He didn't watch as she gulped the pills and water down. He knew he had been against it before, but the urge to ask for answers was strong on his tongue and he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from barraging her with questions. They sat quietly and he listened as her breathing slowed and regulated itself. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and saw that her shaking had mostly subsided and she sat, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to hand him back his bottle of water. He noticed she had only taken enough to swallow down the pills and he shook his head, waving the bottle back to her.
"You drink it," he said. "You should drink more than that."
She didn't meet his eyes as she drained the rest of the bottle, though he sensed she knew he was watching her. There was a look of almost guilt on her face, as though she knew he had a million questions and she didn't want to answer any of them.
"Drew…" he began finally, and her head snapped up. She met his eyes and he saw that hers were naked with emotion.
"Please," she said softly. "Please don't ask me anything. Not right now." She swallowed hard. "I—I know I owe you an explanation. But I can't right now. I just can't."
He studied her face and frowned slightly. "I want to know what's up with you," he said slowly. "But I don't want to make you feel any worse than you do right now. I just—if you're goin' through something, I might be able to help you. I'm as fucked up as they come," he added lightly, and was pleased to see a tiny smile cross her face. He noted that she still hugged her knees, but she seemed to have stopped shaking. He got to his feet and extended his hand again. She looked at it, then up at him. Hesitantly, she reached out and grabbed it. He pulled her easily to her feet and looked down into her face.
"You hungry?" he asked.
She looked a little taken aback and glanced at her watch. She looked back up at him and smiled uncertainly.
"Heath, it's, like, midnight," she said.
He shrugged. "So what? You hungry?"
Her smile grew slightly and she shrugged. "Sure."
"There's a place down the street that makes the best cheesesteaks you've ever had," he said. "My treat."
She studied his face a moment longer then nodded. "Okay. Let me go get my stuff."
He waited by the door for her, and she reappeared a little later, wearing a large zip-up hooded sweatshirt over her black yoga pants and sneakers, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. They walked down the street in a comfortable silence, although Heath's mind was still whirling from her "episode" in the ring. It was clear she had undergone something completely traumatic; it had been clear from the night he'd witnessed her attack at the gym. He had a sneaking suspicion of what might have happened to her, and he sincerely hoped he was mistaken. He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye and couldn't help noticing how different she looked than she had at Cliff's. There, she had looked like a star, a model or something. Now, she was back to her normal self. She was possibly even more beautiful and appealing to him stripped down this way; a clean, bare face, her long dark hair in a ponytail, workout clothes. He felt like he was really seeing her.
"There it is," he said presently, pointing to a little corner restaurant. "They're always open late." He held the door open for her and she walked past, giving him a nod of thanks.
"Isn't this against your training diet?" she asked, folding her arms and scanning the menus on the wall behind the counter.
"I won't tell if you won't," Heath replied. "Do you know what you want?"
"I'll have what you're having," Drew replied.
Heath stepped up to the counter. "Two, whiz, with," he said quickly, and the cook nodded and set to making their sandwiches.
"Does this really count since we're in Pittsburgh?" Drew asked with a smirk.
"Absolutely," Heath replied. "Everybody in PA takes their cheesesteaks seriously. Everybody."
When their orders were up, Heath stepped up to the counter to get them and handed Drew one of the cardboard trays overflowing with sandwich and moved toward the row of countertops against the front window. They took stools and Heath glanced over at her, seeing her examining her sandwich crammed with thinly sliced rib-eye, cheese whiz, and grilled onions. She looked up with a smile.
"Looks good," she said. "Looks like you did it right." She picked up her sandwich and took an enormous bite as Heath glared at her playfully.
"I did it right?" he repeated. "Excuse you?"
"Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing," Drew said around her mouthful.