Take that!
Both teammates turn to Harris. “We thought Lumberjack was just a sexy nickname.” Miles blinks. “Do not tell me you were being serious. Dude, do not.”
Annabelle decides to chime in. “Yes, gentleman, he’s serious. He’s a flannel-wearing, axe-swinging logroller. You know—a lumberjack.”
Deshaun’s mouth drops open. “Why the fuck would you do that? What did I tell you, man! You cannot afford an injury!”
Harris nods in my direction. “I did it to impressher.”
Miles and Deshaun turn to me in sync, slowly, waiting for me to confirm or deny their friend’s madness.
I shrug. None of this was my doing.
Meanwhile, my mother claps her hands together in absolute delight. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!”
Dad groans. “Liz,please.”
“Oh, hush,” she scolds him, beaming at Harris like he’s Prince Charming. “He’s been chopping wood for my daughter! She needs to marry this man!”
“Mom!”
Harris smirks at me. “You heard her, babe. Guess we better start ring shopping.”
Annabelle is laughing. “I call maid of honor, and obviously I’ll be planning the wedding.”
“There is no wedding!” I throw my arms in the air, patience slipping away along with my dignity.
My father, who has had enough of this conversation, clears his throat. “So, to summarize—this idiot falls out of a window, nearly concusses himself, is also a lumberjack, has apparently been skipping team-building activities during a retreat ... to flirt with my daughter?”
“I wouldn’t sayskipping,” Harris argues, readjusting himself against the pillows. “More like prioritizing.”
Miles shakes his head. “Damn. The man has fallen in every sense of the word.”
“Him landing in a trash can was symbolic,” Deshaun deadpans.
Harris laughs. “Fuck you guys.” He glances at my mother. “Shit. Sorry, Mrs. LeBrandt.”
Dad stands, exhaling like this entire experience has aged him ten years. “All right, I’m done. I need coffee. And silence. Preferably both at the same time.” He gestures at me. “Lucy, don’t let this idiot climb your house again.”
Mom rises to follow, patting Harris on the arm. “Take care of yourself—and we’ll be across the driveway if you need anything.”
Annabelle takes another drink from her cup. “Welp, I think that’s my cue to leave.” Her loud sigh is one of contentment. “This has been the highlight of my week.” She glances at Harris. “Get some sleep, Paul Bunyan. You have a big day coming up.”
I feel my eyebrows rise. “Big day? Look at him—he can’t chop wood anytime soon!” The man is a mess!
“We are not going to miss this asshole in some logging-timber show,” Deshaun says. “He’s going to suffer through it for my entertainment.”
Harris rubs a hand over his face. “Lucy is right—maybe I shouldn’t do the logging competition.”
Annabelle grins, moving forward to pat him on the leg. “It’s so cute that you think you have a choice.”
“I’m injured!” he argues.
Deshaun clucks his tongue and crosses his beefy arms. “Nah, bruh—you’re fine. Worst-case scenario, you swing with one arm.”
I glare at them. “That’s not how axes work.”
Miles hums thoughtfully. “Dude. You’ll earn extra sympathy points from the crowd if you struggle. People love a wounded warrior.”
