“Which is why you’re staying with me,” I repeat. “My place is one level, no stairs. There’s a guest room for you, and I’ll take care of whatever you need.”
“No thanks,” she huffs and crosses her arms.
“Stop being stubborn and let me help you. You can be mad at me later, but please, let’s think clearly.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do only because you put a baby in me, Rasmus.”
Her dad clears his throat. “That’s enough, Princess. You might be annoyed about your current situation, but that doesn’t change the fact that this man is stepping up. You should let him.”
She exhales through her nose, looking from her dad to me. Her hands are gripping the blanket, resisting the urge to strangle someone.Notsomeone. Me.
Timmy claps his hands. “Great. That’s settled. And on that note, I’m gonna get us coffee.”
He practically bolts for the door, leaving us locked in a silent standoff.
“I’ll only stay until my ankle is better,” Haisley mutters begrudgingly. “And only because your place has everything on one level.”
I bite back a smile and her eyes narrow, daring me to gloat. But I don’t want to push my luck. “Deal.”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t.”
She lies back against the pillows, shutting her eyes, signaling us the conversation is over. Not a truce exactly, but something close. I turn to leave, figuring I’ll grab us something to eat, give her a little space.
But as I step out into the hallway, her dad stops me with a hand to my arm.
“Don’t screw this up,” he says, low and firm. “Knowing my daughter, you’ve got this one chance to do right by her.”
I meet his gaze and nod. “I know.”
And I do. More than he realizes.
28
LET THEM TALK, HAISLEY
HAISLEY
Silent treatment is a form of art. And I’ve perfected it over the past few days of staying at the loft. It’s childish for someone my age, sure, but I honestly don’t care. I’m overwhelmed, hurt and pissed off at everything not going the way I planned. The raging hormones don’t help, and all I really want is to cry and eat my weight in coffee toffee bar crunch ice cream.
Rasmus paces the kitchen, casting glances in my direction as I silently watch another episode ofGossip Girlcurled up on the couch, my walking boot propped on a pillow.
“Haisley.”
I pretend like I can’t hear or see him.
“Come on, quit being so stubborn and talk to me.”
His footsteps retreat down the hall. Great.Maybe he finally got the message and will leave me alone.
Ten minutes later, he’s back. And once I see his face again, Ispot that damn smirk I can’t say no to. This man is doing it on purpose, I swear.
Narrowing my eyes suspiciously, I bark, “What?”
His smirk widens. “You finally spoke to me.”
Dammit. I truly did.
