”
She digs through the bag. “What did you get?”
“Chicken and wild rice soup.”
