Riley stepped in, making sure to quickly close the door behind him. An open exit would only make it easier for Seth to shoo him out.
Seth was on the bed, lying on his back over the covers. He was holding a pillow over his face. Maybe that was the reason the noise had finally settled down—he was shouting all his viciousness into the down pillow.
“I brought you tea,” Riley told him.
Seth lifted the pillow just enough to snipe, “Shouldn’t it be water and a crust of stale bread?”
Riley fought a smile. He didn’t like that Seth was angry with him, but it was kind of intriguing to be treated to the sharp edge of Seth’s tongue. Riley hadn’t seen this side of him before, and he had a feeling not many people had. Seth liked to comfort everyone around him—with baked goods, with easy cheer—and Riley was sure he usually kept his bad moods to himself. It was sort of an honor to be bearing the brunt of one now.
Riley peered around the room while he waited for Seth to further acknowledge his existence. He hadn’t taken much notice of this current version of the guest room before. It was one of two, and Mama Daphne liked to redecorate them periodically. This rendition could easily be dubbed the Blue Room; there was clearly a theme.
The walls were painted a pale blue, the comforter a deeper, richer shade. The sheets were a blue so light they were almost white, and the paintings on the wall ran the gamut of the blue spectrum.
Riley wouldn’t have thought the color suited Seth—Riley always pictured him in bright yellows and oranges—but it kind of worked. Like the sun surrounded by blue ocean.
There was no sign of anything out of place either. WhateverSeth had thrown around in his anger, he’d put it back almost immediately.
He was so sweet, this human they’d tangled up in their lives. Riley should be drowning in guilt, not trying to weasel his way back into Seth’s good graces.
But some things couldn’t be helped. There was no world where Riley didn’t want to be exactly where Seth was.
Seth lifted his pillow even higher in order to shoot Riley a glare. “I made a joke about being held prisoner.”
“I know.” Riley gave a helpless shrug, which might or might not have been convincing. “My moms can be…high-handed.”
Seth treated him to an unimpressed look. “You don’t say.” But he lifted himself onto his hands, shuffling back until he was sitting up against the remaining pillows. He placed the pillow he’d been holding over his face onto his lap. “I’ll take the tea now, thank you.”
That was a quick turnaround. Like Seth’s anger had only been a passing storm, and now it was all sunshine again.
Or maybe it was a trick.
Riley decided to risk it. He approached the bed carefully, handing Seth the cup of tea. Riley had added milk and sugar based on how Seth always took his coffee.
Seth stared down at the offering. “This is a really pretty cup.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
Seth paused in the middle of taking a sip. “Do you have a lot of tea parties out here by yourself in the woods?”
“Yes.”
Seth closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He shook his head. “I refuse to be charmed.”
That was heartening. Riley walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed on, taking a seat against the headboard next to Seth. He left a few inches of space because he was determined to be considerate of Seth’s foul mood.
Apparently not considerate enough. Seth shot him a suspicious scowl. “What are you doing?”
Riley gave him a beseeching look. “There’s nowhere else to sit.”
“There’s a chair right there,” Seth countered, pointing to one carved out of dark wood over by the window.
“It’s not very comfortable,” Riley told him in a half-truth. The other half of it was that the chair didn’t smell like Seth, and the bed did, in an intoxicating sort of way. All orange and buttery sweetness. Nothing in Riley’s house had ever smelled this good. He wanted to roll around in it. Or roll on top of Seth and get right to the source.
Riley had a feeling the latter wouldn’t be allowed just yet.
Seth finally took a sip of his tea, humming a little as he assessed the flavor. “I called you tricky once, didn’t I?
“Yes.”
