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“He is,” I say lightly, also standing up.
This is definitely a conversation I want to avoid. Dangerous territory, especially when I’m still feeling pissed off at him. Even if it’s not fair to be pissed off for something he has no frigging idea about.
And heisletting us stay here, after all. Ugh, what a mess. Things just keep getting more complicated.
I make a big deal out of glancing at my phone for the time. “Thanks again for making him breakfast. Now I’d better get ready for work…”
Brady looks lost in thought, and for a moment, I actually feel a tinge of sympathy. How would he feel if he knew that Liam washisgood kid? Or is he thinking how glad he is that he doesn’t have to cook for a kid every morning?
“Do you want me to help you clean up?” I say finally into the awkward silence.
He shakes his head. “Naww. The cleaning lady will do it. I’ve got to get ready for practice.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you there,” I tell him as I leave the kitchen. “I’ll get you that diet plan today, okay?”
“Great,” Brady says. “Thanks, Izzie.”
I look back, meeting his eyes. “No, thankyou, Brady,” I say. “For letting us stay here.”
He smiles at me, and I turn back, feeling a little twist in my heart.
Damn you, Brady Thomas. It’s a whole lot easier when I can just think of you as a bad guy.
