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“Really?”
“Really,” they both said sternly.
She huffed a breath. “Fine.”
“Maggie will accept help from her Tops,” Ian added.
Yikes.
She wrinkled her nose. “What sort of help?”
“Any sort of help we think you need, Little girl,” Ian told her sternly.
Dear Lord. Maybe it was a good that this was just temporary.
“I’m also going to add that she will tell her Tops when she needs something,” Ian said.
Jack nodded.
“And that she will prioritise her own self-care.” Ian wrote in the book as he spoke. “Eating. Sleeping. Resting.”
She huffed out a breath. “You guys make it sound like I can’t look after myself.”
The silence was damning.
“I think that will do for the moment.” Ian closed the notebook. “We can add other things as they come up.”
“Nothing more will come up,” she said. “I can barely remember all of those as it is.”
Ian leaned in and kissed her forehead. “We just want to look after you. Is that so bad?”
Darn it. He knew just how to take the wind out of her sails.
“I guess not,” she muttered.
“What do you want to do now, Little girl? Some coloring?”
“I want to see what Jack is drawing.”
Jack turned his drawing around. It was a caricature of someone getting probed by a huge, tentacled alien. She let out a surprised giggle. Especially as she saw that the person being probed was Ian.
“Like it?” Jack asked.
“Yes! Can I color it in? Please?”
“Of course, baby. I drew it for you.”
Ian groaned and lay back on the bed. “The two of you will be the fucking death of me.”
Wow.
She took in the incredible detail. “You’re so talented.”
Jack shrugged. “Here you go, baby. Have at it.”
She settled in, carefully coloring in Ian first. A feeling of lightness filled her. This was perhaps the happiest and most at ease she’d felt in years.
Which was a bit scary if she thought about it too hard.
