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"Yeah," I tell him. "I don't know either."

Gianna's Meatball Joint is loud at lunch. The hostess knows us and waves us toward the back booth — me, Spinner, Rookie, Howie, and Ella, who has become a permanent fixture at team outings when she’s not at work saving lives. She and her brother pick at each other so much that she’s like one of the guys. Except Howie does not look at her like a friend. I still can’t believe he thought he was hiding his true feelings for Rookie’s sister.

Spinner orders Mercy Balls for the table. I love that Gianna made a custom meatball for Ella when Ella was hired permanently at Mercy hospital.

Rookie studies the menu like he hasn't memorized it, and I know he's about to ask whether they can substitute the beef with bison, elk, or whatever lean game he's currently eating. I start to relax a bit. Life as usual with the gang.

"So." Spinner leans forward, elbows on the table, crushing my peace. "How's life at Casa de BB?"

"Fine."

"Fine." He looks at Rookie. "He says fine."

"I heard him," Rookie says, not looking up from the menu.

"It's been a minute,” Spinner continues. "You're living with a woman. Whom you’re dating." He gestures with a breadstick. "And your update is fine?"

Howie flicks Spinner in the arm. “Dude, who says whom?”

Spinner flips him the bird and turns to me expectantly.

"It's fine. We have a routine. I cook, she practices, and the cat sits in the window." I take a drink of water. "It's fine."

Spinner points the breadstick at me again. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened."

"Your left eye twitched. Something happened."

I pick up my own breadstick and consider jabbing Spinner in the throat. "It's just ... not what I expected."

The table goes quiet. Even Rookie looks up.

"What did you expect?" Ella asks, her voice gentle. I can see why patients tell her things they didn't plan to say. She's dangerous.

"I don't know. Awkward. Temporary. Like crashing at a teammate's place…” I break the breadstick in half. "It doesn't feel like that."

"What does it feel like?" Spinner asks, and for once he's not grinning.

I stare at the food. What does it feel like? It feels like the first place I've lived where I'm not waiting to leave. It feels like the best part of my day is her key in the door. It feels like watching her eat the food I cook is almost as satisfying as watching her come.

"It feels settled," I say. "It feels like I live there."

Howie meets my gaze, steady and calm. Recognition flickers across his face. A few months ago he moved in with Rookie's sister "temporarily" and was gone for her immediately."Yeah," Howie says. "That's how it starts."

Ella rests her hand on Howie's on the table. He doesn't react, which means it's constant. These two.

"So you're in love with her," Spinner says, because Spinner has never encountered a moment he couldn't detonate.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to, brother." He picks up a Mercy Ball and takes an enormous bite. “Cooking for her is lover shit.”

"That's not —"

"That's, like, your highest form of caring,” Rookie says. “Ella, has he ever made you eggs?"

"He has not," Ella confirms.