“Then be sorry slower.”
A soft breath pushes through her nose.If she were another woman, it could’ve been a laugh.
I finish my drink and rinse our glasses.“Tell me about your new job.”
“I can come and go whenever.”She rests a hip against the counter beside me.“Work as much or as little as I want.Paid by the job.No pressure.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I need to work as much as possible.”
“I go to Sitka every morning, catching a ride with Kody and Leo, or I take one of their yachts.You’re not trapped here.You can commute with me.Or Kai can take you whenever.”
She nods.
“I didn’t see Jag today.”I nod at her phone.“You’re talking to him?”
“He texts me.I don’t respond.”
Good to know the scary stepbrother isn’t getting better treatment than me.
I grab my sketchpad and head to the couch.
Shockingly, she curls up beside me, feet tucked under her, keeping her distance, but her eyes stay on mine.
“Jag will be back in Sitka tonight.”She draws in a slow breath.“What are you going to do about your job?”
“I’ll go in.I’ll draw.I’ll ink.And I’ll leave.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ll deal with him.”I twist on the couch to face her.“Did he make you this way?”
“What way is that?Cold?Defensive?Distant?”
“You’re not cold.You’re armored.”
“And you?”She tilts her head.“What are you?”
“Charming.”
“And humble.”Her lips twitch.
I reach for her hand, and she tenses.But she doesn’t pull away.My thumb traces the calluses on her fingers, her palm warm and small against mine.
“You didn’t have to bring me lunch,” she whispers.
“I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Because the thought of you going hungry makes me feel sick.”
She looks down at our hands.
Then she stands, walks to the stairs, and, without a backward glance, goes up.The door to her room closes.Not a slam.Just… Final.
I sit there, staring at the dent her body left in the couch cushion.
