“You were creeping around like a burglar.”
“I thought I was being stealthy. I didn’t expect you to attack.” He tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Besides, I told you it was me.”
“After I hit you.”
“Twice.”
“You should have identified yourself faster. And not just said, ‘It’s me.’”
“I couldn’t think. Not with you swinging a racket like you were trying to take my head off.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
This is hilarious.
Not Drew being hurt.
But because beneath the whiskey, scratches, and ridiculous spy mission, he came here looking for answers.
Even if his method was terrible.
That’s the part I can’t stop thinking about.
Drew saw the thing that should have scared him away. The thing anyone else would call proof I’m too much.
And he’s still here.
Even if he looks like he lost a fight with yard equipment.
Even if Callie may never let him live this down.
I step closer and touch his arm. His attention snaps to me immediately.
“Come on,” I say softly.
His brows pull together. “Where?”
“To the bathroom. You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I’m mostly fine.” He waves a hand. “I just stumbled into a bush. By accident.”
Callie makes a choking sound.
I turn my head slowly. “Callie.”
She presses her lips together, eyes sparkling. “I’m done.”
I know my sister. She isnotdone.
She will never be done.
I take Drew’s hand. “Come on.”
He looks down at our joined fingers like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
