15 Days Babysitting For My Star Quarterback Bully

Chapter Eight

Sophie plants her hands on her hips as she stares both Tyler and I down. She’s trying her best to look intimidating, so I think twice about mentioning how adorable she is.

“You both have to help,” she says, then drags a shoe box overflowing with glitter, colored pencils and different types of glue across the dining table. “It’s a family art project.”

Tyler watches with boredom from where he stands, leaning against the table. “It’s your project,” he drawls.

“But I’m your family,” Sophie pouts, her eyes glistening, and I hide my smile.

“You are. She isn’t,” Tyler says, flicking his chin in my direction.

Sophie waves him off. “Lila is here all the time. She’s practically family.”

Lucas, quiet as ever, nods in agreement as he slides into the seat beside me and starts lining up the colored pencils in neat rows.

Tyler exhales tiredly through his nose, realizing Sophie is too stubborn to let this go. Sounds like someone else I know, really. He shifts slightly, like he’s been doing all evening, favoring one side of his body more.

He sucks in a harsh breath when he finally takes the seat on my other side. “Let’s get this over with,” he mumbles.

Sophie claps excitedly, then climbs onto a chair and settles on the center of the table.

“What did Dad say about hopping on the table, you little monkey?” Tyler demands, but his tone carries an undercurrent of teasing.

Sophie sticks her tongue out at him and shoves a sheet of poster board between us. “I’m supposed to make an imaginary ecosystem. So, I chose a moon forest.”

“Of course, you did,” Tyler grumbles.

“That sounds amazing,” I say instead, leaning over the blank page.

“I know,” Sophie exclaims, beaming.

I pick up one of the pencils Lucas carefully arranged and, without thinking, I start to sketch.

Gently, I trace out long, curved tree trunks with roots spiraling upward instead of down, and leaves shaped like crescent moons. Then, I draw a glowing river a few inches away from it, with floating spores drifting over it like stars.

I don’t notice how quiet the room becomes at first.

Not until Sophie whispers, “Whoa.”

I glance up to see her staring at my drawing in awe. Even Lucas has stopped arranging things and seems equally impressed by my art.

But it’s Tyler’s surprise that pleases me the most. “You didn’t trace that?” He asks so quietly that I barely hear him.

“No,” I raise my chin proudly.

This is the one thing I’m good at. It’s the whole reason I took the job despite knowing it meant having to coexist with him. It’ll all be worth it when I see myself through art school.

Tyler still doesn’t take his eyes off the drawing. “You did that… just now? That’s insane,” he whispers, then clears his throat and schools his expression back to default mode.

I blink at him, shake my head and turn back to the sheet. “Add shadows here to make the trees look taller.” I hand the pencil to Sophie.

She nods, her tongue poking through the inside of her mouth in concentration.

Tyler leans in at the same time I do to see her work better, causing his hand to brush mine.

It’s nothing, barely even a graze, but I feel an intense static run up my arm all the same. We both jerk back at lightning speed.

“Sorry,” I mutter at the same time he growls, “Move.”

He shifts in his chair, and this time I definitely see him wince. Pressing a hand to his side, he stands up abruptly. “I’ll be back.”

“Bring snacks,” Sophie orders, barely looking up.

He ignores her and disappears into the kitchen, while I continue to stare at the shut door longer than necessary.

“Water,” a small voice says.

I turn to see Lucas watching me expectantly, and smile. “Coming right up,” I reply and head to the kitchen.

Carefully, I open the door and close it behind me. But when I turn around, I find Tyler with his shirt pulled down just enough to reveal an angry, purple bruise on his shoulder as big as my fist. Despite the tension in his muscles, Tyler remains composed, almost as if this isn’t new to him.

He grits his teeth as he presses a bag of ice against it.

“You’re hurt,” I say before I can stop myself.

Tyler stiffens, slowly turning around as he says, “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“You’re right. But it’s none of your business,” he scowls, but doesn’t meet my eyes.

I don’t know what possesses me, but I step closer anyway. “You shouldn’t ice it directly like that. You need a cloth…”

His head snaps up and he glares daggers at me. Four days ago, that would have terrified me. But lately, I’ve found that Tyler doesn’t scare me as much anymore.

“I said I’m fine.” He tries to shift the ice pack himself and ends up hissing sharply.

“You’re being stubborn.” I reach for him. “Give it here.”

Tyler recoils like I’ve burned him, and the ice pack slips out of his hand and falls onto the floor with a dull thud. “Don’t touch me!” he exclaims, his eyes wide with… fear?

No, that can’t be right. Tyler doesn’t feel fear, let alone the n***d vulnerabilty written all over his face.

Yet, the force of his voice makes me step back, causing the heel of my sneakers to catch on the edge of the rug. I stumble, reaching a hand out behind me to grab the door handle. In my haste to steady myself, I tug the handle down and the door opens slightly.

Before I can decide whether to apologize or leave, the front door handle rattles.

Our heads snap towards the sound, and we go very still.

The handle rattles again.