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“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you or make you understand how lost I was.”

Josh took his hand. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I could barely stand, and you got me to run.” His eyes glittered. “You taught me to fly. Look at me, Josh.”

Josh did, his mouth dry and his hands shaky.

Tyler’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “The thing is….” His voice hitched slightly, and he stopped short of whatever he wanted to say.

Josh didn’t dare breathe for fear he’d miss it.

“It’s just—” Tyler shook his head and looked down. “I’m trying to say that I’m—”

“Avgolemono!” Stavros stood in the plaster archway, holding a tray with two wide steaming bowls. He closed his mouth, as if aware he’d interrupted something, his mustache flexing like a caterpillar as he tried to decide what to do.

Tyler clapped his hands and spread his arms, welcoming the intrusion. “Beautiful, sir. You are the best.”

Stavros deposited the bowls, topped up the wine, and vanished. And after that, his entrances were more inconspicuous.

But the moment was gone, and Tyler seemed unable to finish his thought.

Josh sighed, frustrated. It’s okay. We’ll get where we need to. Whatever Tyler wanted would be worth the wait.

For the next two hours, Stavros and his family brought a stream of bowls and plates to the table: Steamed eggplant. Some kind of sour chicken soup. A tray of mixed olives. Tiny meatballs in sauce. Tomato fritters. Grilled lamb. And a sweet cheese thing with peppers. Between bites of their delicious meal, they joked and flirted, tucked in their own little world.

The rest of dinner passed in a soft haze.

And then for dessert, a delicate flaky pastry with honey, butter, and ground nuts. Baklava was what Stavros called it. Tyler couldn’t get enough of it, which delighted the owner greatly.

When they were finished, Josh asked for the check, but Stavros wouldn’t hear of it. Family, he called them. “Like sons.”

Stavros insisted the whole meal was on the house, and he looked hurt when Josh tried to put a couple hundred bucks on his counter.

After much back and forth, Josh gave in, and Tyler shook the man’s hand and promised to bring back some of his teammates. As they left, he grabbed a business card.

Josh asked, “A card?”

“I’ll have Chuck send headshots for me and a couple of the guys signed to him and praising the restaurant.”

“So you’re not going to bring the guys here.”

“Oh, I absolutely will. You kidding? Odell, Vance, Felix, and definitely Rodrigo. They will flip over this place.” He bumped against Josh. “I always keep my word.”

“You do.” Josh paused and looked at him head-on. “You always keep your promises. That’s true.”

“Ever since I was a kid. My father was such a rotten liar that I think I did it just to be a pain in his ass. The habit just stuck. So does that make me honest or just stubborn?”

Clouds scudded past the stars overhead. They’d been a long time; it had to be ten o’clock or later.

Josh unlocked the truck. “Where to now?”

“Well, I’m not about to turn into a pumpkin.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Tyler bent his head and inhaled deeply. “Anywhere so long as it’s with you. How do you always smell so good?”

Josh asked, “Mine?”