She’s right. I shouldn’t be an asshole. She’s probably contemplating beating me with my own crutch.
I’d let her.
Everything’s shit right now. Might as well make it shittier.
She points to the living room. “Go sit down and keep your mouth shut, and I’ll make you breakfast so that maybe, justmaybe, you’ll be tolerable to talk to.”
“Don’t want to talk.”
“That’s obvious, Captain Okay.”
I jerk my head at her.
Does she know I’m the Pounders’ captain?
Was.
Was.
There’s no fucking way they’ll keep me when I go crutching into Coach’s office later today to report my rugby camp accident to him.
Ziggy looks like she’s three seconds from forgoing stealing my crutch in favor of strangling me with her bare hands instead. “Or don’t go sit and don’t get breakfast. I don’t care. But I have to eat, so I’m making myself food, and you’re in my way.”
I take one last look at the microwave.
Ankle’s aching like a bitch. Need to elevate it. Get my pain meds.
And I’m being an irrational jerk to the one person who’s here and who can actually help me feel better.
Don’t want to have to rely on other people.
I’m the guy they come to when they need things. Not the other way around.
Jessica growls at me.
“You’re standing between my baby and food,” Ziggy says to me. “Go. Away.”
Fuck.
That does it.
That pushes me over the edge fromI’m hurting so I want to be an assholetoI’m being exactly the kind of asshole I tell the guys on the team not to be.
I swing myself on the crutches right out of the kitchen and get the hell out of her way.
9
Ziggy
Isit a flex to serve a grumpy jerk a gourmet breakfast just to show him what he’ll be missing out on if he doesn’t fix his attitude?
If so, I have flexed the biggest flex to have ever flexed in the history of flexes.
But it’s probably not.
It’s probably stupid. He won’t notice or care.
ButI’llnotice.
