Page 54 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

Probably because you’ve been focused on Everett.

“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

“Okay. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You got hurt because of me. It’s only right I make amends.” He took her hand between his, and she knew he was going to apologize again. “I really am—”

“Sorry. I know,” she said gently. “I forgive you. We all have our hang-ups, right?”

He bent ove

r and kissed the palm of her hand, the press of his lips burning against her skin. “Just holler, and I’ll come running.”

“Good night,” she said.

As he left the room, Everett paused in the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face. “You know, this was not the way I was hoping to get you into my bed. My way would have included wine and roses.”

Before she could respond, he shut off the lights and disappeared down the hall.

Minus the wine, it would have been better than this.

Chapter Thirteen

CALLIE WOKE UP as pain exploded in her ankle.

“Argh!”

Ratchet’s wet nose pressed against her arm in the dark, and she brushed him off impatiently as she tried to take deep breaths, willing the pain away. It was 2:30 A.M., but it felt like she’d been asleep for only an hour. Her eyes stung, even in the darkness of the room.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she bit her lip to keep from crying out as she hobbled toward the door where the light switch was. When her hand found it, the light blinded her.

God, she felt hung over, and she hadn’t even been drinking.

Now that was some bullshit.

Blinking until her eyes adjusted, she limped back to make the bed. The ice pack Everett had put on her ankle had melted, and the pillow was now soaked with water.

Once she had straightened up the room, she grabbed the ice pack and opened the door. “Come on, Ratch.”

He padded behind her as she walked slowly down the hallway, bracing her weight against the wall. She tried to be quiet, but Ratchet’s heavy breathing was louder than an angry bull in a library.

Callie made it to the living room and looked over the back of the couch to find Everett stretched out, his bare feet hanging off the arm. He had a worn quilt pulled over most of him, but the light from the flickering TV revealed his jeans bunched up on the floor.

Just the thought of him in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs was drool-inspiring.

He looked so uncomfortable and exhausted that she felt too guilty to wake him. Moving toward the coffee table, she picked up his phone and swiped through to alarms, deleting the one at 3:00 A.M.

Besides, she’d been taking care of herself for a long time. She could handle a little sprain without putting him out even more than she already had.

It felt like forever, but she finally made it to the front door, only to remember she’d worn her calf-high boots. Using the flashlight app on her phone, she examined her ankle, which could officially be called a “cankle” at this point. There was no way she was going to squeeze that boot up over it.

Barefoot it was.

Gathering the boots up, she ushered Ratchet out the front door and wondered what Everett would think when he woke up to find her gone. She should at least leave a note, but her ankle was throbbing badly, and her other leg was getting tired. If she went in search of a pen, she would definitely wake him up, stumbling around. And he deserved some rest.

The minute her feet hit the ice-cold gravel, she made up her mind. She’d just send him a text when she got to work.

“DALTON, I SAID I’m fine!” Callie snapped when he tried to help her out of her DJ chair eight hours later. “Will you stop hovering?”

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