Page 31 of Bloom in Darkness

I add Caelan’s coat to the pile because it smells like him. Then I take Bryn’s hoodie from the hook, and when Bryn glances up this time, I hold his gaze until he gives the smallest nod and goes back to whatever he’s reading.

Caelan goes quiet when I tuck Bryn’s hoodie against the other side of the pillows, his soft little “Oh” sending heat straight into my face.

I straighten and stare at the corner I’ve made, suddenly embarrassed by how badly I need it now that it’s sitting there in front of me. Seeing Caelan hurt made the instinct impossible to ignore; I needed somewhere small and soft enough to put him where I could keep him close. “What?” I ask, defensive enough that Caelan immediately reins in the smile trying to form. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He lifts both hands, then winces when shifting his weight pulls at the knee. “I was admiring your decorating.”

I walk back to him and take his hand again. This time when I tug, Caelan comes with me, moving slowly enough that another unhappy sound slips out before I can stop it.

His gaze drops to my face. “That was a very unhappy sound.”

“Because you’re still standing.” I tug him toward the pile. “Sit down.”

“Yes, sir.” Caelan lowers himself carefully into the pile while I hover close enough to catch him anyway. “There. I’m sitting, I’m not working, and nobody is currently punching me.”

I wait until he has his bad leg stretched comfortably before climbing in beside him. Caelan opens one arm, and I curl into his side without needing to think about it. I put my face against his chest, and by the second breath, some of the panic has finally started to ease.

His arm settles around me, his hand moving slowly over my back. “Better?”

I nod against his shirt, and he presses a small kiss to my forehead. The touch makes my eyes sting, so I tighten my arm around his stomach and concentrate on the steady rise and fall beneath my cheek.

Bryn makes a low sound from the desk a few minutes later, and I lift my head to glare at him.

Caelan follows my gaze toward the desk. “What did he do? He’s been sitting there for twenty minutes.”

“He made a noise.”

Bryn finally looks up from his tablet. “I do that sometimes,” which only makes Caelan’s chest start shaking beneath my cheek.

I narrow my eyes at both of them. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m laughing at Bryn.” Caelan kisses near my hairline while Bryn goes back to his tablet, wisely staying out of it.

The room quiets after that. Bryn turns pages and taps notes into his tablet while Caelan eventually reaches for his own and balances it against his good thigh.

I crack one eye open. “You’re working.”

“My knee is injured, not my hands.” Caelan feels me tense and immediately adds, “I promise I’m not going to stand up while answering it.”

I consider that compromise while his hand continues stroking my back. Eventually I let it go, mostly because the warmth of his body and the exhaustion dragging at mine are making argument increasingly difficult. The fine tremor starts creeping back into my fingers, but tucked against Caelan with Bryn close by, it never builds into the crawling restlessness I had on the walk over.

My eyelids are getting heavier by the minute, my arm tightening around Caelan on instinct when he shifts beneath me.

“Easy.” His mouth brushes my forehead while he settles back into the pillows. “I’m only getting comfortable.”

I make a small sound and keep my arm locked around him. He goes still immediately, then resumes working without asking me to move, and somewhere between one slow stroke over my back and the next, I fall asleep.

When I wake, I’m sprawled much farther across him than I remember being. One leg is hooked over his good one, my cheek is pressed to the middle of his chest, and somehow Caelan is still answering messages with the tablet propped beside us. His hand rests between my shoulder blades, starting to move again the second I stir.

“Hey,” he murmurs, looking down at me. “You slept for almost an hour.”

I blink at him, then toward the desk where Bryn is still working. Nobody looks irritated, nobody asks when I plan to leave, and Caelan hasn’t shifted me off him even though I must be making it impossible to sit comfortably. I lower my head back to his chest and snuggle closer.

Caelan’s hand pauses before he presses a tiny kiss to my forehead and settles the tablet more securely against his leg. “Go back to sleep,” he says, voice low enough that it feels private even with Bryn in the room. “I’ve got you.” I let my eyes close again.

The next interruption comes from a knock at the door. Caelan answers before I can fully wake, and someone walks inside carrying a folder and talking about the Friday card before he notices the heap of blankets in the corner. I lift my head slowly. The man stops several feet inside the room and looks from me to Caelan, then over toward Bryn, clearly trying to figure out why an Omega is wrapped around Caelan like a protective blanket.

Caelan keeps one arm around my waist. “What do you need?”