She squeals when Rowan scoops her off the chair, and then passes her between us, stealing kisses off her lips, her cheeks, her neck, telling her how much we love her, how gorgeous she is, how good she looks watching us play like we’re auditioning for her personal fantasy calendar.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders when I pull her into my chest, her fingers slipping through the damp hair at my nape. Her voice is soft in my ear, but it punches right through me.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Every damn time she says it, I feel it to my bones.
We’ve been able to sex her up, yeah, but not like she wants. Not like we want. The doctors were firm about recovery. Gentle. Slow. Controlled.
All things that none of us are good at.
And Berk? She wants it harder. Rougher. Messier. The way it used to be. The way we all crave but refuse to risk too soon. Tonight though… tonight is different. Her body’s healed. Strength back. Scars faded. Hunger, she’s not even pretending to hide.
We feel it radiating off her.
I nip her jaw and murmur, “You keep looking at us like that and you’re not making it to dinner.”
Her cheeks flush beautifully.
But we set her down because there’s a ticking clock in the form of Kimber’s excitement. The kid has been vibrating for a week straight about this sleepover. Her first real one since… ever. Since surviving. Since life went back to some version of normal.
Berk was the one who ran the backgrounds on all the parents. Dug through their social media, tax records, any weird purchases or lawsuits. She cleared them because they came back boringly safe, which made Kimber ecstatic. And because shepromised, very dramatically, that she would be “so good” if we didn’t embarrass her.
Which is why Emerson and Berk are taking her over instead of all of us. Apparently three heavily tattooed men with murder-eyes showing up to a seventh-grade sleepover drop-off is “scary” and “weird” and might “get the cops called.”
Whatever.
I personally think we’d charm the hell out of everyone there.
But Berk made a fair point that if Kimber is ever going to have a normal life, maybe we don’t show up like a cartel welcoming committee to meet her friend’s parents.
Emerson tosses a basketball underhand and catches it again. “We should probably go get cleaned up before Kimber starts pacing.”
Rowan snorts. “She’s already pacing. She’s just doing it in her room, so she doesn’t look desperate.”
Berk laughs softly, leaning against me. Her body fits into mine as if she was carved for this spot. “She deserves a good night. A safe night.”
I kiss the top of her head. “She’s getting that. And when Em drops her off…”
Rowan flashes a wicked grin as he hooks an arm around her waist. “We get you all to ourselves.”
Her breath stutters—soft enough that anyone else would miss it, but not me. I feel it ripple through her; feel the way her body reacts before she even knows she’s doing it. Want. Trust. That quiet edge of anticipation she can never hide from us.
Rowan bumps her hip with his, trying to play off the heat building in the air. She nudges him back, laughing under her breath. “You wish. I’m going with him.” She jerks her chin at Emerson, who raises his hands like he’s been chosen in some holy ritual.
I lean in, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear. “And we’ll be waiting when you get back.” My teeth graze her neck, just enough pressure to make her inhale sharply. “Count on it,” I murmur against her skin.
She tries to hide the shiver that rolls through her.
I growl, low in my throat.
She has no idea about the surprise we’ve got planned.
Em, Berk, and Kimber head out after all of us shower and pull ourselves together. Watching Kimber bounce out the door with that oversized backpack and a smile too big for her face hits a tender spot inside me. After everything she went through, seeing her so damn excited for a sleepover feels like witnessing a miracle in real time. Pride swells in my chest. Relief too. She’s fighting her way forward with more strength than any adult I’ve ever met.
We made sure she had counseling lined up, someone neutral to talk to. And we keep every line of communication open between all of us. But the truth is that she leans on Berk the most. That girl-to-girl connection, especially at her age, is something Emerson, Rowan, and I could never replace. Berk steps into that role like she’s done it her entire life, gentle and fierce all at once. I swear Kimber looks at her like she hung the damn moon.
Before they left, Em rolled his eyes at Rowan and me and said, “Just have everything ready when we get back.”