“I think a lot of us could use a reality check, don’t you?”

I can practically feel the full-body wince he does then. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Izzie’s upstairs if you want to go talk to her.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll go talk to her, but I need you to know that—”

“I’m okay,” I tell him. “She needs to hear from you first. I can wait.”

He doesn’t look too happy at that, like I’m sending him away, but he turns toward the stairs. He stops before he leaves the kitchen. He says, “I love you.”

“Damn right you do,” I say loftily. “I’m the light of your life.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles as he heads upstairs.

“Love you too!” I yell after him, just because I can.

I DON’T know what they talked about. I could guess, and knowing Otter as well as I do, I’d probably be right. But I think whatever it was should stay between them. I had my say, and Izzie knows where I’m coming from, with her and with him.

They don’t come downstairs for close to an hour, and by the time I hear them thumping down the stairs, Izzie is laughing at something Otter’s saying, and I hear the low rumble of his voice, warm and sweet. They sound good together like this. Like they always should.

And when they come into the kitchen, Izzie’s eyes are a little red, her face a little puffy, and Otter looks exhausted, but they’re both smiling. They look like they’re back on even ground, and that’s all that matters.

Izzie’s at the fridge, digging for a bottle of water, asking me if there’s still enough time for us to go out school shopping. It’s late afternoon, but since I’d already planned for us to be gone most of the day, I’m not too worried about it.

“Sure,” I tell her. “You have the list the school sent you?”

“I left it upstairs,” she says, coming to stand by my chair, leaning against me just a little bit. I knock our shoulders together, trying not to make a big deal about the casual touching. She’s never really done this before, and I don’t know what exactly has changed, but I’ll take it.

“Why don’t you grab it and we’ll get going?”

She looks between Otter and myself, eyes narrowing just a little. “Are you guys going to get weird about your feelings right now?”

Otter is still standing at the entryway to the kitchen, like he’s unsure about his welcome. There’s an ache in my chest at the sight of him trying to smile at me but failing miserably.

“Maybe give us a minute, huh?” I ask her.

“You guys are so strange,” she mutters, but she sets her water bottle on the table and walks out of the kitchen, reaching up and punching Otter in the arm as she walks by. “If I don’t hear from you in ten minutes, I’m going to assume you’re having makeup sex and will be scarred for life.”