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I nod. “You’re right.”
“How’s life in Sun Shine Ville anyway?” Harry teases, changing the subject.
Davis joins the conversation. “Yeah, we need to know more about this roommate you’re supposed to be keeping your distance from.”
“Karli?” I groan. “Karli will be the death of me.”
Cash watches me knowingly. “Uh-oh. What did you do, asshole?”
All the shit I’ve been keeping to myself over the past few weeks comes spewing out. I give them all the details about the insane situation I’ve landed myself in.
I dig my fingers through my hair and tug. “She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever met. And she’s smart as hell. And there’s nobody I enjoy talking with—and arguing with—more than her. But none of that matters—I need to stay away from her. At least, I’m supposed to.” My shoulders slump. “I was doing great until I up and kissed her a few days ago.”
Hoots and cat-calls erupt around the room, but I ignore the guys.
“I swear it, though. I’m not going to touch her again. She’s off limits. I really want things to go well for me and Felix with the clinic he’s trying to grow. I’m not going to fuck that up by messing around with his little sister.”
“In all seriousness, that’s a shit situation,” Jasper grunts. “I can tell that you really like this girl.”
He’s not wrong. “I really fucking do,” I admit before switching gears. “But Romeo liked Juliet. Look where that fucking got him.”
When I say that, all of the guys flinch.
“So, since the babe is off limits, is your blowup doll keeping you company?” Harry asks, his stupid brows waggling from where he’s sitting on the edge of the desk.
I grin. “Oh, your girlfriend? She might have come into contact with a big ol’ wine opener and…popped. Oops.”
“What popped?” Grammy questions, catching us all off guard as she ambles into the office.
The guys snicker like the jackasses they are. “Oh, uh. Mason popped his frosting bag,” Cash lies unhelpfully. “White stuff shot everywhere. He couldn’t control it. Made a big ol’ mess.”
I hurry to defend myself. “What? I did not—”
Grammy frowns. “Well, then Cash and Harry, you should get that mess cleaned up. I need Mason’s help with my computer.”
Ha. Backfired!
The guys all pout as our grandmother shoos them out of the office, wanting to speak to me alone.
I slip into a chair behind the desk, sticking my tongue out at the assholes who tried getting me in trouble.
My grandmother asks for me to fix something on her computer, saying she doesn’t trust the new outsiders in here just yet. While I’m giving the machine a reboot, we chat quietly.
“How’s your vision been, Grammy?”
Her lips thin, and she drops her usual guard in a rare vulnerable moment. “It hasn’t been improving like I’d hoped,” she admits. “Those stupid new eyedrops are doing nothing to help.”
That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I can’t say I’m surprised.
“Grammy, won’t you reconsider the eye surgery?” I plead softly with her.
“No. No, absolutely not,” she refuses adamantly .
“But the doctor said—”
She doesn’t want to hear it. “Sorry, dearie. I trust you, but that kind of thing is not for me. I’m too old for that. I’m not doing it.”
I sigh. Grammy is terrified, no matter how many times I explain it to her. The surgery that I think she’s a good candidate for is non-invasive and has a high success rate. But that stubborn Westbrook streak started with our grandmother, and this woman refuses to listen.
