She snorts. “Are we talking Ne-Yo or Destiny’s Child, here? Oh! Or Kelly Clarkson? I love that song.”
I grin, loving that she knows her music—even if she doesn’t know mine. “None of the above. I’m talking Webbie.”
“I haven’t heard that one…”
Probably too rap for her. “I’ll play it for you later. It should be your mantra.”
She lifts her hand and pushes her hair out of her face and I itch to grab her hand and bring it to my lips to kiss it. I want nothing more than to show her how much I care about her, but that’s not what she wants, and it’s time I respect that. “We all get it, Dash. You’re independent. You’d prefer to handle life all by yourself even if it kills you. But the thing is, you don’t have to. I have the means and money to make sure you’re taken care of and comfortable.”
“East—”
“Nope, I’m talking.” I hit her with a pointed look that has her huffing in annoyance. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stop being stubborn and move into the home I bought. You need a place to live, and I have one available. And you don’t have to worry because I won’t be there.” Her brow furrows, and if I didn’t already know how she feels, I would think she’s upset that I won’t be living there. “You’re going to focus on school and Kendall and baking our little chocolate éclair…”
“Our what?”
“Chocolate éclair… It was that or a Blackberry.” I shrug.
“The old-school phone?”
“Yeah, but those are irrelevant, so I’m sticking with the dessert.”
“Makes sense,” she says with a light laugh before her face turns serious. “Easton, I can’t just move into your home.”
“I bought it for you.” I actually bought it hoping one day we would be a family and would live there together, and I still hope that, but if I can’t have her, if she doesn’t want to be had, then the home is hers.
“No more stress, no more working more hours than you sleep. You want your space. I get it, and I’m going to give it to you, but you’ll have it while being taken care of. What happened today never should’ve happened, and I’m going to make sure it never happens again. Because I can.”
She swallows thickly and her eyes turn glassy. “Okay,” she whispers, all the argument gone from her voice. “I’ll move in with you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOPHIA
“I’ll be back in time,” Easton says over the phone. “And we’ll reschedule the concerts I had to cancel… I’ll eat the costs myself if I have to.”
I can’t hear what’s being said on the other line, but after a moment, he says, “Book me a flight for tomorrow morning… Okay, thanks.” He hangs up and glances at me. “I didn’t hear you come in. Is Kendall asleep?”
“She is. She loves her new room. I can’t believe you managed to pull it off so quickly.”
“Money talks.” Easton shrugs.
He’s not lying. It’s been two days since I was released from the hospital, and in that time, Easton has been in boss-mode, handling shit, so when he leaves, I’ll have no reason to stress—his words, not mine.
He’s moved my entire apartment to the new house—well, the stuff Kendall and I wanted to keep—and had new furniture delivered as well—including turning Kendall’s room into a room fit for a princess. At first, I refused to pick anything out, but when Easton told me it was happening whether I picked the stuff out or not, because the place needed furniture, I gave in, wanting the home Kendall will be living in to be nice.
He’s hired a woman named Maria to come in every day to do all the cooking and cleaning—including the laundry. I tried to argue with Easton, but when I met her—she’s in her early sixties and the family she used to take care of no longer needed her services because the youngest moved out to go to college—and her husband passed away last year—and she was so sweet and excited to take care of us, I gave in. She’ll be arriving at seven o’clock every day and leaving after dinner is done.
He’s also hired a driving service to take me and Kendall to school, as well as anywhere we need to go, so I don’t have to walk, and a nurse to come check on me several times this week while I’m home. The doctor didn’t put me on bedrest, only said I need to take it easy this week and rest, but to Easton, that meant I’m not to move unless necessary.
Tonight is our first official night in our new home and Easton’s last night before he’s back on tour. He’s been so busy handling everything, we’ve hardly spoken. I could be wrong, but it feels like he’s avoiding me. I’m hoping tonight we can spend some time together. I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help it. It’s easier to push Easton away when he’s thousands of miles away from me, but when he’s here, near me, and I can see him smile and laugh, it’s damn hard to do it.