“It’s just a bruise.”
“No, it’s not. There’s a cut there, too. Come here.”
“If I move I’ll probably end up flat on my ass for the fourth time today, and I just don’t have the energy to get back up.”
“Come on, friend.” Hannah helps me to my feet and leads me to her small bathroom. “I’m just going to clean it up a bit. It doesn’t need a bandage.”
“It hurts like a bitch.”
“I’m sure it does. How did it happen?” She dampens some cotton balls with peroxide and dabs the cut. I suck my breath in through my teeth. “Sorry,” she murmurs.
“It doesn’t matter how it happened.”
“Wow, you’ve been a bitch to live with all week, Grace. Wanna talk about it?”
I hang my head in my hands and sigh deeply. “I’m sorry, Han. I don’t mean to take my mood out on you. Just kick me and tell me to stop being a bitch.”
“I’d rather talk with you about what’s wrong. This is so unlike you.”
“I can’t always be Miss Roses and Sunshine,” I snap and then slap my hand over my mouth in horror. “Jesus, I’m sorry!”
“See? Bitch.”
“I kind of miss Jacob.”
“He’s right at the top of that mountain,” she reminds me, and points toward Whitetail Mountain.
“I know.”
“So go up there.”
“No, it was just a weekend fling.”
“Right.” She shakes her head and puts the peroxide back under the sink. “I think you should try dating him, but I don’t have the best track record when it comes to men, so you can take that advice or leave it. I do know this: do what makes you happy because, girl, you’re miserable. And you don’t deserve that.”
I wrap my arms around the pretty redhead and hug her close. “Thank you for being the best roomie ever.”
“You’re welcome. I’d suggest a nap, but that blow to the head looks like it could have resulted in a concussion.” She narrows her eyes and peers deeply into my own eyes. “Look up at the light.” I comply and sit patiently as she looks me over.
“There are benefits to living with a doctor.”
“I’ll send you a bill,” Hannah murmurs with a grin. “Nope, no concussion. You should take a nap.”
“Good idea. You headed back to work?”
“Yes. I have one other woman laboring and a few more appointments this afternoon.”
“Ugh, I don’t know how you can work around all of those bodily fluids.” I shiver and follow her out of the bathroom. “See you later.”
“Bye!”
Meow. Slater, Hannah’s old cat, winds his way between my legs, purring and begging to be picked up.
“You’re going to trip me one of these days, you little terrorist.” I pick him up and nuzzle his head and carry him into my bedroom with me. I quickly pull on an oversize T-shirt and climb into bed. Slater joins me, purring happily as I drift off to sleep.
Dingdong!
I wake up and look about the room groggily. There are two kinds of naps, the kind where you wake up refreshed and rested, and the kind where you wake up with dry mouth, drool on your cheek, and not entirely sure what year you’re in.
This nap was the latter.
The ringing persists, so I throw the covers back and stomp out of the bedroom, not even bothering to pull on some yoga pants.
I’m not going to actually open the door. It’s probably a salesman. We definitely need to buy a No Soliciting sign.
Just as I’m crossing the living room to look out the peephole, Slater runs right into my legs, tripping me, and I fall flat on my ass.
Again.
I pound the floor with my fists and scream out, “Motherfucker!”
My ass hurts, my head hurts, and my heart hurts, goddamn it!
I hang my head in my hands and battle the tears that want to come. I’m so frustrated. Why can’t I be graceful? Why am I such a damn klutz?
The door opens and I feel the rush of cold air on my bare legs, before it closes and I’m suddenly lifted off the floor by strong arms.
“What happened, love? Are you okay?”
I look up into worried bright green eyes and am mortified to feel a tear slip down my cheek.
“No, I’m not okay,” I whisper. Jacob sits on my couch and keeps me cradled in his lap.
“Did someone hit you?” His voice is suddenly hard as steel as his eyes roam over my face. He raises a hand to touch my cheek but I flinch back. “I’ll kill whoever did this to you.”
“I ran into a door,” I reply with embarrassment. “No need to become homicidal.”
“Talk to me, darling. What’s wrong?”
“Why are you here?”