Forbidden - Karla Sorensen Page 0,79
desk work. Kelly texted me that the schedule is a mess.”
She finished putting away the groceries. “Yeah, I also heard him say you needed to be careful because of how out of whack your hip was. He said ice and stretch and rest, nothing strenuous for a few days.”
“It’s been a few days.”
“He was here yesterday, Iz.”
My breath came out in an angry puff, moving into the family room so I could sit on the couch. Emmett tossed me a controller, and I shook my head. “No thanks, bud, I’ve played enough video games to last me for ten years.”
“You know,” Paige said from the kitchen, “this just shows how badly you need to find a hobby. Only workaholics freak out after three days off.”
“I have hobbies.”
She laughed. “Name one.”
“I—” My jaw set mulishly when nothing sprang to mind. “I love hanging out with my family. And … sports. I love sports.”
“That doesn’t count, Iz.” She pulled a box of Pop-Tarts out of the paper bag. “Admit it or I won’t toss you one of these.”
“That’s emotional warfare,” I told her. “And I’m not admitting anything. There is nothing wrong with loving my job and wanting to be there. I’ve always been like this. It doesn’t mean I don’t have hobbies.”
“Falling out of trees to rescue your hot boss's daughter doesn’t count, kid.”
Eyes wide, I gestured at Emmett.
“He’s not listening,” Paige said.
“Yes, I am.” He hit buttons on the controller. “You think Mr. Hennessy is hot?”
I gave Paige a look. “Answer that carefully.”
The only way I could describe her smile was pure evil. “My, my, someone sounds possessive. You never did tell me what happened.”
“Nothing happened.” Again, I pointed at Emmett.
“Liar,” she mouthed.
“So, the wedding,” I said. “Getting close, huh?”
“What an inconspicuous subject change.” But Paige smiled as she glanced down at her watch. “I actually have to go. I’m meeting Molly at her and Noah’s place to go over the last details for the rehearsal dinner. If you’re so bored, you could come.”
I tilted my head to Emmett. “What about him?”
“I’m going to my friend's house,” he said, eyes still glued to the TV. “His mom is picking me up in a little bit.”
My wheels started turning immediately. “Nah, you go ahead,” I told Paige. “I might nap.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, so I yawned for effect.
“Okay.”
“Still nothing from … her?” I asked.
Even after so many years, I didn’t love saying Brooke’s name, and Paige knew it.
Paige shook her head. “Not yet.” Paige knew about my phone call with Molly, but I still hated feeling like I wasn’t sure what to expect. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If she was going to come, she would’ve sent in her RSVP.”
I laughed humorlessly. “You guys give her more credit for manners than I do.”
Paige walked around and dropped a kiss on the top of Emmett’s head, then mine. Carefully, she traced her thumb by the butterfly bandage. “It’s starting to peel up a bit. How long until you can take it off?”
“Paramedic said probably seven to ten days. Once the wound is totally closed.”
She nodded, then tilted her head. “You going to sneak out to work as soon as I leave?”
I held her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Aiden know you’re coming?”
“It’s his day off, so no. I just want to fix the schedule and check that he did payroll right.” I paused. “And make sure he didn’t mess up my storage closet.”
Paige sighed. “No kicking or running or punching or anything other than a sedate walk, okay?”
I smiled. “Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was behind the wheel of my car with the warm September air blowing through my hair. It wasn’t like I wasn’t enjoying some extra time with Logan and Paige and Emmett, but it had been so long since I’d had to account for my time to anyone. And after the night at Aiden’s, I found myself craving a little solitude to process it.
It was the only reason I felt sort of okay with the agreed-upon four days off work, tacked in front of my usual day off. Seeing him, thinking about what I’d say or how to act, I was still tiptoeing around it.
The last thing I wanted to do was make the work environment impossible for either of us, but I was no good at faking. I never had been. My thoughts, for better or worse, had always been stamped clearly on my face.
It was probably why most men didn’t even really try with me.
And now—wasn’t it so freaking ironic—I found a