I grab one of the ice packs and her crutches, already knowing exactly who’s trying—and failing—to escape.
When I step into the bedroom, Oakley’s glaring at me from the middle of my bed, messy hair, eyes blazing, a literal vision of fury and beauty.
“Why am I here?” she snaps, eyes darting around the room until the realization hits. “This isn’t the guest room.”
“My room’s closer to the living area,” I explain, keeping my tone careful. “Bathroom’s one door over. Easier to move around.”
“Why am I at your house instead of my mom’s, Silas?”
Her voice cuts, sharp but shaking at the edges. For half a second, I almost soften it with a lie, but there’s something fragile in her eyes that deserves honesty.
I sit on the far edge of the bed and start gently icing her ankle, keeping my focus there instead of on her face. “After the way you sounded on the phone, and then seeing you in that recovery room, I couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere else. I know it doesn’t make sense. If you want to go to your mom’s, I’ll drive you.”
She studies me for a long moment, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Where are you gonna sleep?”
“I’ll take the guest room next to Aubrey’s.”
Her lashes lift, and for just a second, that stubborn mask slips. “I’ll stay.”
“Yeah?”
She nods once, quiet and certain.
I let out a slow breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “Good.”
My fingers brush hers as I adjust the ice pack, and her pulse jumps under my touch.
What could go wrong?
Chapter 26
Silas
She’s supposed to be resting. That was the deal. She stays here, I make sure she heals, and she doesn’t push herself. Easy enough, in theory.
Except it’s two a.m., and she is in the hallway balancing on one crutch, her bad foot hovering an inch off the ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I keep my voice low so I don’t wake Aubrey.
She freezes mid-hop, guilty as hell. “Bathroom,” she whispers. “I can’t hold it forever, Harrison.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting a smile. “You could’ve woken me up.”
“I’ve been waking you up for five days. You deserve sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I know you’re not one wobble away from face-planting into a wall.”
She huffs but lets me loop an arm under hers. I help her the last few steps into the bathroom and wait for her as she closes the door. When she comes back out, she mutters, “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Always have been.”
I get her back to bed and pull the covers up to her chin like I do for Aubrey. Once I tuck the blanket around her boot, I try to pull away, but she catches my wrist.
“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes half-lidded. “I know I drive you crazy.”
“You’ve been driving me crazy since you were ten, Katibug. This is nothing new.”
