“So, you’re really going to date her?”

I look to Justin and stare blankly at him. “Do you really need me to answer that question again?”

“You’re committing social suicide.” Kristy’s lips pucker with disgust.

“You mean no one’s going to vote for me at prom?” I give her my best look of surprise, which has her rolling her eyes in return.

“He could sabotage your career,” Justin warns me.

“So, I’m supposed to be afraid of this asshole?”

“I’m not telling you to be afraid of him, I’m telling you to consider your future. Is it more important to date a hot chick now or have the career you’ve been working your ass off for later?”

“Honest to God, you’re lucky I like you.”

Justin snickers. “Why? You want to knock me out too?”

“Ella’s not just some hot chick. I’m not dating her to piss off her asshole of an ex, either. This isn’t some reality TV drama.”

“You really think you could marry her one day?”

I don’t even recognize my friend. He’s always been an asshole, but I’ve never taken his words as being more than a crude joke, but right now I realize how offensive most of what he says really is.

“’Cause if you can’t look me in the eye and tell me you want to do anything more than sleep with her and piss off Patrick, then go for it.” He shrugs. “Kiss your career good-bye, and don’t come cryin’ to me when it does.”

“Justin, stop being an asshole.”

I turn to Kristy, amazed because of all the people in this town, I would have picked her to be siding with her husband right now.

Justin is also shocked, his eyebrows raised high into his widow’s peak. “You hate her,” he says. “You’ve always hated her.”

“That’s because I’ve never seen or heard anyone, including herself, say anything different.”

“She thought it would blow over if she didn’t feed into it,” I explain.

Kristy looks like she’s eaten something sour. “That just makes her look guilty. We know she’s smart, so if she isn’t willing to defend herself and we keep hearing about how big of a slut she is, what are we supposed to believe?”

“I was starting to like you for a second,” I say.

“I am not the enemy. I have never once started a rumor about Ella because I don’t know her, and while I might spread rumors about others, I am a fact checker.”

Disregarding all the messages and hymns of my childhood spent at Sunday school, I stare at Kristy with a new question I haven’t even considered before. “Who is making and spreading the rumors?”

She lifts her shoulders. “I’m not sure, but rumors that live this long are typically true. It’s not as though we heard these eight years ago and just can’t forget about them.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Kristy leans forward in her seat. “There are new rumors all the time about her. Saying things about how many times she calls Patrick and begs him to meet her somewhere, how she’s always texting him, following him.” She waves her hand in the air. “I hear a new one at least once a month, sometimes more.”

“So is it him?”

With another sour face, Kristy shakes her head. “No, like three years ago now, Patrick punched someone for throwing a five-dollar bill at Ella and telling her he wanted her on her knees.”

My body heats with anger before I can stop it with reason. “Who in the hell said that to her?”

Kristy’s eyebrows draw up as she leans back. “We’re not going there. You aren’t going to get away with acting like Rambo every time someone says something about her, or you’re going to be hitting everyone in this town.”

“Is it his wife?” I ask. “Is she the one spreading the rumors?”

She shifts her eyes, considering the possibility. “I don’t think so. Lindsay’s sweet. She took the news really hard. I think she even felt guilty because she can’t have kids.”

Narrowing my eyes, I hear her say that again, but this time in Ella’s voice, because that’s where I heard those same words before.

“Who told you that?” I ask.

Kristy shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”

“Curious.”

Justin releases a long breath through his nose and sits back in his seat, cradling his beer. “The guys at the station all have your back,” he tells me before taking a long swig. “Me included. Lance even threatened to walk out if Captain tried to suspend you, and you know what that means.”

I do. The entire station looks up to Lance, including the captain. He’s our father figure and one of the most trusted and respected people in this town. Having him stand up for me is huge.

“Don’t blow off your shift tomorrow,” Justin adds.

“Careful. You’re showing your soft side,” I tease. “You don’t want anyone thinking you might have a heart somewhere in there.”

