“It’s not fun.”
“Then why did you read it?”
I look at her. “Someone has to keep people like you alive.”
She bites her lip. “People like me?”
“People who fall off ladders.”
“It was one ladder.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it wasn’t my fault.”
“You climbed it.”
She laughs quietly so she won’t wake Holly. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re reckless.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, warm and amused. “And you love having someone to lecture.”
“Maybe.”
She tilts her head. “Maybe?”
I shrug. “You give me a lot of material.”
Her mouth curves. “You’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”
“That’s a dangerous assumption.”
“No,” she says softly, eyes flicking over my face. “I think grumpy is your shield.”
I go still.
She keeps going. “And I think you’re softer than you want anyone to know.”
My jaw tightens. “Lucy.”
“I mean it,” she whispers. “What you’re doing for her… I can’t imagine how hard it is. But you’re doing it. And you’re doing it well.”
I look away because I don’t know how to hold her gaze and keep my composure at the same time.
“You don’t know me,” I say quietly.
“I’m learning,” she says, just as quiet.
Something flickers between us. Something I don’t have a name for. Something hot and fragile and dangerous. I stand abruptly. “I should… check the truck.”
Lucy nods slowly, studying me like she’s reading the fine print on my soul.
I get halfway to the door when she calls softly, “Ash?”
I stop. “Thank you,” she says. “For letting me be here. With her.”
My chest tightens. “She likes you.”
