Page 17 of The Love You Hate
Ryan has already told me what he wants me to do, so I continue washing pans in the industrial-sized sink adjacent to the oven. I glance at Presley as she ties an apron on. “How was the rest of your workout?”
“Sweaty,” she deadpans. “Roger got even louder after you left. Men.”
“Not all men,” I remind her.
Presley starts packaging the bread. “Well, I guess I don’t know if you’re the annoying sort like Roger. You didn’t do a real workout.”
I grin. She definitely isn’t ignoring me, but she has a chip on her shoulder. “My arm has stitches. While you roast me, I’ll remind you why my arm has stitches.”
Ryan buts in. “Why does your arm have stitches?” His face is full of concern. “Are you okay to be here? We can train you another day.”
I meet her eyes. “You do the honor.”
“Nate got attacked by Jake’s dogs yesterday afternoon. But he’ll be fine. He called it a scratch.” She pauses to look at me. “Right, Nate?”
“Almost.” I hold up my thumb and forefinger. “The dogs were attacking Presley, and I put myself between the dogs and her. So technically Presley got attacked. I thwarted it.”
Ryan is staring, gaze darting between me and Presley. “Woah. Okay that’s a lot to unpack.” He puts his hands on his slim hips. “Did doc patch you up? Or did you have to drive up to Ridge Hospital?” Ridge is the bigger town folks here have to go to when things really go bad. It’s not big by any stretch of the imagination, but it has a Kmart and a hospital so it might as well be big city living to the residents of Gold Hawke.
“Nate is exaggerating.”
I raise my brows. “Am I?”
“You said you were fine and you were at the gym this morning.”
“As you so delicately pointed out, I wasn’t even working out.” I turn back to my dishes, annoyance creeping in. “But that will change because I’m going to lift tomorrow. Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll blow some stitches. You’ll drive me back to the doc, right?”
Ryan clears his throat. “You guys had quite an afternoon, didn’t you?”
“It was the most eventful day I’ve had since moving here,” Presley mutters.
“Same here,” I sling back, keeping the hostility in my voice. “Today will be uneventful, then you can go home and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow you might wake up on the right side of the bed.”
She glares daggers at the side of my head. Ryan makes uncomfortable noises under his breath. “I woke up on the only side of the bed I have. It’s a twin pushed up against the wall.” Presley’s voice is an acrid hiss.
“Why only a twin?” Ryan asks, voice warbling.
“Because that’s what was there,” she says, icily.
“Oh, you’re really in a bad mood. I gave you that joke on a silver platter.” Ryan chuckles under his breath. “Because triplets weren’t an option at the mattress store.”
“Ha. Ha. What is going on? It’s early, and you guys are ganging up on me. Is this what it’s going to be like now with Nate here?” Her packaging becomes more aggressive, as her hands move quicker.
“He took a dog to the arm for you and well, you’re acting like it’s his fault.”
I could kiss Ryan square on the mouth for taking my side. Finally, a teammate. I should have known he was good people when I heard how much he was annoyed by Presley’s jokes.
“I mean no offense Presley, but is something bothering you?”
She remains silent save for the crinkling paper and the snipping of the string that wraps each loaf. It’s awkward for a few minutes, and we keep our heads down and work. “I’m really frustrated. I’m sorry.”
“With me?” Ryan asks.
“No, with me,” I add, caustically.
She groans. “With myself actually. Not everything is about you, Nate.”
No one said it was, but now I know this is definitely personal. “Truce,” I say, drying my hands on a towel, careful with my bad arm.
