Rose yanks the door open and sprints to the front yard once they pull over. When their mom gets out of the car, she throws herself at her while holding her sobs.

"I'm so glad you're alright! Gosh, I was so scared I couldn't find you, that something happened to you! I'm so sorry I didn't pay good attention," she speaks in one breath while wrapping their mom into a tight hug.

"There, there, I'm perfectly fine," their mom replies, rubbing her back up and down. "I told you I was going to bring Cobie's lunch. You may have not heard me because you were on the phone."

Rose still doesn't let go of their mom, sniffling on her shoulder when Cobie struggles to get out of the car. A strong hand catches her when she almost tips backward.

"I've got you," says a deep voice behind her.

Rose snaps her head in Cobie's direction and stares at the man who is holding her sister. "Who is he?" She shifts her gaze to Cobie, and her eyes widen. "What happened to you?"

"I twisted my ankle. And he's my boss, Luke. And Luke, this is my sister, Rose."

"Hello." Rose nods at Luke before rushing to her sister. She bends forward to take a better look at Cobie's ankle. "Why didn't you say about this earlier? Uh oh, it looks very painful."

"Let's get her inside," their mom calls from the porch. "Two gentlemen in her building took care of her bruises, but she needs the ankle support. Where is it?"

"I'll go get it," Rose says as she jogs to the porch. Before she reaches the door, she turns around and looks at Luke, "Can you maybe help Cobie to her bedroom instead? Our living room is full of my school activity material. I don't think it's handy for her to lie there."

"Sure," Luke replies, tightening his hand around Cobie's waist.

"Unbelievable. She didn't even ask me for it," Cobie grumbles. She hates to be helpless and has to be dependent on someone else. First Peter, now, Luke. Can she even get to choose who can help her climb the stairs?

"Well, it's almost dinner time and soon, they need the kitchen, too," Luke replies even though her complaint wasn't addressed to him. "And you need to rest."

Cobie is not in the mood of having a further back and forth with him. Their awkward situation is still very much there despite Luke's attempt to strike up a few conversations with her during the trip home. She blames her mom for letting him drive them home.

She scoots away from his hold. "Just give me your arm. I think I can walk fine just by holding on to your arm."

"Okay." He does what she asks, contrasting the frown on his face. At least he's smart enough not to boss her around in her own home.

Cobie grunts once she takes one step forward. Slamming her ankle to the basement floor after spraining it was not a good idea at all. If the pain stung like a bitch earlier, now it bangs like a bitch. But she's too stubborn to stop. Biting her lower lip to refrain from whimpering, she hops on one leg while using Luke's arm for balance.

They stop at the porch steps, and Cobie gulps. How is she going to climb it when there is no railing to hold on to? When she looks up to the open front door, the stairs to the second floor are staring back at her, welcoming her with their stiff staircases. She groans.

"It's not the time to be stubborn, I guess?" Luke says. "Let me just carry you and you won't need to prolong your pain."

Being around you is painful enough. But of course, Cobie doesn't say it out loud. As much as the thought of him playing around with her feelings still gives her a twist in the guts, she can't act like a spoiled brat. Luke has been good to her mom today and he defended her honor in front of Peter despite how ugly it ended up.

She glances up at him and briefly studies his face. His jaw starts to swell, covered with a band-aid the security guys brought for him, yet it's not long enough to cover the tear on his lower lip. Luke's left eye has turned red and bloodshot, reminding Cobie of the forceful punch Peter aimed at his face. She shudders.

When Luke looks down at her, she forces a smile. "Okay."

Being this close to Luke is distracting. His masculine scent is stronger than usual this time, overpowering the familiar perfume he wears every day. The fight did bring a different body odor to him, and Cobie is trying hard to not decide if she likes it. Because she has a more important matter to think about.

"You're small but you are heavier than I thought," Luke says, half grunting as they reach a half-point of the stairs.

"You're big but you're weaker than I thought."

Luke chuckles. "Touche."

"Okay, let me down now," she says once Luke steps on the stair landing, contradicting her reluctant ass.

Luke puts her down and stares at her ankle. "Are you good?"

"I think so. I still need your arm, though. And it's the last door on the left," she instructs, instantly regretting herself for not lying. She should've pointed at Rose's room instead. "And don't judge. My room is a mess. I didn't have time to tidy up this morning."

Cobie cringes when she pushes her door open, revealing her chaotic chamber. Clothes are stacked on her bed that is barely made, the laundry basket with clean clothes in it is sitting in front of her wardrobe, and books are piled up next to her laptop on her desk. She scans her room, making sure no panties or bra are hanging somewhere inappropriately in her room. She takes a deep breath when none of them makes an appearance.

"Okay. In my defense, I was in a hurry this morning. Had back-to-back appointments with" —she looks back to the hall and lowers her voice— "nursing homes."

"I'm not saying anything. No need to defend yourself," Luke says, holding his smile. He bends over to let Cobie land on her bed gently. "How was the appointment? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I guess so. It's not perfect but that's the best we can afford right now." Cobie adjusts her dress, to make sure it covers her upper legs properly. "I haven't said thank you for taking my mom in and calling me right away."

"No problem." Luke stands straight next to her bed, looking down at her. His shirt is unkempt but it still hugs his torso perfectly. Its second-top button is missing, allowing Cobie's wandering eyes to see a part of his toned chest.

