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I nodded slowly. “Of course.”
When the muffins finished—or when I thought they finished—I pulled them out and served them. By then, Hunter was back, no sign of the melancholy of before. He was grinning at me, breaking apart the muffin with a raised brow because the whole thing fell apart.
“Look, okay, the oven is weak,” I explained, holding my laughter in.
“Are we drinking this?” Leo wondered as he poked around the undercooked bits.
That earned him a smack.
“You will eat it, and you will enjoy it,” I demanded.
It was disgusting, but they ate it anyway. If that wasn’t proof of how much they loved me, I didn’t know what was.
Back to drinking the night away.
To loud music.
To acting like damn right fools.
Leo impersonating old teachers. Hunter throwing on a movie in the background with a lot of gunfire and car chases.
I wandered around the cabin, opening every window and door, trying to get some cool breeze in, but it was no use.
I wound up digging out ice cubes from the freezer, running them down my arms, getting Leo to run them down my spine where I couldn’t reach.
Chills from the cold, from the look Leo kept giving me, from the watchful eye of Hunter who sat still on the couch, eyes pinned to me.
Then there was stillness.
A quiet amidst the music and the raging movie and Leo’s storytelling.
One I wound up trying to diffuse with a game of charades while my chest felt tight, while warm tingles rampantly flooded my core, making me squirm before them, and they just watched.
They watched like they knew what I was feeling.
