Page 73 of What We Become

“Did I stutter?” Milo looks at me. “Sound good, kitten?”

“Naked hot tub in the woods?” I hold up my hand. “Sounds exactly like my kind of fun.”

“Excellent. Time to gather the troops and lose the clothes.” Milo reaches for another pancake.

Holden catches his wrist before he gets there.

“Hey, daddy dom. Your guy is hungry.” Milo looks down at the hand around him.

“Quit calling me that,” Holden grouches. “When did you last sleep?”

Milo wiggles his fingers, stretching toward the pancakes. “I closed my eyes while the hot tub jets kicked on.”

“That isn’t sleep.”

“It was several moments of ASMR enjoyment. I had a very efficient dream.”

Holden’s jaw tightens, and Milo manages to grasp a pancake. He flicks it at his own face and catches it in his mouth.

The pancake vanishes between his teeth like a magic trick performed by a hyperactive raccoon.

“See?” he says through it. “Reflexes of a jungle cat.”

“You have syrup on your eyebrow.”

“That’s war paint.” He slips out of Holden’s hold, takes two more with his other hand and backs toward the stairs.

“Adding sleep to the meeting agenda,” he says brightly. “Right after nudity and before tactical construction. I’ll write up talking points now.”

“Milo—”

But he is already gone.

Holden watches for several seconds before following him.

Micah looks at the sawdust now covering the floor. Sighs, and then gets the broom.

“You love him,” I say.

“I love all of you.” He starts sweeping. “I’m increasingly uncertain whether that demonstrates good judgment.”

I sit at the island and watch him move through the sunlight, the easy roll of his shoulders, the quiet competence of a man who sees a mess and takes care of it without needing anyone to notice.

But I notice.

I notice the mess. The effort. The quiet moments and endless noise.

I want this kitchen. This man. Every stupid breakfast that comes after.

More than that, I want to be what Micah comes home to. Me, Eli, all of us.

Right now, the cabin feels like hiding. But this is what we’re fighting for.

All six of us.

SEVENTEEN

SAGE