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"I'll get you a patellar sleeve to give you support when you run." He pats my calf. "Please. Try to cut back."
"Sure. I'll try." I have no intention of trying, because cutting back isn't an option right now. Trying to explain that to Noah will only lead to a fight I'm not in the mood for.
"Dani asked me to tell you dinner's in five. She made your mom's lasagna and wants us all to eat together."
Which means sitting across a table from Daisy.
An even worse thought hits me. what if Asher is still here? "I'm not hungry." My stomach growls like a traitor. "And I should probably rest my knee."
"As your doctor, I can promise your knee is good enough to get you downstairs for dinner. And nutrition is part of healing."
"Fine. I'll be down in five minutes."
After Noah leaves, I open my laptop and check my socials. Ava has shared the snake video to my pages and I stare at the numbers as though I can make sense of them if I just stare hard enough.
I haven't seen numbers this high since the early days of my business when Ava and I were both scrabbling to build our followings, often working together on videos and posts.
And the comments. There are so many people asking who my new boyfriend is and whether he's going to be making more appearances in posts and videos. Honestly, I feel dirty. This is one step removed from a sex tape.
That doesn't stop me from digging through the video I made of my "training" run with Grant and Asher and posting everything decent that has Asher in it I can find. Ordinarily, I'd ask permission before posting a video of someone, but this is Asher. Permission or forgiveness, I doubt he'll give either willingly.
But then I remember the way he smiled at me on the ballroom floor. He might actually be a genuinely nice guy, which would make me the villain in this story.
I slam my laptop shut and hop off the bed, still in my pajamas, to head downstairs to dinner. There won't be anyone there I need to dress to impress and I don't want to give anyone the impression that I care if they are impressed or not.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Asher
"Unca Ash," Harper says. "Can I have some ketchup?"
I look at my niece. She has a small pile of lasagna on her plate, a piece of garlic bread next to it, and not a fry in sight. "What do you need ketchup for?"
"For my food." Her lower lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears. I'm getting why Amelia is so strict about nap times and bedtimes and sugar intake. Harper has been sweet and loving and easy to entertain all day, but for the past half hour she's been on the verge of tears about everything.
I should have taken her home as soon as she yawned while petting a little goat in the pasture, or when her eyes drifted closed when I carried her back to the house after the farm tour Honey took us on. But Honey invited us to stay for dinner and Dani insisted and we need to eat.
The baked goods I stopped by to pick up don't need to be at the gym until tomorrow morning for the Monday morning breakfast pastries I'm going to start offering to clients.
And maybe. Hopefully. The treats will attract some new clients. Clients who want a more friendly gym that welcomes them with sweet treats.
"I'll get ketchup," Honey says, already rising from her chair.
Harper looks up at her with watery eyes and smiles. The 'aw' is clear in Honey's expression even though she doesn't say it.
"Thank you," Harper says.
"Of course, baby," Honey says.
Since we're all seated around the kitchen table, Honey just has to walk a few steps to the refrigerator to grab the ketchup. She returns a moment later and hands it to me.
"Thank you," I say, though I honestly have no idea what to do with the ketchup. I've shared meals with Amelia and Harper, but I honestly haven't paid much attention to what Harper eats or how Amelia feeds it to her.
Again, Honey comes to my rescue. "Where do you want the ketchup, sweetie? On the bread or on the noodles or on the side?"
"Bread," Harper says.
I squeeze out a little squirt of ketchup and pull the bottle away.
