Page 66 of Scout

I take a step forward. “Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria? Get something to eat. I’ll stay with her. Keep her company.”

Scout shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“You need to eat,” I push, voice firmer. “Please,” I add, quieter.

Before he can say no again, Juniper perks up. “I’d kill for a Dr. Pepper and a tuna sub from Subway.”

Scout glances at her, eyes soft. “I can have it delivered.”

“You know the bread gets soggy when we do delivery. Pleeeeease, Scout?” she pleads, hitting him with the wide eyes that probably got her out of trouble a million times.

He groans, but a smile flickers. “Fine. Do not leave her side.” He kisses her temple and gives us both a warning glance before heading out. The door clicks softly behind him.

Juniper crosses her arms with a wince, settling back against the pillow. Then, just as casual as anything, she says, “So how long have you had it bad for my brother?”

I blink. “What?”

Xavier coughs. “That’s… not?—”

“Oh, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I see the way you all look at each other. You’re not slick. Scout might be distracted, but I’m not blind.”

“You’re a kid,” Xavier growls, clearly uncomfortable.

She shrugs. “A kid who had to grow up way faster than most. Wait—” Her eyes go wide. “Oh, my God. You are the boys. The ones who had him all mopey last weekend. When we talked and he pretended everything was fine?”

We both go still.

“Dude,” she gasps. “You douche canoes. So what… are you both into him? Or was this like some love triangle throuple thing that exploded in emotional damage and bad communication?”

I rub my hands over my face. “You’re twelve.”

“I’m observant,” she smirks. “And I’m also the only family he has now, which means if you hurt him again, I’ll find a way to ruin your lives. I know people.”

Xavier actually chokes on a laugh.

This girl. God help us.

I glance over at Xavier as Juniper stares us both down like we’re kids caught passing notes in class. Her eyes are sharp—too sharp for twelve. Her arms cross tightly over her chest, and I catch the wince she tries to hide. She’s hurting, physically and emotionally, but she’s not letting that slow down her interrogation one bit.

“So, how long have you had it bad for my brother?” she repeats.

I blink. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” she fires back. “You—tall, tattooed doctor—were watching him like he might disappear again. And you—” she points at Xavier now, “you stitched me up like a pro but can’t even look Scout in the eye. That’s guilt.”

“We’re just… trying to help,” Xavier says, and it sounds weak even to me.

Juniper rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. Help. But is that with your hearts involved or not?”

“You’re twelve,” I try again.

“And you’re dodging,” she shoots back.

God help me. I rub a hand down my face and sigh. “Fine. Yes. We care about him. A lot.”

“Like want-to-be-friends care or let’s-be-a-throuple-again care?”

I choke. “Juniper.”