“We wouldn’t want you taking another tumble,” he said, leaning closer until the spatula tip was an inch from my bare arm. “The family budget can only take so many of your little accidents.”
I flinched back, my elbow hitting the spice rack on the counter with a loud rattle of glass jars that seemed to fill the quiet room.
“Move, please,” I said, my voice barely louder than the hum of the freezer.
Tyler grinned, his college ring clicking once more against the wood of the island before he finally stepped aside.
“Just looking out for you,” he said, tossing the spatula into the stainless steel sink with a loud clang. “You know how Dad gets when you ruin the hardwood.”
“I did not ruin the hardwood,” I said, my hand trembling slightly as I gripped the glass salad bottle.
“That is not what the repair bill said three years ago,” Tyler said, walking toward the screen door with a slow, confident stride. “But keep telling yourself that.”
He let the screen door slam behind him, the wooden frame rattling against the jamb.