He flips me off.

“They’re only willing to take me back because of my medical training.”

“Who gives a shit about the why? Care about the what,” Justin says.

“I don’t want to be there if they’re going to look for every excuse to get rid of me later for this.”

“Dude, are you hearing me? The entire station has your back. Don’t worry about it. No one’s even talking about what happened.”

I had been expecting everyone to be talking about Ella and me after punching Patrick in the face. My intentions had been as clear as his, and there was a full room of people to witness it. But Ella told me she had spoken to Rachel, and she still had no idea that we were seeing each other.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at some barbecue? Isn’t that why you were originally going to blow me off again?”

“Oh, stop. I wasn’t blowing you off. My neighbor Rachel invited me over and you know she’s Ella’s best friend.”

“So Rachel likes you. Ella and you are dating. And Rachel has invited you over for dinner?” Justin smiles, his eyes bright with humor and dirty jokes that I can hear without him saying a word. “I thought you said your life wasn’t a reality show?”

Kristy turns to me with disbelief framing her rounded eyes. “You guys haven’t told her?”

I shake my head. “We were taking things slowly. Ella doesn’t want to hurt her. They’ve been close for years, and well … you’ve seen how this town treats Ella. I don’t want her to lose the one person who’s been a true friend through all the shit people have put her through.”

“Good luck with that,” she says. “You’re going to hang out with Ella’s best friend who likes you, all by yourself? You realize she’s inviting you over for a reason, right?”

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

Kristy looks at me as though considering her answer.

“It’s at Ella’s house,” I explain. “Since Hayden was discharged, she’s having a hard time being away from him.”

“How is he?” Justin asks.

I suck in a deep breath. “He’s lucky. Another couple of minutes and we’d be in a very different situation.”

“Was it really bad?” Kristy asks.

I look at her, and for the first time wonder what this town is saying about the night of Hayden’s reaction and the fight between Patrick and me that followed it.

“He was dead when we arrived.” My words are harsh and cold because the question is ridiculous. It doesn’t matter how severe his reaction was. What matters is that it occurred. That there was no one there to save him, and Hayden is now terrified to eat anything or leave his mother’s side. And it’s pushing Ella far outside of her comfort limits as she pretends to act unfazed by the situation, working tirelessly to show she isn’t afraid so as to not perpetuate his fears.

Kristy lowers her gaze and then looks at me. “Maybe after you tell her friend, you can bring her and Hayden over for supper?” she says.

For years, I’ve always seen Kristy as a ball buster. She’s bossy and loud and gives looks that make you feel like less of a person, but as her light blue eyes glance up at me while extending this olive branch, I can see a glimpse of her loyalty.

I don’t know what Ella would think of this idea, but I nod with appreciation.

Rachel opens the door when I knock at Ella’s. “Hey, you,” she says with a smile. “How are you doing?”

“Hey.” I had hoped to beat her here so I could spend a few minutes with Ella and just unwind. There’s something therapeutic about her presence and being able to share my thoughts with her—or just the same moment. I work to not show my disappointment by smiling at Rachel as I step inside.

“I hope you’re hungry. I got off early and started cooking all my favorite barbecue dishes,” Rachel continues as we walk toward the kitchen.

There’s a big box fan between the kitchen and living room, and the back door is open. It’s finally cooled down a little, but it’s still too hot out. I feel Ella’s attention in my chest like a switch being flipped, and then that warmth that comes when she’s near spreads, and much like a fire, it climbs, fast growing in intensity and heat.

My hands itch to reach out and rest on her hips, and my lungs crave to breathe in her scent, making Rachel’s presence an even greater struggle.

“Burn the bacon?” I ask.

“It’s been an hour, and I opened all the windows! How can you smell it?” she cries.

I place a finger on my nose. “Comes with the profession.”

Ella’s smile becomes blinding. “It was her fault,” she says, pointing at Rachel. “I got a call from work, and she said she would watch it.”

