Derby looks at me. “You’d get the bedroom.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, it’s your house.”
“And you’ve got the kid.”
“I can sleep on the couch.”
“Not happening.”
“You can’t just decide that.”
He takes a breath, visibly forcing himself not to turn his voice into a command. “I’m offering the bedroom because you have a kid who needs a bed and because I ain’t throwing a woman on a couch in my own house while I sleep comfortable.”
“You aren’t throwing me anywhere.”
“Fine. I ain’t offering the couch.”
“That sounds like deciding.”
“That sounds like me losing this conversation.”
Sophie smiles faintly.
I almost do too.
Then August says, “Do you have cereal at your house?”
Derby looks at him.
“No.”
August frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I’m grown.”
“That’s sad.”
Sophie presses her lips together.
Derby points at her. “You and me are going to have words.”
August chews his eggs. “Do you have a TV?”
“Yes.”
“Dinosaurs on it?”
“Probably.”
“Then I can go.”
My heart squeezes.
“Oh, can you?” I ask.