For some reason, Amara had a bad feeling. She jumped up from the couch, ready to go answer the door. She hadn't taken more than a couple of steps when the door swung open on its own.
Keith, tall and imposing, leaned casually against the doorway, his gaze fixed on Finnian inside the room. A smirk played at the corner of his lips.
"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Everly in a bit of a pickle," he drawled. "A busy man like you, I heard you're gonna be hospital-bound for a week—must be quite the setback, huh?"
He sauntered in, ignoring Finnian's less-than-friendly glare, and made himself comfortable on the couch.
"Amara, why are you standing around? Come and have a seat."
Keith sprawled out on the couch like he owned the place, legs spread wide, gesturing for Amara to join him. Then he turned his attention back to Finnian, whose expression was stormy.
"Got our Ama playing caregiver, huh? That's not exactly fair play, is it? Ama's got a proper job, you know. This little arrangement of yours is really putting her out—she's just too polite to say so, but I'm not. I'll say it for her. Right, Ama?"
He turned to Amara, grinning, the latter at a loss for words.
Keith's rapid-fire comments had Finnian's face turning an even darker shade, and the tension in the room was palpable.
Amara walked over, nudged Keith with her foot, and said, "Get up, out you go."
Keith clutched his leg, groaning theatrically. "Ouch, ouch, I just finished a wire stunt and I'm still sore."
Amara rolled her eyes.
"Weren't you the one who did a wire stunt in the morning and then wanted to run a marathon in the afternoon? Quit faking it, get up."
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