“Hush now, bubba.”
I huff a laugh at her baby name for me.
I will always be her bubba.
She will always be my mama.
We’ve been through too much to ever let go of what we have together.
“Where’s Hammond?” I ask Davey as he sends the polish rag around the chrome fender on 53 again. Our beloved engine is outside in the driveway, under the city’s many, many night lights. Davey jerks his head up.
Up.
In the hoses.
I climb up the side of the engine, stepping over the top edge. Sure enough, Hammond lies on the hoses, attention stuck on the stars overhead.
“Want some company?” I offer.
Miles turns his gaze to find mine as I give up a smile, and he breathes, “Sure, probie.”
I tamp back the chuckle at the nickname and lie down beside him. The hoses are somewhat soft but bulky under my sore muscles.
“Come here often?” I ask, biting back a smile.
Miles chuckles. “Yeah, I do, actually.”
“Of course you do, Cap.”
He rolls over, propping his head up on his hand, elbow sinking into the hoses.
“You see the shrink after last week?” His blue eyes study my face.
I keep my eyes on the stars. “Yeah, you?”
“Mandatory, remember.”
“Why’d you ask, then?” I frown, and he smiles.
“Just making conversation, London.”
“Ha! Some topic you picked.”
“What do you want to talk about, then?”
The mirth fades from my face as I swallow past the stone wedged in my airway. “I dunno.”
Miles runs his gaze over my face before it falters and snaps away.
“You can report Schmiddy if you need to, you know that, right?” he says softly.
“He’s harmless. Besides, I think Owens sorted him out proper.”
Miles chuckles. “Yeah, that’ll keep him in line for a while at least.”
“You think he’ll do something else?”
“We didn’t end up with him here by accident.”
