Page 30 of Roan

I set the bagel down on the counter and reach for my coffee. “What are you, like fifteen now?”

His brows knit together. “I’m thirteen. Almost fourteen.”

I can’t even remember thirteen, even though it really wasn’t that long ago.

Scarlet bounds downstairs, her wild blonde hair knotted up on top of her head. She presses her hand to my forehead. “Did you get your flu shot?”

“No.” I hate to admit it, but I missed Scarlet. “I don’t need no fucking flu shot.”

She hugs me and then draws back, a smirk on her lips. “Where’s Ophelia these days?”

Actually, I fuckin’ hate her. At first, I refuse to answer the question. Fuck them. But then the answer comes out anyways. “Fuck if I know.”

Since the day she spotted me with Ophelia, it’s been Scarlet’s mission in life to drive herself in the middle and dissect the gory details of what went wrong. The problem? I refuse to divulge any information.

“Clearly you didn’t get the kid a flu shot,” I note, taking another bite of River’s bagel and trying to change the conversation away from me.

“I took her to get one,” Amberly adds, joining the madness in the room. “But she cried hysterically until we left.”

Shade comes in next, helmet in hand, riding pants on but no shirt. He glances at River, the cream cheese she’s still eating and then frowns. “Shouldn’t you be at school today?”

River shrugs, scooping another dollop of cream cheese on her finger. “I’m not going anymore. I’m retired.”

With a deep chuckle emitting from his chest, Shade rolls his eyes and nudges Camden, who is now on his second bagel and meticulously spreading peanut butter on each slice. “And you?”

Camden fake coughs. “I’m sick.”

“Bullshit.” Shade sets his helmet on the counter and reaches for the coffee pot. He pours himself a cup, sending a head nod Camden’s way. “You bring your bike?”

The peanut butter bagel gets pushed aside. “Yep.”

Shade looks to me, his brows waggling. “Bet your old ass can’t hit the double still.”

I down the rest of my coffee. “Fifty says I can make the triple.”

And just like that, things slowly begin to fall back into place.

Unfortunately for me, four days later, that cold turns into pneumonia and I’m stuck going to the doctor with Scarlet. Lucky me.

After the appointment, that’s when the interrogation begins. You probably don’t know a whole lot about Scarlet, but she was hired to be our assistant when Willa was at the end of her pregnancy. She fell madly in love with Shade and never left. Since then, she’s wormed herself into all our lives like the sister we never had. One who loves to insert herself into my business.

“Why haven’t you called Ophelia?”

I look over at her, more concerned that she just made an illegal lane change and nearly cut off a biker in the process. He’s honking behind us and she’s completely oblivious. All she cares about is my nonexistent love life.

I’m uninterested in having this conversation with her but she insists, so I try saying, “What the fuck do you want me say? I fucked up.”

“So apologize.”

“It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not.” She takes her hand off the steering wheel, twirling a lock of her blonde hair in her face. I’m more worried about her not having both hands on the steering wheel than I am that she’s dissecting my love life. “You say you’re sorry.”

Believe it or not, I had said I was sorry. It might have been at four in the morning and left on a voice mail, but I said it. That counts, doesn’t it?

Groaning, I stare at the window watching the cars passing us, all of them yelling obscenities at us. It’s a good fucking thing we took one of the cars with tinted windows. “Drop it,” I mutter, coughing. I forgot how miserable pneumonia is, but I’m not surprised I have it. I’ve worn my body down and now I’m paying the price.

She tosses the cough medicine at me. “You’re just as stubborn as Tiller.”

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