Page 150 of The Clinch
“It’s the first day. It will settle.” She pauses, grins. “Though I’ve heard things about medical school.”
I sigh and let myself fall back against the cool leather seat as traffic crawls around us in hot, irritated waves.
“So why are you headed to see Leo? Special accommodations?”
She lifts one shoulder. “He’s too smoked to come up to Yorkville tonight, so I told him I’d stop by for a cranial sacral session.”
The comment tugs me back toward his world before I can shut it down. I picture him exactly as he’ll be, exhausted, stripped down by camp, all that contained force pressed into stillness, and heat skims low through me before I can stop it.
“That’s nice of you.”
“Sisterly duties.” She smiles, turning her gaze back to the road. Traffic moves a little faster once we are off the bridge. Manhattan recedes behind us, glass and steel softening in the distance. I can feel the morning wearing off in real time.
By the time we pull up in front of Leo’s building, the overwhelm and fatigue catches up with me. Not just physically. Deeper than that. The kind of tired that comes from holdingyourself together in public for hours and only realizing afterward how hard you were gripping.
Eden reaches for the door handle. “Come on. Let’s go fix your boxer. Then I’ll give you a few minutes too. You look as if you could use them.”
I smile despite myself, gather my things, and follow her out into the fading heat.
Upstairs, the apartment is cool and quiet. Leo is in the living room, stretched back into the corner of the couch, one arm draped across his middle, his head tipped against the cushion. He’s burned all the way down to the edges, his body heavy with exhaustion.
It should soften him.
It doesn’t.
If anything, fatigue strips him down to the hardest parts—the big body burning low rather than out, the quiet watchfulness under half-lidded eyes, the sense that even wrecked, he could fill the whole room just by lifting his head.
“Hey.” He sounds as tired as he looks.
“Hey.” I set my tote and folder by the entry table. “Long day?”
He almost smiles. “You first.”
Of course. Even flattened by camp, he reaches for me before he reaches for himself.
A part of me thrills at that. At being seen that fast. Claimed that quietly.
Eden snorts softly. “That answer alone tells me I got here at exactly the right time.”
36
CORNER WORK (LIZ)
Eden jerks her chin toward the hallway. “Bedroom, big brother.”
I smile and head for the kitchen while Leo pushes himself up and follows his sister, who is already gathering her hair up and shifting into work mode.
“Are you staying for dinner?” I call after them before they disappear down the hall.
“No. Heading to Tarrytown right after. Nate is making zucchini flowers. Apparently they’re in season, and we have to take full advantage.”
I hear Leo chuckle, low and tired, and then the bedroom door closes softly behind them.
The fridge is full of the pre-portioned meals Leo’s nutritionist had delivered, neatly labeled with our names.
Our names.
I pull out salmon, spinach, and rice and start plating dinner without thinking about it. Napkins. Water glasses. Cutlery. The motions come too easily now, as if this kitchen has started recognizing me back.