"So, this is your room." He sweeps his eyes over his surroundings. "I have to say I'm surprised. I never expected you to pick blue for your room."

"It's turquoise, actually. Or teal. Or whatever the name is."

"Is that a color name?" Without asking for her permission, he walks around her bed, stops by the window, and looks outside.

"Yes, it is. It's between blue and green, as you see it."

Luke turns around and shrugs, a slight smile lingering on his lips. "Anything you say, Evans. It's still blue to me."

The sound of footsteps coming from the stairs, followed by Rose emerging from the hall. "Here is your aspirin," she says, entering Cobie's room. A glass of water and a bottle of painkillers are in one hand, and a first aid box is in the other hand. "Have you eaten? You can't have it with an empty tummy."

"Yeah, I know. I have a candy bar in my drawer."

"Keeping food in your bedroom is a bad habit," Rose points out, shaking her head at Cobie who opens her nightstand top drawer and retracts her snack wrapped in red plastic. "Let me put the support on. Sit back."

"Okay," Cobie replies, not missing a small chuckle from the man who is standing by the bedpost. Luke is eyeing them as if he's enjoying a live show. When he catches Cobie's glare, he holds his hands up before walking to her desk and plopping down on her chair. Cobie has no idea why he is still here, but on top of it, why she hasn't asked him to leave yet.

She leans back on a pile of pillows as Rose starts to examine her swollen ankle. The concern in her sister's face sends a comforting feeling straight to Cobie's chest. But Rose always has this nurturing trait that sometimes makes her wonder about who is their mom's biological daughter. Rose's movement is careful, gentle, and neat, just like their mom's.

"You should've considered a job as a nurse," Cobie says.

"Working long hours, sometimes on the weekends, and having night shifts? No, thanks. I'm happy teaching kids and getting proper sleep." Rose examines the ankle support, to make sure the elastic still works properly. "Mom told me about Peter. Is that true?"

Of course, Mom told her at the first opportunity. Cobie's love life is more interesting than Korean drama series for them. "Yeah. Ouch!"

"Sorry. Just a bit more pull, then it's good." Rose bends over and tilts her head to see if the brace wraps Cobie's ankle perfectly. After she looks satisfied, she piles up some pillows for Cobie's foot to rest. "You're not going to see him again, right?"

Cobie smiles. "No."

"Good." Rose nods before standing up and glancing at Luke. "Alright. I'll leave you now with your guest. I need to start with dinner."

Cobie can't help but grin as Rose makes her way to the hall and down the stairs. She knew her sister would come around eventually, but she didn't expect it would only need a sprained ankle to make her warm up to her again. She would have done it earlier if she knew.

"Seems like things are progressing well with you two," Luke remarks after Rose is out of hearing distance.

"Yeah. I know I deserved her cold shoulders to some point, though. I still need to talk to her later to clear things up." Cobie stares at her wrapped ankle. "And again, thank you for today, Luke. Also for driving us home."

"Don't worry about it. I really couldn't let a raging mother and her injured kid drive across the city in the crazy Friday traffic."

"Injured kid." Cobie rolls her eyes but she smiles.

"You're still going to be her kid, no matter what."

"I know." She puts a throw pillow on her lap and rubs its surface. "And I still wish you didn't have to get into a fight with Peter. It wasn't worth it."

"Well, I'm glad I broke his nose and tore his big mouth."

"I hope he was just bluffing about suing you."

"He was, trust me. I met plenty of guys like him. They bark harder than they bite." Luke leans forward, his elbows pressing on his knees. "How are you feeling by the way? Not about your ankle, obviously. It's more about meeting him when you least expected it."

The question brings Cobie back to that night when she opened up to Luke, found comfort in him, and ended up getting hurt after reality kicked in the next morning. "I'm okay. And on that note, I'm tired. I'd like to have some rest now."

Luke doesn't respond for a few seconds, a frown forming on his face and his eyes searching. He then nods and gets up from her chair, grunting in the process. The sore from the basement match must have started to punch in. "I'll leave now then," he says.

"Yeah. That's a good idea."

The relaxed atmosphere has suddenly disappeared into thin air, replaced by the same awkward tension that has been going on in the past week. Something inside Cobie nags, but she tightly presses her lips together. She doesn't want to admit that she wants him to stay, but she also doesn't want to be reminded of his rejection.

Luke reaches the door when he halts and turns at her. "Are you mad at me or something?"

Cobie blinks at his question. And she blinks again. What is he trying to do? Is he playing a game again? Doesn't he know where they stand right now?

She's so close to denying that she's mad at him, but a small voice in her head tells her that she's done with avoiding conflicts. She's so used to wrapping herself in denial to protect her from getting hurt; at least, that's what she has been doing in the past nine years. And what was that for? To prevent her from acknowledging and connecting with her own feelings? And to let time ease the pain and make it go away?

The meeting with Peter today opened her eyes to why she was treated like trash back in high school. It wasn't because she deserved it, or that she was a slut, or that she was never enough. It was because Peter was being Peter. He had to feed on someone else to inflate his ego. He was the one who was never enough with himself —and he still is. If anything, she low-key pities him right now. And she has to agree that it's much better than carrying the resentment for almost a decade.

With Luke, she's not going to make the same mistake, regardless of how different their situations are. He hurt her nonetheless, and she's going to address it because it's time to act like an adult. It doesn't matter where this talk will bring them later, she knows she doesn't want to carry any more resentments.

"You're right. I'm disappointed in you."

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