Nodding slowly like he’d just realized this, he smirked at me. “Looks like you’re moving in with me, pumpkin pie.”
Sighing, I dropped my head back down onto the pillow and glared up at the weird ceiling tiles.
“You’ll also want to dress her in loose clothing like shorts and tank tops, they’re easier to get over the casts,” the nurse informed Jackson as she pressed on my toes, checking the circulation in them, then did the same on my fingers.
“I broke my leg once and wore those tiny little jersey hot pants you can get because it’s all I could get on. My husband was in heaven, and our daughter was conceived during it.” She winked at us meaningfully, but all I could do was pray that didn’t happen.
Jackson’s head snapped around to look at me, and I held my broken arm up and pointed to the thin stick under the skin.
“I’ve got the implant, I swear.”
That’s when it hit me, during all of the joking around, something had shifted. We were meant to be acting this out so that he could get information on me, so why was I showing him my birth control?
He was the kid who’d irritated the hell out of me, and that I’d made up excuses not to go near. I didn’t even know him.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t want to get to know him now.
Chapter Five
Jackson
Let me explain what it’s like to be one of six brothers and a twin—hell.
Growing up, I’d shared a bedroom with Marcus until Elijah and Jesse—the eldest ones out of us all—had left to do their own things.
Once I’d moved into Elijah’s room, I’d gotten to arrange things how I wanted them, put things in places where I wanted them to be, and I’d had privacy to do what I wanted to do. So moving Sasha in with me was causing me some discomfort mentally.
In my home, everything had a place, and in its place, it must be.
Her apartment had been clean and organized, sure, but what if she moved my stuff around or put it in places it didn’t go?
I hadn’t freaked out when I’d unpacked all of the shit I’d bought to help Sasha, not even when I’d put the stool in the shower for her or stuck the shower head holder and put it in it for her. I also hadn’t freaked when I’d put Milkshake’s litter tray down in the kitchen and then put a mat down to put his food and water bowls on it. I further hadn’t done it when I’d let him out to roam around, and he’d pulled the sock that was hanging over the edge of the laundry basket and attacked it.
But it would happen. Something would get moved, and I’d get the feeling I got when my brothers did it.
Fortunately, because I had such a large family, I’d rented a two bedroom apartment so that they always had somewhere to stay when they came to visit.
The spare room had a Dorma bed because I used it as an office to do my schoolwork in, and my couch also pulled out into a bed, so I had options for Sasha’s comfort.
If she needed to do classes online, she had the office. If she wanted to sleep without being disturbed—bedroom. If she wanted to get up, but it was more comfortable to lie out—couch.
This was what was going through my mind as I walked into her hospital room with her bag hanging from my fingers.
Last night on my way home, I’d stopped by her place to pack up some of her shit and pick up Milkshake. I felt bad for the ugly little booger being left on his own, so I hadn’t told him off when he’d climbed my leg like a tree and stuck the claws of his back leg into my crotch. I swear he did it on purpose, but he must be missing having human contact.
I just didn’t realize how big of a clinger he was, even as he’d wrapped himself around my neck in the truck as I drove home, refusing to get down and digging his claws warningly into my shoulders whenever I tried to get him to do it. He’d also slept on my back all night, which was actually kind of comforting. I’d fallen asleep to his purrs vibrating through me.
I’d deny it, even when Sasha undoubtedly pointed it out when we got home, but I’d left the television on for him when I’d left earlier so that he wasn’t lonely.
“You look happy,” she mumbled as she sat on the edge of the bed, her casted leg sticking out in the air.
“I brought you some clothes, sweet tart. Are you ready to break out of this jailhouse?”
Smiling gratefully at me, she opened the bag once I’d placed it down beside her, then frowned as she looked from the contents of it up to me and looked back down again.