16
Kira sat across from Nick at their regular table. Another good night’s sleep had helped the pain of her injuries recede to a more tolerable level than the day before.
I’ll be back in the gym in no time.
The diner was filled with a steady hum of activity—overlapping conversations, combined with the clinks of plates and cutlery, and the soft sound of oldies music playing in the background. The air carried the scents of bacon and fresh coffee.
Kira picked at the enormous blueberry muffin on her plate and wondered if she should have tried to cover up some of the worst cuts on her face with makeup. Not for Nick—or at least, mostly not for Nick. He had already seen her since her accident. But some of the other customers were giving her odd glances.
Funny, Owen hadn’t seemed to notice her
