Bohdan glances back over his shoulder, eyes tracing where his shirt drapes over my chest and the sheets swirl over my legs, like he’s checking to make sure I’m covered up, comfortable enough.
I give him another nod, and it’s stupid really, because I am comfortable, content, happy, and quiet for the first time in years.
He yanks back the door, throwing it open much harder than necessary. Turning his back to them, he comes back to the bed, one hand resting on my shoulder in this funny protective way like he’s somehow still responsible for me.
It’s comical, the way they tumble in through the now-open doorway, like they were all children with ears pressed there trying to hear what was on the other side. Tia, all shining silver sequins and hair curling around her face. Talon, in some sort of matching blue striped linen shirt-and-short combo, and Jay, in an outfit that really does sort of belong back in the ’70s.
“Oh. Shit.” Talon catches himself on the doorway at the last minute when he spots me, eyes flashing and immediately finding the ceiling. “Bad time?”
Jay cringes, rubbing a hand across the bridge of his nose. “Told you this was inappropriate.”
“Sloan?” Tia asks, taking a small, cautious step into the room, her heels sinking into the plush carpet.
“Yes?” I widen my eyes, tugging at the sheet before Bohdan drops onto the bed beside me, one arm wrapping around so he can bring me flush to his chest.
“Oh.” Tia blinks, mouth forming a small circle.
Talon finally glances away from the ceiling, a grin cracking across his face. He raises a fist in the air. “So this is on, then?”
Bohdan’s hand tenses against my shoulder, fingers splayed out protectively across my skin. He’s not going to answer.
It seems like a complicated, loaded question. And in theory, it is.
But the answer is simple.
Bohdan and I have always been on—by whatever juvenile definition Talon’s using now, and by every single sense of the word you’d never be able to explain to someone who’s never been in love the way we have.
“What do you want, Talon?” I ask flatly. “I’d like to get dressed.”
“Would you really?” Jay deadpans, shaking his head and glancing up at the ceiling.
Talon knocks his shoulder with his fist. “Maybe they want to go for round two—”
“Maybe you should get the fuck out,” Bohdan interjects, and I can practically hear his jaw grinding.
A smug grin inches across Talon’s face, and he swipes a hand through his hair, sending the curls askew before he starts walking backward. “Sure thing. But don’t take too long. I needn’t want to remind you that this is my retirement river cruise—”
“Not a river cruise,” Jay mutters before he glances backdown at us, face fighting the fracture of a smile and the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“—myretirement river cruise,” Talon continues, cutting Jay a look. “And it’s disco night. A mandatory event.”
“Got it.” I raise my eyebrows at him, pointing towards the still-open door. “I want to get changed.”
Talon points a finger towards Bohdan. “You’re welcome, buddy. See you at the disco.”
He turns, jumping to smack his hand against the top of the doorframe, and disappears into the suite.
“Sorry, Bohdan.” Jay’s eyes find Bohdan’s arm, wrapped around me, and he grins before following Talon.
Tia lingers—arms crossed, eyes narrowed and assessing, full lips pursed. Her fingers drum against the golden skin of her bicep. She looks like she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but her eyes find mine, and the worry in her features smooths into nothing. “We’ll talk at the disco?”
“Sure.” I nod. “As much as one can talk at a disco.”
She smiles fondly. “Remember your earplugs.” She turns to follow her brother and Jay, but she turns back right before she closes the door. “I’m watching you, Novotnak.”
The door closes with a tiny, resounding click, and it’s just us in here again.
“Hey, again,” he whispers, mouth pressed up against my ear.
