Page 11 of Replay (Toronto Blaze #3)

My New Friend

Katie

You can do this , I told myself. It was just a car.

I was fine with driving a stick. I’d learned on one and had been driving a standard back home before I’d moved six weeks ago.

I just hadn’t driven since then, and traffic here was different than I was used to—more congested, more bus and bike lanes, and frantic drivers.

Plus, the little Ford Focus I drove was vastly different in power than this.

I threw my bag in the back seat and drew a long breath before settling in the driver’s seat. Then I couldn’t get a key to pop out of the fob Josh had given me. What the hell?

“Just push the button while you’re pumping the brake,” he yelled at me from where he was standing by the doors.

I did, and the engine rumbled, loud and powerful. Another breath, before I pulled the door shut and put her in gear. A lurch. I hadn’t removed the parking brake. Shit.

Took care of that, and carefully, so carefully, stepped on the clutch till I felt it take.

I’d seen a sixth gear on the shifter, and hell if I was using that.

First gear rolled us gently forward, and I kept it slow till I’d curved around and pulled up beside Josh.

I put it in neutral and hauled up the parking brake, then jumped out to help him.

He managed to get the door open, but the crutches didn’t want to fit in the opening.

“Turn and set your ass down. I’ll throw these in the back.” He rolled his eyes at my bossiness, but once he’d gotten in the seat I was able to slide the crutches in the back and get behind the wheel.

Josh played with the display and set up directions for me to get to his place. It wasn’t too far—about halfway between the arena and Madeline’s condo. I pulled in a long breath, and Josh turned with a grin. “You can do this.”

We’d soon find out.

I pushed down on the clutch and shifted into first. The car started forward, reasonably smoothly. No jerking. Go, me.

I drove slowly to the exit. The GPS told me to turn right, so I flicked the turn signal and checked for traffic coming from the left. This time of day the streets were less congested than at rush hour. Fortunately.

I pulled out okay. Shifted up through second and third before a traffic light stopped us again. Josh didn’t try to talk, since all my focus was on shifting and keeping the car from hitting anything. But in the silence, his stomach growled.

I turned my head.

He shrugged. “I eat a lot, and I missed lunch while they were working on my knee. Mind if we pick something up?”

The light changed, and the voice in the car urged me to proceed forward. “Is there a drive-thru on the way?”

“Um…”

“What do you want?” I knew that tone of um . I knew the Josh of five years ago so well, and that Josh was a lot like this one.

“There’s a Greek place a few blocks away. It’s in a little strip mall, so you can park. It’s not a drive-thru, but it’s not too different?”

His stomach growled again. A big part of me wanted to just get to his place as soon as possible so I could relax.

But the guy was injured and hungry. I was getting more comfortable with the car.

Timewise, I didn’t have that much work due before tomorrow.

And the Josh I’d known couldn’t boil water, so he needed food.

It was probably safer to park somewhere than navigate a drive-thru, where I might scrape something.

He played with the display again, and the voice directed me to turn left at the next intersection. Couldn’t between four and six, according to the sign over the traffic light, but now it was good.

The place, when the GPS told me we’d arrived at our location on the left, wasn’t very prepossessing. There was a payday loan shop on one side and a convenience store on the other. The windows were a little grimy, and I couldn’t see anyone inside.

Still, he’d lived here for years, and if this was what he was hungry for…

I stopped the car and pulled on the parking brake again. “What do you want?”

“I can get it.” He pushed on the door handle.

“Josh, you need me to get your crutches out anyway if you’re going to go in there, and you’re supposed to stay off your feet, right? So just tell me.”

His shoulders dropped. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that. I didn’t want to put you out any more.”

“Hey, it’s okay. This place is good?”

“Yeah. Really good.”

“And it doesn’t look too expensive.”

“It’s pretty affordable.”

“Then I’ll try it sometime. I’ve just learned a new place to eat. And I’m driving your car. I can mark off the ‘drive a Mustang’ square on my bingo card. I’m getting something out of this too.”

“If you want to get some food, go ahead.” He passed me a credit card. “I can at least feed you to say thanks.”

I’d had lunch, but hey, I could get something to keep for dinner. See if the place was as good as he said. And I’d take a free meal. TAs weren’t exactly rolling in it.

Josh wanted some loucanico and dolmades and pastitsio, as well as a salad. Not things I was familiar with, but I repeated the names to myself a couple of times and headed in.

Once I opened the door, the aroma was divine.

I inhaled deeply, and suddenly my salad seemed a long time ago.

I ordered what Josh wanted, added souvlaki and salad for myself, and promised I’d return when I could spend time figuring out what some of the more unusual items were to expand my repertoire.

My phone buzzed.

Get two of everything. Then I’ll have leftovers.

I expanded the order and scrolled through my messages while I waited for the food. Then a tap of his credit card, and I was able to leave with a couple of bags of incredible-smelling goodies.