“Technically, you were off the call when it burned. I assumed you had taken the baton.”

Ella laughs, but I see traces of fear and sadness lingering in her eyes. She wants to tell her tonight after I head home, and though I’ve suggested we do it together, she insists on doing it alone so if Rachel is upset, she doesn’t have me there to witness it. She’s been trying to arrange time with her all week to let her know, but Rachel’s business just moved to a new and bigger location and she’s been gone a lot. This has been the first time they’ve spent time together, and Rachel had taken it upon herself to invite me as well. It is my own selfishness that is making this more difficult for Ella, because I didn’t want to be away from her for a night, especially when I have to be back at the station tomorrow.

“Well, I was just going to do hotdogs and hamburgers, but Rachel insisted we actually barbecue, so we’ve got enough to feed an army. There’s ribs, short ribs, pulled pork, barbecued chicken, and every side dish you can think of. She even made okra.” Ella points to a large bowl.

She’s telling me this for my own benefit, knowing I can’t stand okra, but I smile and tell them how grateful I am. And it’s genuine. While I don’t care for all the dishes here, I have a deep appreciation for someone cooking for me. I know from the station how much time, work, and energy goes into it and will never take that for granted.

The doorbell rings, and Ella and I look to each other. There’s been silence regarding any and every thing pertaining to Patrick, and as she looks at me, I know we’re both questioning if this is the moment when the pin enters the balloon of silence.

Rachel smiles and claps her hands. “Perfect!”

“What’s perfect? Who is that?” Ella asks.

“Garret!” Rachel’s smile grows before she disappears to answer the door.

“Garret?” I ask, unfamiliar with the name.

Ella’s frown tells me enough, but she tries to explain in a hushed whisper, “We went on a date a few weeks ago. Things have been so busy that I forgot to even send him a message and tell him I’m not interested.”

Annoyance burns stronger than jealousy. I know how much Ella hated the online dates, and seeing her look more defeated than embarrassed tells me it’s explaining to Rachel that she not only doesn’t like Garret, but that she and I are together that’s weighing on her.

“Where’s Hayden?” I ask.

“In his room watching a movie. He’s tired today.”

“That’s normal.” I assure her before glancing toward the front door where Rachel is opening the front door. “We can do this now. Tell both of them at the same time.”

Ella begins to speak as Rachel appears with a man holding a large bouquet of red roses.

Fuck me.

This guy is totally invested, and his cocky grin makes me want to shove him back outside and into whatever car he drove over here.

“Surprise!” Rachel announces, lifting her arms in the air like he’s something to be celebrated.

“Hi, Ella,” Garret says, smiling unabashedly.

Ella steps forward, accepting the goddamn flowers and hugs him. He begins apologizing about Hayden’s recent “incident” but I miss most of it because Rachel steps beside me and wraps both of her hands around my bicep and pulls her chest closer to me.

“Aren’t they adorable?” she says.

I take a deep breath to calm myself, but it seems to only add fuel, as though a real fire is currently burning inside of me.

“I’m so proud of her for finally stepping outside of her comfort zone and finding someone she’s interested in.”

She already has, and it’s me.

“How did you pull this off?” Ella asks, looking to Rachel.

“I know you’ve been really busy with Hayden, and so I just logged in to touch base with him on your behalf and thought this would be perfect since we were all getting together anyway.”

“I hope this is all right,” Garret says, looking between the two women.

“Of course it is!” Rachel answers for them. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

Ella looks to me, her arms full of the roses and her dark hair curled in the loose curls I love weaving my fingers through. Everything about this moment is a hundred times worse than I expected this evening to go, and it’s only the beginning.

Once in the kitchen, Rachel releases my arm and opens Ella’s fridge. “Would you like a margarita?” She holds up a large pitcher of the light green liquid.

I tell her I don’t, fearing it could lead me to say something that will make this all even worse.

“So how is Hayden?” Garret’s question makes Ella’s shoulders square, and anger and frustration subside so I can pay attention to what has her currently on edge.

