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I chuckle. “I am Marcus Delaney, star quarterback.”

“Maybe just wait in the car.”

“I can be chill, Cass.”

“Oh?” She raises a brow and glances at me.

“Yeah. I can.”

I’m being chill right now considering how I feel finally being this close to her after a week of not seeing her. She doesn’t know that, of course.

Cass pulls into a ranch property with a low wood fence and a big farmhouse with a wide front porch. She gets out of the car, and then leans in before I’m out.

“Behave yourself, Delaney.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Carter.”

She rolls her eyes. Then she pops the trunk and opens the back door. Between the two of us, we bring three backpacks, a few bags of clothes and a bag with a casserole, salad and brownies up to the porch.

“You made all this?” I ask after Cass knocks.

“Win made the brownies.”

A woman answers the door. “Cass!” and then she looks at me. “Oh, hello.”

“Ginny, this is Marcus.”

“Girl. I know who he is. I wasn’t born in a barn and raised behind a hay bale.”

Cass laughs. “We brought everything the Simmons family needs. Do you want me to bring it back to them?”

“Here,” Ginny offers. “Let me help you with some of that.”

We follow her back down the front stairs and around the house. Across the yard, down a pathway made of stepping stones, a second house sits offset from the main house. The lights are on.

A woman answers the door, her weariness shows despite her smile.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks, then her eyes land on me as if seeing me for the first time.

“We won’t stay long,” Cass says.

I take a seat at the dining table with the boys, signing their football and their jerseys. We talk football while Cass interviews the mom about their needs. After about fifteen minutes, Cass stands, so I take my cue from her and tell the boys it was nice meeting them.

Cass is quiet on the walk back to the car. We drive to my condo in silence. My hand practically itches to touch her shoulder or knee—just to give her an anchor or some comfort. It’s obvious she’s affected by the visit.

She pulls into my guest parking and leaves the engine running.

“Thanks for coming along,” she says. “Sorry. I’m a little preoccupied.”

“It’s hard not to take it all on,” I say, not making a move to get out.

“Yeah. They lost so much.” She lets out a sigh.

I unbuckle and get out without another word. Then I walk around to her side of the car.

“Get out,” I say after I open her door.

“What?”