IknowI didn’t imagine him checking me out at the door a second ago, so I think I know what his newfound aloofness is about.
“Keeping it professional, I see. That’s classy. Except class isn’t needed here, because youaren’tmy bodyguard.”
“The hell I’m not.”
I laugh. “Professional, classy, handsome,andstubborn? Lucky me. Look, I’ll call Everett to clear this up, but first, are you hungry? Stormy skies always make me want to bake. Or if you’re thirsty, I can make some pretty decent coffee. Oh—or how about blueberry muffins?”
“I hate muffins.”
I unabashedly admire the good-looking, muscle-packed legacy who appeared on my doorstep, biting my lip. “You know, that checks out. Pretty sure you can’t get a body likethatfrom liking muffins.”
He gives me a pointed look. “You done now?”
“Done with what?” I put on my most innocent face.
“I’ll give you a hint. You’re done.”
Laughing again at his firm tone, I grab my phone from the coffee table. I try to hide the grimace from bending over withall these sore muscles and bruises. I must not do a great job, because Asher scowls.
“Sit down. You’re still recovering.”
“I can recover and make pancakes at the same time.Pleasetell me you at least eat pancakes?” I say, fighting another yawn as exhaustion tries to creep up my limbs.
“I’m not eating shit until you sit down and rest.”
“You should never eat shit—I’m sure it tastes terrible,” I joke as I dial my brother.
Asher is still giving me an irritated look when Everett answers with, “How are you feeling this morning? Has your shifter healing caught up yet? Silas is on a call with acolytes from the Sanctuary, but if you need healing magic to help things along, a caster should be there?—”
“You mean the one you hired to be my bodyguard?” I ask sardonically, walking into my kitchen.
I wince as I open a cabinet with my sore arms. Asher quickly appears beside me to press the cabinet shut again with a big hand, shaking his head firmly.
“So bossy. I knew I liked him,” Jessica says as she settles her ghost butt on the kitchen counter nearby.
“Yes,” my brother replies over the phone, clearly not catching that I’m not on board with this. “Douglas is a talented healer, and I’d trust him with my life. He’ll keep you safe until this shitstorm blows over. If you’re not comfortable with him staying in your guest room, he can set up a temporary encampment nearby, but?—”
“Everett. I don’t need a healer, and Idefinitelydon’t need a bodyguard.”
His voice steels. “Heidi. You could’ve died yesterday.”
“But I didn’t,” I protest, opening a drawer to pull out the measuring cups I’ll need. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. It was stupid. I just accidentally ran in front of that bus like an idiot?—”
“Because those damn sharks wereharassingyou and you were on the verge of shifting from an empathic meltdown,” he scowls. “Don’t try to minimize this.”
“I’m not, it’s just?—”
Jessica scoffs nearby. “Yes, you so are.”
I pause before sighing. Okay, maybe they’re right.
“Have you seen the news today?” Everett checks. “Opened up any social media or anything?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. The bus incident went viral. You’re all over the internet, and it’s their fault. You spent months volunteering your time to help them recover lost fae relics and get the sleepers out, and Marwood has repaid you by ripping your peaceful life apart. Everyone’s dragging you into their godsdamned politics. I’m trying to do as much damage control as I can, but thanks to Brahm and Marwood, the fae are calling you a liar and saying you attempted to steal from them?—”
“I almost caused the problem,” I blurt, fidgeting with the measuring spoons in my hand.