“You know, I should probably check on him,” she says. “He still isn’t feeling a hundred percent.” As she brushes past me, I see the note of fear in her eyes.

“So you’re Rachel’s boyfriend?” Garret asks.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Rachel cries. “Where are my manners?” She laughs and holds my arm again, her fingers icy from handling the margarita pitcher. “This is Coen. Coen, Garret.” She waves between us, and I feel the obligation to offer my hand.

He takes it, shaking my hand loosely, not realizing he will want to break my nose when he learns Ella and I are together. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

I smile, because I can’t manage to repeat the words back to him. “Excuse me,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, sure. Did you need the restroom? Do you know where it is?” Rachel asks, taking two steps to follow me.

“Yeah. I’ve got it, thanks.”

I likely know this house as well as she does, possibly better, considering I’ve switched Ella’s air filters and checked numerous other safety features throughout her house on more than one occasion. I take the steps two at a time, not caring as much as I should about the noise of my footsteps.

Ella is in her room where Hayden is propped up on her million pillows, watching a movie.

“Hey, Coen!” Hayden smiles and sits up.

“Hey, man. How are you feeling today?”

“Good. I just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Aunt Rachel tonight. She’s been acting crazy all afternoon.”

Smiling, I nod my understanding. “Did you find something good to watch?”

“Yeah, this is my favorite movie.”

“Ninja Turtles. Nice.”

“You want to watch it with me?” Hayden asks.

“Yeah, just give me a second with your mom, okay?”

Hayden shrugs his approval, moving his attention back to the TV. Reluctance leaves Ella at his side, but she looks at me, and finally I realize what this is all about.

“Just the hall,” I assure her.

If it weren’t about Hayden, I’d have the conversation with her here, but the last thing he needs is more to fear. Ella kisses his forehead and stands. Meeting her halfway, we share a look, one filled with promises and trust that I don’t have to search for a response to, because her fingers twine with mine and she leads us to the hall where she pushes the door closed.

Releasing her hand, I run all ten of my fingers through her hair and then kiss each of her temples before pulling back to see what degree that fire in her eyes is burning.

“I can’t believe she invited him to my house,” she exclaims. “I barely know the guy and she told him about Hayden, his name, my address. What if he’s some kind of murderer?”

“I think she wanted it to be like a double date,” I explain.

“Of course that’s what she wanted. She’s obsessed with you! I swear. And I’ve been so worried about hurting her feelings that I think I’ve only compounded the issue. Now I’m so angry with her that I don’t even care if she’s upset. I just want to scream it so she knows, and she gets out of my personal life.”

“She’s your best friend,” I remind her. “She’s always going to be in your personal life.” I can’t believe I’m defending Rachel, especially when I agree on every front that inviting this clown over was a mistake. “I’ll make sure nothing happens, and I’ll stay over. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Do you think we should just go down there and tell them both?”

Resting my hands on her waist, I stare at the conflict happening in her eyes, knowing she’s far more worried about the possible outcome of this situation than she’s trying to admit to herself. “I think it’s your call. Whatever is going to make you the most comfortable is what we’ll do. If you want to go now, we can. I’ll explain it to them, or if you want to wait until that guy’s gone, I can stick around and help do it then, or we can go with your original plan.”

We stand in the hallway together for several moments as she debates the options, and I can tell she doesn’t want to make the decision, so I try to make an easier choice for her.

“Do you want me to stay up here with Hayden for a while or come down with you?”

“Come with me?” she asks. “I can’t be down there by myself.” She lifts a hand in the air. “But, can you help tag-team watching Garret with me?”

“Tag-team? I’m going to watch the asshole’s every move until he leaves.”

Ella smiles and leans into me. “Is this what jealousy looks like on you?”

“Are you implying that I have something to be jealous about?”

“Depends.” Her eyes narrow.

“On what?” I ask.

