The minutes passed, each one long and drawn out, like warm taffy on a hot day. Outside Matt could hear laughter, the splash of water in the pool, male voices calling out to each other. Once he heard Kyle in the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors and yelling for them to hurry up, the food was about to hit the grill. Then footsteps creaked across the hardwood floor to stop on the other side of the closed bathroom door; even without Vic’s super powers, Matt knew it was their host, hovering, an ear against the door and one hand raised to knock as he debated on whether or not to interrupt them. Matt heard or imagined he heard faint measured breath, and he wrapped Vic’s injured hand in both of his, waiting Kyle out.
Vic spoke, startling him. “We’ll be right out,” he said, his voice gruff and loud
