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One
Raven
“Ifuckinghateyou,” she growled.
“Good,” Connor muttered as he supervised the therapy exercises that had been prescribed to her. “Keep hating me and keep telling me all about it. That strengthens your lungs.”
She growled again.
Then because it felt as though her lungs—those lungs she was supposed to be strengthening—were filled with glue, their membranes sticking together so they wouldn’t inflate properly, she stopped growling, clamped her lips together, and switched to glaring.
Why—ohwhy—hadn’t she replaced the wiring in her entire house instead of only her kitchen?
If she had, the fire wouldn’t have started, and she wouldn’t behere.
Herebeing Connor’s house.
Connor Jackson, her archnemesis, and…the biggest pain in the ass she had ever met.
Ever.
And considering she was a doctor in a busy county hospital’s emergency department, she’d met a lot of pains in the asses over the years.
But Connor took the cake.
Not because he was bad at his job, or even an asshole. He just…managed to push every single button she possessed. This would be annoying under most circumstances, but it was made more challenging because her best friends were tangled up with his brothers and his family was close and inclusive and held a party for everyfreakingthing. So even if she only accepted a few of the invitations they sent her way (and usually, she accepted asmanyas possible because the Jacksons—minus Connor—were fun and their parties were awesome), that still meant lots of crossover. Then add in that Connor was a nurse in the same fucking emergency department as she worked, and it was nearly impossible to get away from him.
And now…
She was staying in his guest bedroom.
Because Connor was the “best person to help” her during the recovery process.
This was according to her close friend, Kim, who’d hooked up with Caleb,whowas—not a surprise because the universe hated Raven—a Jackson brother. And while it had been a logical statement from her friend, it was also annoying because itwaslogical.
Raven didn’t want logical if it got her stuck in Connor’s guest room during her convalescence.
She could take care of herself.
She was a doctor—she knew what to watch out for.
Unfortunately, between Kim’s logic and Raven’s house being torn apart and rebuilt due to the fire (caused by faulty wiring)—meaning it wasn’t exactly livable and wouldn’t be until the damage from the fire was repaired—she’d ended uphere, anyway. Yes, shecouldstay in a hotel, but—and this was something she wouldn’t ever admit to Connor—her famous infallible energy had failed her.
She had never been this tired in her life.
The idea of fighting with Connor about staying here until she got her way was insurmountable, let alone packing her things and getting her ass to a hotel. It was a fucking effort just to push out of bed, to get dressed, to take a shower. It washellto wash her hair, a nightmare to shave her legs.
She’d gone to medical school, had survived a residency.
And she’d never beenthistired.
That didn’t mean she was too tired to fight with Connor—she just didn’t have it to fight about her living arrangements.
For now.
“Two more reps,” he ordered when she didn’t reply, namely because she was trying to catch her breath and not yak up her breakfast.
Both of which would be painful since her lungs were still healing.
