“You’re letting us have popcorn for dinner?” Michaels asks, bouncing on his toes. “Who evenareyou?”
“Lettingyou? I’m not your daddy.” I flush when Fi bursts out laughing. “That’s not what I meant.” Michaels starts laughing with her, and I glare at them. “Fine, I’ll cook then.”
“What? No!” Michaels protests. “I don’t want real food.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, and I turn, climb down the ladder, and walk to the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
FIONA
Awhimper startles me awake. I look around in the darkness, blinking rapidly as I wait for my eyes to adjust. I’m snuggled against someone very warm.
Brantley.
He’s snoring softly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. I turn to my other side, careful not to wake him, but the sheet next to me is cold and empty.
I must’ve fallen asleep during the second movie because my laptop is closed and sitting on the nightstand. But where the heck is Seb? I hear the whimper again, but this time it’s louder.
“Stop. Please.” Sebastian’s voice is coming from the floor, and I lean over the bed to find him curled into a ball in nothing but his boxers. A blanket is balled up at his side, and his limbs are twitching. “No! Stop!”
B sits up suddenly. “What?”
“I think Sebastian’s having a nightmare,” I whisper.
“Where is he?” B rubs his eyes and pushes hair from his forehead.
“The idiot made a bed on the floor.”
B sighs and climbs over me, his erection grazing my hipbone. I suspect it’s unintentional since he just woke up, but it affects me all the same.
“Bastian,” Brantley calls, leaning over to shake his shoulder gently. Sebastian whimpers again, and his shoulders start to shake. “Shit.”
“What is it?”
“He’s crying,” B replies softly. He climbs out of bed and sits cross-legged on the floor next to Seb, running his fingers through his hair. “Hey, bud, wake up. I’m here. We’re here.”
Sebastian jerks and pushes his face into B’s thigh, a sob wracking his body. “Michaels?” he croaks, his voice shaking.
“Yeah.”
Seb peers up at him and rubs his face quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
B sighs and climbs back into bed. “Don’t be stupid. C’mere.”
Seb looks up at him, his eyes glistening in the dim light. At first, I’m sure he’s going to protest, but then he stands with a sniff and scoots in next to B. I slide over to make room, and we all settle back under the comforter.
After a minute, B asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” His words hang heavily in the air.
“No, not yet. But I want to forget.” Seb’s gravelly voice has a desperate edge to it. B glances at me, and I nod.
“Can I…?” B whispers, asking for consent.
Seb nods quickly, his eyes squeezing closed. “I just need…something. Normally, I distract myself by…you know.”
My heart breaks at how embarrassed he sounds.
“I can—” I start, but Seb shakes his head quickly.
