“I could not have done it without you.”
“Of course you could’ve.” I roll my eyes because he’s being overly sentimental again. A few months ago, I never would’ve guessed it of him. Nor could I have guessed he’d have alove scowl.
“We’re going to…umm…yeah.”
Vaguely, somewhere behind me, I think I hear a door shut. Then comes Roan’s muffled voice, “This is exactly the type of thing we will notbe filming.”
“I didn’t think they liked each other,” is Harlee’s muffled answer.
I glance over my shoulder. Killan and I are alone, and my bedroom door is closed.
Footsteps sound on the stairs, and a second later, Briar’s laughter is echoing around the house.
“They’re definitely gossiping about us.”
Killan shrugs, like he’s had a lot of practice not caring about his brothers being idiots. “This is your room. Not that I am removing you from my bedroom,” he adds. “But I want you to have a space of your own.”
“I still can’t take it. You’ve already given me too much.”
“You will need an office for when you are filming your documentary. Yes?”
“Yeah, I guess…” I glance around. He isn’t wrong. And if the documentary is a success, I could start financially contributing.Fuck it.“Thank you, Killan.”
“You need not thank?—”
“If you can give me an entire bedroom, then I can give you a simplethank you.”
“Akh.” He purses his lips, and I can tell there’s a war waging inside him—part of him wants to deny my thanks because he’s always taking way too much responsibility onto his shoulders, but the other part of him probably wants to keep our argument-free streak going for as long as possible. It’s been at least three hours. Go us!
“It’s late. I had a really good and then a really crappy and then a really scary day. And now I’m going to bed, in my own wonderful, amazing bedroom, where I’ll dream about the six of us living happily ever after.” Or have nightmares aboutdrowning aliens, but I don’t say that part out loud because—mood killer.
“Yes.” He takes a step to the door. “Sleep.”
I catch one of his hands in one of mine. “Stay.”
“Lydia—”
“Stay.”
Epilogue
Killan
“Fek off, Killan.” Roan rolls over, presenting me with his back. He tugs at his Mate’s blanket, pulling it more securely over his shoulders and adjusting it neatly over hers.
“Killan?” Harlee is squinting at me through the darkness, her voice groggy. “It’s early. Is there another emergency?”
“Yes. No!” I hastily correct when she sits bolt upright, clearly prepared to jump into action. “It is a non-life-threatening emergency. For me. Not for you.” Guilt has me wincing, but I do not back down.
“What the scudding fek are you talking about?” Roan growls, holding open his arms for Harlee to resettle against him.
“I need—” I make a grab for Roan’s datapad, intending to turn on the light, but the datapad is not in its usual location on the shelf over his bed, and Roan smirks when he sees me searching for it. “I need…something.”
“Something?” Harlee repeats. “That’s why you woke us up?”
“Yes.” I give Roan a hard look. “I need something important.”
“What?” he demands.
