Page 36 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Right now, she’s in her friendship bracelet era, like any other thirteen-year-old girl, courtesy of Miss Swift,” he says, holding up his wrist to show off a bracelet I hadn’t noticed before. It’s understated, adorned in black and gray beads with some letters that spell something I can’t make out. “She made me this one last week. She made me promise not to take it off.”

It’s sweet, and it’s clear his sister is talented as it looks like something he might have purchased at a store.

“What does it say?”

“Master bro chef. She thought it sounded like Joseph, which is my middle name.”

“That’s adorable.” I grab his wrist to examine it closer. “She did an excellent job. She could sell these on Etsy.” As my fingers connect with the skin on his wrist, a wave of electricity emanates from the point of contact, and he locks eyes with me as if to see if I feel it too. I feel it every time we touch, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

“I’ll tell her you said that. It would make her day. She’s always been creative, and once she got into beads and bracelets, I researched all the best places to gather supplies for her projects. I wanted to know which beads would be the best value and would hold up. It was also important to Lizzy to try and source her supplies responsibly, so she tends to use more glass and clay beads than plastic ones, but most letter beads are plastic. She has some lava beads that are cool too. Not all the recycled material beads are pretty, so she tends to mix it up, mostly opting for sustainability unless the aesthetic is off.”

“You’re a good big brother to her. To all of them, it sounds like.” A pang of jealousy washes over me when I think about the childhood his sisters have had with someone like him looking out for them. Meanwhile, I have to get a one-night stand to take care of me after surgery.

He must do stuff like this for them all the time. I realize that the research he described doing for Lizzy is exactly what he’s been doing for me. Reading every word of my discharge papers to know what symptoms I might have. To know what to cook for me. Looking up more about skincare to help understand and improve my routine.

If I don’t break this off soon, this could get messy, the more emotions start getting involved. Plus, given how good he is with his sisters, it seems like he’s going to make a great dad someday, and that life is definitely not in my future.

I pull my legs up onto the couch, keeping them tight against my body so I can rest my chin on my knees. The pressure eases some of the pain in my torso, and I blow out a deep breath of relief. Looking out the large window in front of me, I keep my eyes trained ahead as I feel his eyes boring holes into me.

“Are you feeling better? You kind of scared me last night.”

“About that.” I clear my throat. “While I’m mortified that you had to witness the exorcism, I appreciate what you did for me.” I shift awkwardly in my seat to wrap my arms around my legs while balancing my coffee in one hand. A twinge of pain flashes through my abdomen and I close my eyes as it passes.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Not really,” I confess, raising my mug to my lips and taking a big pull. “Hence this,” I say, holding my empty mug up to him for a refill. “After all the vomiting, I didn’t want to take any more pain meds. I wasn’t sure what I’d expelled and what was still in my system. My mouth was so dry, and my throat burned too, but I was afraid to drink too much water. It was hard to sleep after that.”

He takes the cup and heads to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Do you want to take anything for the pain now?”

“Maybe some ibuprofen? I want to start weaning myself off the harder stuff. Maybe save one for after our walk,” I offer.

“What kind of ice do you require post-coffee?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m only teasing. I think it’s cute, and I want to get it right. If the perfect ice in your drink will bring you a little joy, then I’m happy to help.”

“Could you fill my cup up with the pellet ice? I haven’t been hungry since the demon vacated my body last night. Crunching on some ice might help.”

“Coming right up.” He opens the freezer and begins preparing my water. After refilling the trays and putting them back, he strides over to me with two ibuprofen and the perfect glass of water in his hands.

If he’s going to wait on me hand and foot, maybe I could get used to this.

Shit.

CHAPTER13

Bridget

The soundof metal clanking rouses me. I didn’t even realize that I’d dozed off. It’s been two days since my surgery, and he’s still here. Sleep has been difficult with the amount of pain I’ve been in, so naps have become the norm, but I hadn’t intended to take one, and there’s a pillow under my head propping me up while the blanket that Ethan’s been using is strewn across me. Did he do this? Looking over to the kitchen, I see Ethan, and holyfuck.

His shirt is off, and sweat trickles down the defined muscles of his back while his head is hidden in the freezer. Wait, why is he shirtless?

I notice that most of my freezer’s contents are spread out on the island, and the fridge has been pulled away from the wall.

“Are you fixing my ice maker?” I croak, my throat froggy with sleep.

“I was attempting to, but it looks like this could be caused by a bigger issue with your water line. Your ice maker isn’t making ice because the water line isn’t getting enough water to the unit. I’m pretty handy, but you might need a plumber to check this out.” He turns toward me and leans over the island, wiping his brow with his forearm.

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