Page 18 of Make Your Save

“Shit,” I mutter, sucking in a sharp breath as I quickly pull my hand away from the pan. My gaze falls down to my finger, looking at the redness already blossoming on my skin. I don’t know what I was thinking touching the pan without a glove.

“Oh my god, Hadley! Are you okay?” Rowan asks, immediately entering my space as he grabs my hand, inspecting my fingertips. His palm is warm against the back of my hand and my heart picks up pace in my chest—definitely from the burn, not from how goddamn close he’s standing to me. “Come here.”

Rowan gently pulls me over to the sink, his hand still caressing me as he flips on the facet, turning it tocold before he slips my hand beneath the stream. “Cold water is supposed to be better for burns,” he tells me, his voice soft as he doesn’t release me.

“Yeah,” I murmur, not telling him I already know that as electricity persists on the back of my hand, the burning feeling virtually nonexistent at this point. The faint scent of his body wash infiltrates my senses, my body betraying me as I memorize the way he smells.

Suddenly there’s someone behind me, their neck craning as their head pops over my shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He startles me and I jump, whipping my head to look over my shoulder at the stranger. His dark gray eyes meet mine and he scans my face before looking back at my hand. I remember seeing him at the hospital the night Rowan was there with a bunch of his friends, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him before. His dark brown, almost black hair is pushed to the side away from his face. The tousled, loose curls stop midway down the nape of his neck.

Rowan clears his throat, the cool air replacing his warmth as he pulls his hand away. “She grabbed the pan in the oven without a glove.” Rowan gives me a look. “You really should be more careful.”

“You don’t say,” I deadpan, giving him a blank stare before directing my gaze back to his friend. “I’m Hadley,” I say, a smile spreading across my lips. “I’d shake your hand, but you know...burnt fingers.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” The guy chuckles, his eyes bright and his smile warm. “I’m Carson Ford. Rowantold me about everything that’s going on, so I figured I’d come by and see how I can help.”

I glance at Rowan, scanning his face for anything that might give away how much he told Carson, but he’s closed off right now. His expression gives away nothing. “If you don’t mind, you can take that pan out of the oven,” I tell Carson, looking back at him. “Just make sure you use an oven mitt.”

“I’ll get it,” Rowan immediately interjects, his tone tense. I turn off the faucet, turning around to face the two of them as I wrap a paper towel around my fingers. “Ford, go grab some plates.”

Carson tips his chin at him, mumbling something under his breath as he walks over to the cupboard and begins to pull out a few plates. He walks across the room, heading through the open floor plan to the dining room as Rowan pulls out the sheet pan.

“Thank you for making food,” he says softly, his head turning to look at me. His eyes instantly find me, soft and gentle. “I know this entire situation is fucked up, but I appreciate you doing all this.”

“It’s really nothing, Rowan,” I insist, smiling at him as I finish drying my hands and inspect my fingers to avoid his gaze. There’s some remaining guilt inside my chest because in a way, I’m part of the reason he’s in this situation. “It’s the least I can do right now.”

“Whatever you made smells fucking amazing,” Carson announces as he walks back over. He pulls open a drawer, grabbing some silverware like he lives here. “They have a spread of food for us after the game, and even though it’s good, I’m sure this is a lot better.”

A quiet laugh escapes me and I watch the softest smile grace Rowan’s lips. He motions for me to go first and the three of us head over to the table. I sit down, Rowan sitting to my left and Carson taking the seat across from me. He wastes no time, scooping some lasagna onto his plate.

“You’ll have to excuse Ford,” Rowan half grumbles as he helps himself to some food, cutting his eyes at Carson before looking back at me. “He’s not as civilized as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, right,” Carson retorts, rolling his eyes as he reaches for a glass of water. “I’m just fucking starving.”

“I promise his manners are usually better than this.”

Carson gives him the middle finger and I stifle a laugh, my lips rolling in between my teeth as I bite back a grin. “I’ll just take it as a compliment.”

Rowan watches me for a moment before he starts to eat. I watch the satisfaction immediately hit him, his eyelids fluttering shut as he lets out a soft moan. “Jesus, this is really good,” he murmurs, his eyes opening as he looks directly at me.

“Right?” Carson chimes in. “I may have to fire my chef and hire you instead.”

“Nope,” Rowan argues, shaking his head at his friend. “She’s mine. You can’t have her.”

Amusement engulfs me and I settle in my seat, digging into my own food as I listen to the two of them volleying back and forth. Compliments tend to make me feel awkward, but I’m actually enjoying this. Rowan’s friend is more amusing than I expected him tobe and he has no problem giving Rowan shit like the two of them are brothers.

It’s comforting to know Rowan has those kinds of relationships in his life, especially because he doesn’t have that with his own brother.

After everyone finishes eating, Carson insists on meeting Lucy. Rowan glances at me for backup, but I know he has to do this on his own. I’m not going to be able to stay here forever. I won’t always be able to hold his hand.

“I’m going to clean up, but she’s in the living room sleeping,” I tell the two of them, my gaze meeting Rowan’s as I attempt to give him an encouraging look. I’m not sure if he picks up on my nonverbal cues or not, but with the tense look on his face, I don’t think he does.

He doesn’t protest and he doesn’t argue, which is refreshing. Turning around, I walk over to the sink as they disappear into the living room. I busy myself with the dishes, continuously resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. Rowan needs to be able to do this himself. The rest of his life might change after tomorrow and I need to know he can handle this.

I need to know he’ll be able to do this without me here.

When I finish up, I walk into the living room just as Lucy is beginning to wake up. Carson and Rowan areboth staring at her like she has two heads and they immediately look at me as I walk into the room.

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