I land on the bed next to Gavin. The dishes rattle and he groans in pain at the jarring movement. Obviously he’s not feeling that great. I grab a sandwich off the tray and take a bite. I chew and watch Jessie. She’s staring at me like I might bite her. Her eyes narrow and her mouth purses.

“Of course I'll read more to you,” she says sweetly, her voice dripping honey. That’s when I know she’s remembered that she’s not backing down from her insane mission to win my brother’s heart.

She opens the book and starts the chapter where Shasta meets Aravis. It’s one of my favorite parts. The two of them shoot sparks off each other from the start. As Jessie reads, I finish off two sandwiches. I lean back against the headboard and start to relax. After the first page, Gavin falls asleep. Jessie doesn’t notice, she keeps reading, her voice filled with warmth and enthusiasm. She even has different voices for each character.

I take the time to study her. She wore her hair down today, it falls around her face and almost softens the sharpness of her cheekbones and her eyes. Almost, but not quite. Which is good, because the sharpness of her chin and her cheeks and her arched eyebrows remind you of how stubborn she is. That stubbornness is her best and her worst feature. It’s what helped her survive a childhood without love—the stubborn clinging to hope and the promise of the future full of love. But that stubbornness also makes her incapable of seeing what’s right in front of her. Not just me wanting her. But that she has a whole community that loves her and considers her a member of their family.

Gavin lets out a long snore. Jessie looks up from her book.

“He’s asleep,” I say.

She frowns and sets her book down. “I’ll go.”

She reaches for the plates of scones and berries. She puts everything in a to-go basket from the bakery.

“I’ll walk you out.”

She bites her lip and then nods. I walk next to her down the dark hall to the front door. And I decide I don’t want to walk her out, I want to keep walking with her—anywhere.

We reach the door. "What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Why?” Her brow furrows.

“Just wondering what you’ll do with yourself since your merry nursemaid scheme was foiled.”

She smirks at me. “Or was it?”

I have the urge to back her against the door and remind her of what we were doing yesterday. Her breath catches at my expression. She’s going to run, I can tell. I have to think fast if I want her to stay.

“I need your help,” I improvise.

“What?” She shakes her head.