My eyes sting, but I blink it away. “I’d love that.”
I lean in and kiss him, gentle and warm, cradling his face in my hand. The motion pulls at my ribs, a dull ache flaring through my side, but I don’t stop.
I’d happily endure the temporary pain to feel the warmth of Troy’s skin beneath my fingertips.
He’s more than worth it.
Two days into my recovery, Phoebe shows up on my front porch, holding a large plastic container filled to the brim with homemade chicken noodle soup. I accept it happily, already eager for a real home-cooked meal. She follows me into the kitchen, where I set it on the top shelf of my fridge, which is admittedly looking a little pathetic—nothing but condiments and a few bottles of Troy’s new fall-inspired beer.
Luke is lounging on my couch. He’s been hanging around while Troy’s working at Black Cat, even though I’ve insisted I don’t need a caretaker. But after everything, they both seem a little shaken, and I can’t blame them. If it were me who’d found Troy or Luke in the state I was in… I’d be a wreck too.
So I’ll let them baby me if it makes them feel better.
Luke gives Phoebe a lazy wave as she walks past.
Despite the thoughtful gesture, she looks furious when she leans against my kitchen counter. Her cold eyes flicker between the two of us before finally settling on me. Her jaw is set tight, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Ash,” she says, her voice eerily calm. “It’s just your arm that’s injured, right? Your legs are fine?”
I blink at her, confusion knitting my brows together. “Um… yeah? I mean, my ribs are fractured too, but my legs are okay—”
She drives the toe of her boot straight into my shin. Not hard enough to actually hurt, but definitely hard enough to get the point across.
“Ow!” I yelp.
“That’s for scaring the shit out of me,” she snaps.
I wince as I bend down to rub my shin. “What the hell—”
She turns and kicks Luke in the leg too, a little harder this time.
“And that’s for not calling me while Ash was in the goddamn hospital,” she scolds.
Luke curses under his breath and shoves her away, grimacing.
We’ve always been like this—roughhousing and bickering like siblings for as long as I can remember. She’s strong as hell… and fiercely protective.
I gape at her. “It’s not my fault they didn’t call you! I was unconscious, Phoebs!”
Her shoulders sag a little, the anger cracking just enough to reveal the worry underneath. “Troy could’ve given me a heads-up too,” she mutters. “I was completely in the dark. I had to find out what happened from Olivia, days later.”
I frown. “I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. “I’m okay, though. Really.”
“Are you actually, though?” she says, raising a bushy eyebrow. “I heard what happened with your parents.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “I’m okay,” I say truthfully. “Honestly, I’m mostly just pissed about not being able to work on the barn renovation.”
From the couch, Luke perks up. He jumps to his feet like he’s suddenly too energized to sit still.
“Oh shit, that’s right,” he says, eyes wide. “Didn’t you get the building permits approved last week?”
“Yeah, but… it doesn’t matter anymore.” I lift my casted arm slightly. “Obviously.”
His brow furrows. “Dude, what the hell are you talking about? I can help!”
I scoff. “Luke—”
“No, seriously,” he insists, already getting fired up. “I’m more than capable of using power tools. Don’t doubt my skills.”