“Will you keep looking at me like I’m yours if I tell you there’s nothing to worry about?”

I pull her hips against me, then release my grip with one hand to run it through her hair again. “You just haven’t been paying attention. I’ve been looking at you like you’re mine since I first saw you.”

Ella tilts her head back and kisses me hard, with the same passion that resonates within me.

“Think if we wait up here long enough they’ll get the hint and go home?” she asks.

I don’t tell her what I’m actually thinking, which is that we’re likely making things worse for ourselves. Instead, I smile, because that kiss was worth having to face the most difficult of tasks.

Ella heads down first, and I visit Hayden for a few moments, watching what he refers to as an epic fight that his mom usually makes him fast-forward. When the scene ends, Hayden turns to me and leans back farther into the pillows.

“You know how you said you like my mom a lot?”

I nod and lie back too.

“My dad says he likes my mom a lot too, but he’s married to Lindsay…”

My face turns somber. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for Hayden to understand their relationship, and I’m sure I’ve done nothing but add more questions and turbulence to the equation.

“I like you being around,” Hayden says. “I really hope you don’t marry someone else.”

I’m not sure if he’s insinuating what I think he is or anything at all, but I try to reassure him with a smile. “I like being around too. You and your mom make me really happy, and I plan on being around a lot.”

Hayden’s blue eyes burn bright as he stares at me for a prolonged moment, and then nods. And like that, whatever he was considering, he’s at peace with because he turns back to his movie with a serene look upon his face.

I’m frozen in time, debating whether I should be attempting some sage advice, or asking him more questions about what he’s thinking or feeling like Ella does. Then, I think of what my father would have done in a situation like this, and realize he likely wouldn’t be up here to begin with, and think that while I may not be the perfect example for Hayden—I want to be.

I want to be what is best for him, and it isn’t only because Ella has crawled so deeply under my skin, it’s because Hayden has too.

“You know what’s pretty cool?”

Blue eyes stare at me, and I see that spark of hope that sometimes lights his mother’s.

Don’t fuck this up.

“You know how you’ve been debating which position to play with baseball?”

“Yeah.” Hayden sits up.

I attempt to match his body language, squaring my shoulders. “Well …when you get older … much older, some of your relationships will be kind of like that. You’ll have to decide who you want to spend your life with. It’s a big decision, but you’ll know when you meet the right person because everything will feel different. Better.

But there are many other relationships in your life with friends, and teammates, and colleagues where you don’t have to make a decision.”

His furrowed brow confirms I’m confusing him.

“For example, I have four sisters and a brother, but I don’t have a favorite sibling. I love them equally. My brother and I play sports together and like to watch movies. My youngest sister and I watch baseball together. And my older sisters are really great to talk to when I’m struggling with making a decision.”

“Are you guys going to have a baby?”

I cough, the shock of Hayden’s question causing me to choke.

“No.” I shake my head, but the thought filters through my mind, and my no becomes less vigorous. “What I’m trying to tell you, is regardless of what the future brings—you and me—we’ll remain close. You can trust me, and if you want to talk about anything, or play baseball, or go see a movie, or whatever—I’m there. You don’t have to worry about choosing between me and someone else.”

He turns his attention back to the TV. Concerned I’ve overstepped, I prepare to say something more. Explain he doesn’t have to tell me anything or feel obligated to spend time with me. Nothing.

Hayden nods and his eyes shift back to me. “You saved my life. Twice. But that isn’t why I love you. You’re nice. And you’re really nice to my mom. You’re funny, and you come to my baseball games. Plus, you don’t treat me like I’m a kid, or like you have to put up with me.”

Those three words are said so often, so easily, and too regularly mean so little. There’s no way Hayden has lived long enough to understand the ramification of them, but he also hasn’t learned to be superficial or abuse the term either, making them genuine and sincere.

“I love you too, buddy.” With my arms wrapped tightly around him, I pledge to be the first to tell him those words next time. To say them often and earnestly.