She glares while flashing a crooked smile. “No. Drew’s paying for my services.”
“All it takes is Starbucks?” I smirk. “Duly noted.”
She playfully rolls her eyes at me, and I laugh. The oven beeps, and she places the bread pan inside, which gives me a nice view of her a*s as she bends over.
She notices and immediately frowns. “No mischief,” she warns.
“I never agreed to that.”
“I’m here to help you with your recovery, and that’s all,” she states in a firm tone, but I don’t believe a word of it. I know her way too well. She’s only saying it aloud to convince herself.
“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
She furrows her brows, keeping a safe distance from me, knowing damn well that if I were able, I’d show her exactly what I mean.
“How is it that you bruise your ribs and get all cut
