the terminal? Now, tell me the probability of you setting off the chain of events that sent me cartwheeling over a kid."
She untangled her arms as a laugh shook through her body. God, she was pretty when she laughed. "I'm not calculating those odds."
I took a step closer. She did the same. "I thought you liked a challenge," I said. "I thought you liked to invent statistical proof for your mental math games."
She pursed her lips and bent an eyebrow as she started loosening the sling. "And I thought you were busy performing a one-man show. Go on. Show me how you do it all yourself."
I couldn't stop myself from asking, "You're staying, right?"
She glimpsed up at me while disengaging the cinches and straps, her lips still pursed. "I don't have to. I don't want to invade your space and—"
"You're staying," I interrupted.
"That seems like a not-great idea," she replied. "It isn't a problem for me to call some friends. It might be better that way."
"It might be better if you stay," I argued.
She slipped the sling from my arm and flattened her hands on my chest. Aside from the fact everything hurt like hell, it was exactly what I needed. A million more doses of this and I'd be right as rain.
"Tell the truth," she said. "You're after one of my breakfast sandwiches."
I pressed my hand on top of hers. "Let me introduce you to the café on the ground floor of my office building. You'll never eat another serving of pocket eggs again when this place is through with you."
She grinned at me but then her gaze shifted, sliding down to the spot where my hand covered hers. "You couldn't wait to get rid of me yesterday."
"That was yesterday," I replied.
"You were extremely clear about my role"—the word sounded like a slap in the face, one I'd definitely earned—"this morning."
"That was this morning," I replied.
"And tomorrow? What will that bring?"
"I don't know," I admitted.
A brittle laugh filled the space between us as she shook her head. "Perhaps you can see my dilemma, Ash."
This was why I needed two functional arms. One to hold her hand to my chest, another to hold her close to me. To keep her. And fuck me if that made any sense. "As you've mentioned, I'm moody."
"I'm not going to be a casualty of your moods," she replied. "You can't try to get rid of me one minute and then—"
"Listen to me, Zelda." I shifted my hand to tip her face up, meeting her gaze. "I'm temperamental as fuck and you're more than comfortable calling me on that shit. None of that is changing any time soon. But here's what I know for sure. I need you to put my office in order because it's a hot mess right now. I need you to do your bizarre little Mary Poppins thing where you smile, blink, and fix my whole life. But I'm not having you shuffling from one futon to another in Allston or Brighton or some other collegiate crime den when there's a perfectly good bedroom for you right here."
Without missing a beat, she said, "And you'd like me to help you into the shower as well."
Yes. Yes was the answer, the only answer. I wanted her in my bed, my head on her shoulder, and yes, the shower. All those places where I could simply be.
But— "I needed you to get me out of that sling. I would've dislocated the other shoulder trying to do it by myself. I'm sure I can manage the rest on my own."
She closed her eyes as a knowing smile pulled at her lips. It looked like she was holding back a laugh. "Collegiate crime den," she muttered. "What…what does that even mean?"
"You know damn well what it means," I replied. I had no idea what I'd intended with that.
She took a step back, turned in a circle like she didn't know where she was, and power walked into the kitchen. I tipped my head to the side, watching her hips sway in those vintage jeans. I realized then I'd missed a critical amount of Zelda's assets in yesterday's audit. I'd spent the flight focused on that streak of blue hair, the ink on her skin, her mismatched eyes. At no point had this perky backside figured into my assessment.
Another reason I needed two functional arms: grabbing this woman's ass hard enough to leave marks. Now, that was a new urge.
"Just log me into your email and