Fuck it.
Tomorrow will do what it wants.
Right now she’s here. Warm, tucked against me, wrapped in all of us.
“Sleep, Naomi,” I murmur into her hair.
“Mmm. Bossy,” she sighs, but she melts against me, already half under.
Felix’s arm tightens around her waist. Liam’s fingers curl a little firmer around her calf.
I shut my eyes. For the first time in two years, I’m finally not staring at a hole where someone used to be.
* * *
There’s a hand on my shoulder and a voice at my ear.
“Silas.”
I surface fast, blinking against the early light spilling around the edges of the curtains.
Liam’s face is a few inches from mine, hair mussed, eyes clear. He presses a finger to his lips before I can say anything and tips his head toward the door.
I glance sideways.
Naomi is still asleep, curled on her side facing me, duvet tucked up under her chin.
“What?” I mouth.
He tilts his head toward the door again, more insistent this time.
I ease my arm out from under Naomi’s neck, moving slow. She murmurs something unintelligible, nose wrinkling, then relaxes again. I tuck the edge of the duvet closer around her shoulders before slipping off the mattress.
I grab the nearest pair of sweatpants and follow Liam out, gently pulling the door closed behind us.
Felix is by the living room windows in a t-shirt and joggers, arms folded, staring out at the snow.
“This better be good,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“Breakfast,” Liam says.
I just squint at him. “You woke me up at—” I glance at the clock on the wall, “—six-thirty for food? You know the kitchen exists after seven, right?”
“We shouldmakeher breakfast,” Felix says, turning from the window. There’s a buzz under his words. “A real one. Before she wakes up.”
Oh.
“Like a… thank you?” I say slowly.
“Like a ‘we’re glad you’re here,’” Liam corrects, leaning against the counter. “She’s done a lot for us in three days. Whether she meant to or not.”
He’s right. The version of us from before Naomi stepped out of that car feels like some other team entirely.
I blow out a breath. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”
We migrate to the kitchen area. But there's a problem: none of us are exactly… chefs. And she deserves something delicious.
“Pancakes,” Felix declares, opening the pantry.
