"Absolutely not," Silas repeats, but there's less force behind it.
"Silas, be serious." Cross studies him. "Live at your house with Scout or at the hospital. I know what I’d choose."
Silas looks like he's swallowing broken glass. His eyesfind mine, angry as a thunderclap, searching for something I don't understand. The silence stretches until my chest feels tight.
"She'd be better than the hospital," he finally grinds out.
"Then it's settled," Juliet says, already making notes. "We'll work out the arrangements. Scout, you'll need to be compensated appropriately for this. It's way above and beyond your regular duties. We're talking a substantial bonus for the inconvenience of relocating temporarily. And for… you know, dealing with him."
"Uhh... sure?" I squeak. "Whatever you need."
Ivy nods. "I'll have HR draft up the paperwork. Hazard pay, essentially. You're giving up your personal life for the team." She turns to Silas. “And you. You’d better be nice to Scout. If I were you, I’d be thanking my lucky stars that you have someone so accommodating who’s willing to stay at home with me while I recuperate.”
Silas glares at the table, muttering something I think could be interpreted asthanks.
My mouth goes dry. I jumped without looking because I saw Silas suffering, hating the idea of strangers witnessing his vulnerability. Now reality's setting in. I just volunteered to move in with Silas Huxley.
The very same man who alternates between ignoring me and making me feel like my skin's too tight.
"We'll get you moved in today," Juliet continues, all business. "We'll get everything sorted. Keys, security codes, medical supplies."
I force myself to look at Silas. He's still staring at the table like he wants to set it on fire with his mind.
"Is that... okay with you?" I ask quietly.
He doesn't look up. "Does it matter?"
Juliet and Ivy keep talking, making arrangements,discussing logistics and timelines. But all I can think about is what I've just agreed to. I'm going to be living with Silas, taking care of him when he can barely stand to be in the same room as me.
I wasn't thinking when I volunteered. I just couldn't bear the thought of anyone in pain.
Now I have to hope there's a soft place to land when I get to his condo.
Chapter Eight
Silas
When Scout arrives, I'm waiting in my living room. My arm's in a sling. Opening the door feels awkward.
Scout's standing there with her curly hair down, wearing yoga pants, a purple tank top, and a white cardigan. She has an oversized duffel over her shoulder, two yoga mats under her arm, and a suitcase trailing behind her.
That's all she needs?
"Am I early?" she asks.
I step back. "You're fine. It's not like I have anywhere to be."
Scout comes inside and sets down her stuff.
"You're supposed to be on complete bed rest." She looks me up and down, frowning when she sees my black jeans and black t-shirt. "You should be in sweats." She shoos me toward my bedroom.
"I'll go back to bed when I'm tired."
I lean down to pick up her duffel bag and she yanks it out of my hand, giving me a hostile glare. "I've got this. Bed, now."
I grit my teeth. "You're not the boss of me."
"I am, though. That's why I'm here, Silas." She starts to herd me into the hallway, toward my bedroom. All the condos are the same here in the Sinclair, so it doesn't shock me Scout knows her way around. But her attitude surprises me. I've never seen her scowl at anyone else.
