“Ash, you can’t be climbing up and down those stairs all damn day.” He points out.
I roll my eyes. “I won’t be. I’ll climb down them once in the morning and climb up them once in the evening. There’s a half bath on this level and a full bathroom on the second floor, so there’s no need to be climbing up and down all day.”
“And what about your work?”
My work is completely unaffected by a broken ankle. Oh wait. He’s not talking about my business. No one except Juniper knows about my secret business. He’s referring to my odd jobs. Those I won’t be doing for a while.
“Obviously, I can’t be running around doing all kinds of odd jobs while my foot is in this cast. Once I get a walking cast put on in a few weeks, I’ll be back in business.”
“No, you won’t. You need to rest up until your ankle is properly healed.”
“Dude, it’s called a walking cast for a reason. You should know this. You were a professional athlete. Injuries happen.”
“And they need time to heal.”
I ignore his comment to go on the attack. “Why are you here? You’re not my keeper.”
“Someone has to be.”
His words slice through me. Once again, he’s reminding me of how I’m nothing to him but a little sister he has to watch out for. Ouch.
I sweep my arm through the room. “I have my family to help me out. I don’t need you.”
Aspen raises her hand. “Not it.” I glare at her. “What? If you think Mom and Dad have a lot of sex—”
I throw my hand up in a stop sign. “Enough.”
“Not it as well,” Lilac says.
“Really?”
She shrugs. “I live in a one-bedroom apartment on the second floor.”
Dang. She’s got me there.
When I glance Ellery’s way, she holds up her hands. “Nope. I live in the carriage house behind the inn. It’s also a one-bedroom.”
“I guess I’m staying here.”
“Or,” Rowan growls, “you can get your head out of your ass and admit you need my help. I have a three-bedroom ranch house.”
As if I don’t know what type of house he has. And I certainly haven’t drooled over the adorable white with gray trim house more times than I can count. Nor have I happened to jog past it on my way out to River’s goat farm a time or two. A fifteen-minute detour on a five-minute commute is totally normal, right?
But nobody – and I do mean nobody – tells me to get my head out of my ass.
“What is your problem? You can’t possibly want me staying with you for several weeks.”
He grunts, and it’s not hard to figure out what he’s thinking.
“There’s no reason to feel guilty. It’s a broken ankle. It will heal.”
“It’s my fault it’s broken, and you can’t do your work anymore. It will make me feel better if you let me help you out.”
I snort. Make him feel better? I wasn’t put on this earth to make him feel better. Except my heart – the stupid organ – beats faster at the idea of being able to do something to make the big, strong Rowan feel better.
“You don’t have to worry about being around me.”
Ha! Me worried about being around him? Not hardly. No, I’m worried I’ll get entirely too used to being around him and my heart will break into a million tiny pieces when I move back home, and he goes back to pretending I don’t exist in between bouts of pretending to be my big brother.