Josh was playing with his phone when I showed up. I set the food in the back of the car and got in the driver’s seat. His stomach rumbled again.

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’m definitely coming here again.”

“It does. It absolutely does.”

The voice in the console told me to get moving, so I pressed the clutch and followed the instructions.

Daytime traffic was lighter than rush hour, but drivers were slower, dawdling while they figured out where they wanted to go. But eventually we arrived at our destination.

Josh pulled out another plastic card and passed it to me to scan to get into the underground parking. He directed me to a parking spot beside a big Ford pickup.

Tension leached out of my shoulders as I parked the car safely in its slot. I’d done it, without taking on any damage. Driving again had been fun, but also nerve-racking.

“You did great.” Josh grinned at me.

“I’m glad I didn’t wreck it.”

“Nah, you’re a good driver. And it’s just a car.”

The way Josh had talked about Mustangs back in high school, I was sure it was more than just a car, but it was safely parked and no longer my responsibility. I opened the door and got out. I rounded the back while Josh shoved his own door open.

“Give me a sec to get your crutches.”

He pulled himself up by his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he gripped the roof of the car. I tried not to ogle him and managed to wrestle the crutches out. I shut the back door most of the way so I could pass them to him.

While he propped them under those muscular arms, I grabbed my bag and the bags of food. Josh shuffled forward awkwardly in the tight space between vehicles and closed his door.

I backed away, letting him mostly hop till he had enough space to deploy his crutches.

“Thanks, Katie. Appreciate this.”

“No problem.” I was about to pass him his food when I realized that he might not be able to handle it as well as the crutches. Plus, the food was jumbled up together. After smelling it all the way here, I didn’t want to lose my portion. “Want me to carry this up for you?”

He shot a glance from the bags to his hands, locked on the crutches. “Would you mind? I don’t want to take up your time. You must be busy.”

Points to Josh—he’d never considered his hockey world more important than my academic one. He had mostly been punctual for our tutoring sessions, even before they became something beyond just studying. “It’s okay.”

I followed him to the elevator, not far from his car. He hit a button for the eighteenth floor once he’d crutched inside. His stomach gurgled again as the smell of the food filled the elevator.

“You must have nice views.”

“Yeah. It was weird when I moved in. My first place, after moving out, was a townhouse in Nashville. And we had that place in Halifax, remember, over the garage of Mr. Musgrove’s house? I wasn’t used to being this high up.”

“Do most of your teammates live in condos? I thought they’d have mansions somewhere.”

“More the family guys. Condo works for me. Traffic is always a bitch, so being close to the arena is nice. Plus, with all the traveling we do, no one wants to worry about shoveling snow or mowing lawns.”

The elevator dinged that we’d arrived. I held it open while he maneuvered out. Then he led the way down the hallway to the end unit. It looked like there were only a few condos on this floor.

He opened the door and stood back for me to enter. There was a roomy foyer, so I shuffled aside for him and toed off my shoes, putting them on the shoe mat, already covered with discarded footwear.

We went down a hall with a couple of doors off it before taking a turn and arriving in the living room.

“Wow.”

Madeline had a nice place. But this place had French doors to a huge balcony, letting in the view. The sun, now on the western side of noon, illuminated the wide spaces. I could see furniture outside—big couches and a table.

“You like it?”

“That view, the windows? What’s not to like?” Josh didn’t answer, and I turned to see him looking down, bashful. “It’s really nice, Josh.”

“Thanks. It’s not too much, is it?”

Was he embarrassed by his success? “You make a lot of money now. Why shouldn’t you enjoy it?”

He sighed. “It doesn’t seem real sometimes, you know?”

“But it is, isn’t it?” I kept my voice low.

“I’m not sure I deserve it.”

Josh had been at the top of my hit list, along with Rhonda, a couple of weeks ago, but he’d dropped down once I’d understood better what had happened.

His mom and my parents had moved up in his place.

He still bore responsibility, but knowing Josh, my anger was cold and fading.

How upset could you be with a golden retriever who gave you those sad eyes?

He was who he was. And we weren’t dating, and I wasn’t trusting him with my heart. We could probably work out being friends. To his credit, he wasn’t forgetting where he came from, and he wasn’t arrogant.

He led the way through another doorway that opened to the kitchen. I dropped the bags of food on the counter, prepared to take my portion and go.

“I’m starving. Want to join me?”

I hesitated. Two weeks ago I’d have happily spit in his plate. Was I ready to sit down and share food and chat? I’d come to help him when he was stuck, so it was a little late to try to nurse those previous hurts.

While I dithered, his face fell. “Sorry. You want to go.” He pulled his phone out. “I’ll get you a ride.”

“I can stay long enough to eat.”

He looked up, a smile creasing his face. “That’s awesome.”

“Tell me where the plates are.” Because apparently I was hanging out with my new friend.