“Then try without making me your manager,” I countered.
He sat down across from me on the armchair. “I cleaned the whole house, Brianna. I really thought you’d be happy about that.”
“I’d be much happier if you knew why Noah cries differently from Liam,” I answered.
Mason looked down at his own hands. “Then teach me.”
I almost yielded right then and there. The old version of me would have grabbed a pen and made another detailed list before he could even finish his sentence. Instead, I shook my head slowly.
“No,” I told him. “Watch them. Learn them. Be here long enough to actually know.”
His face tightened with sudden vulnerability. “And if I mess up?”
“You will,” I said plainly.
He looked up at me, startled by my response.
“So will I,” I added gently.
That realization clearly surprised him. I glanced down at the hard plaster cast encasing my forearm.
