“It’s not your TV. It’s just that we have a screen with a 4K projector and a really good sound system,” Misha explains, his mouth full.
“And we have all the movie collections on our account. The only decent old-school Sci-Fi I could find was that one, and I’m definitely not watchingTwilightagain,” Grey adds, shuddering, which sends a wave of embarrassment through me.
Feeling my cheeks heat up, I ask, “Why are you saying that?”
I didn’t talk in my sleep, did I?
“It was paused when he turned on the TV,” Oliver mumbles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.
Misha opens a bottle and hands it to me. We all eat and drink, watching the movie in silence, and when we’re done, Grey stands, collecting all the boxes and bottles.
“Thanks, Grey,” I say as I hand him mine. Despite his rough edges, he’s shown up today in ways I didn’t expect.
All of them did.
I settle back into the couch as the lights start to dim automatically, signaling that Jamie is thoroughly integrated back into my system. My eyelids are heavy, and the events of the day are catching up with me for the second time now that my stomach is full and it’s getting late.
I should probably tell them to leave, apologize, and thank them again, but I can’t muster the energy. I’m completely exhausted. Besides, they’ve proven they wouldn’t listen, anyway.
The last thing I hear before my eyes finally close is Misha’s chuckle, then sleep pulls me under once more. As I drift off, I feel a gentle hand tucking a blanket around me, the simple act of kindness anchoring me in a way that feels surprisingly like home.
THIRTEEN
The gentle strainsof Ludovico Einaudi’s “Adieux” flutter into my consciousness, gently nudging me from sleep. I linger in the comfort of my bed, the covers drawn up to my chin, feeling bewildered and still somewhat fuzzy from the meds.
How exactly did I end up back in my bed last night?
The last snippet of memory I have is of dozing off on the couch, the guys’ voices a soothing background hum. My mind scrambles to piece together the missing steps from couch to bed.
Did Oliver carry me again?
The thought sends a warm flush across my cheeks. The idea of being in his arms, even just briefly, stirs something pleasantly unsettling in the pit of my stomach.
The way he smelled so good.
I’d love to lick his throat to find out if he tastes just as exquisite.
Jamie’s familiar voice breaks through my morning fog and inappropriate thoughts. “Good morning, Amelia. Misha instructed me to wake you. They will be over in an hour with breakfast and plan to work from here today.”
Work from here?
Like, in my bed?
I groan, feeling way too groggy for this kind of conversation. The thought of them feeling obligated to hover around me out of guilt twists a knot in my gut. I need my space back and to return to my routine without the weight of their pity.
After taking a quick shower and changing into jeans and a light blue sweater, I grab my phone to shoot a message into the new group chat.
Hey guys, I’m heading to work. Thank you again for yesterday, really appreciated it.
Before I can slip the phone into my pocket, it vibrates.
Misha
Naw, I was looking forward to the croissants.
I roll my eyes, a small smile betraying my annoyance.
Grey
