Page 38 of Conceal

Trying to take care of us.

That thought makes me feel like I swallowed something sharp.

Tati looks down at the Pop-Tart in her hands. “What if I hurt someone’s feelings?”

“You will,” Roman says.

Her head jerks up.

He doesn’t soften the answer, but his voice changes. Just enough. “Not because you mean to. Because this is complicated. We’re grown men. We can survive disappointment without making it your responsibility.”

Mik nods, his face serious now. “He’s right. You don’t have to manage us, Tati.”

A long line of silence flows between them. He’s saying with his eyes everything his heart can’t say out loud. That they’ve waited long enough for this, that he’s willing to take whatever she wants to give him.

I draw a line across the center of the notebook that I listed her wishes on.

“No jealousy,” I say as I write the words. “No worrying about our feelings,” I add, knowing we’re all going to be worrying about her feelings. “Consent is king.”

I look up, offering the space for other suggestions.

Tati’s chewing on the corner of her lips. I can tell she wants to add something, but I sit and wait.

“When this ends, we have to go back to everything like it’s normal. It’ll be awkward as hell, but I don’t want to lose any of you.”

A sad smile pulls at my lips, because that’s exactly what I was thinking too. When I’m not being a dick, we’re a lot more alike than I thought.

I’m silent, but add ‘back to normal‘ to the list of rules.

When no one else has anything to add, I can’t help but fill the silence.

“So, assuming you need time to recover, what are we doing today?” I ask. I’m not good at being bored. I saw a covered lean-to with wood that’s waiting to be split when I returned from town. I could get out some of this restless energy on the other end of an axe. But I want to make sure she’s taken care of first.

Tati smiles around a bite, then immediately presses the back of her hand to her mouth like she’s trying not to laugh with food in it. Her hair is a mess around her shoulders, her cheeks still pink from sleep and sex, and I’m sure she’d be embarrassed that she’s not perfectly put together if she were to look in a mirror. She looks soft. Rumpled. Happy in a way I don’t think I’ve seen before.

It’s the most beautiful she’s ever been. She’s not pretending or posturing or trying to be someone she’s not.

The French press starts to sputter faintly on the coals, steam pushing up around the lid. I grab a towel and lift it away before walking to the kitchen and filling four mugs.

I chuckle to myself. Tentacle porn talk, and all before coffee.

I pass the mugs around before returning to sit next to the fire. The silence is telling. None of us knows what to do.

“I packed you a couple of books,” I tell Tati. Roman’s the one most comfortable with silence and boredom. Tati and Mik can read.

I can chop wood.

We finish our Pop-Tarts, chatting about nothing of importance. Tati worries that Juliet is okay. Mik pulls on some sweatpants and brings Sparkles into his lap, scratching a finger along the bird’s soft feathers.

“I wouldn’t mind reading some. There’s also a chessboard over there...” Tati says, nodding toward a bookshelf, and sure enough, there’s a small table with a chessboard built into the top.

I can’t help but look over my shoulder at the snowy scene out of the window. The bright sun is high enough now that it’s reflecting on the snow top, creating a shimmering sea of white. It’s beautiful.

But something heavy sits in my chest, knowing that once the snow melts, once Niko finds the enemy, this has to go back to normal; to before.

And that might be the most depressing thought I’ve ever had. Even more so than not living past forty.

Chapter twenty-six