I don’t even hesitate.
“You kidding? I love them.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her head, and she lights up like I just handed her everything she’s ever wanted, and just like that it’s worth it.
“I think we should take some selfies and send them to your parents,” Lexy says, all sweet and innocent, like she’s not about to make my life a living hell.
I look at her.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Yes!” Mia cheers, already climbing into position before I can protest.
Of course.
We take the pictures, Mia making sure my hands are front and center, and not even five seconds later my phone starts blowing up.
Of course she added them to the group chat.
I scroll once, exhaling slowly.
Yeah.
I’m never living this down.
“You know there will be payback, right?” I say, glancing over at Lexy.
She just shrugs, completely unbothered. “You can always try…”
That challenge in her voice settles somewhere under my skin, deeper than it should, because she pushes every time and I keep letting her, even though I should shut it down, draw a line, keep things where they’re supposed to be.
Instead, I’m sitting here thinking about exactly how I’d wipe that smirk off her face, slowly, thoroughly, and my jaw tightens at the thought.
Yeah.
This is a problem.
By the time the sun starts to dip, Mia is slowing down, her energy finally burning out as she curls into Lexy’s side on the couch, her movements getting softer, her voice fading.
“I’m not tired,” she mumbles, even as she rubs her eyes.
Lexy smiles, softer now, like the day has worn her down into something gentler. “Of course you’re not,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from Mia’s face. “But let’s at least pretend to go to bed, okay?”
Mia doesn’t argue, just leans into her, and I watch it longer than I should before pushing myself up and scooping her into my arms, carrying her to the bedroom while Lexy follows quietly behind me.
There’s something different about her now, quieter, softer, like the day peeled something back and left this version behind.
I set Mia down on the bed, and she curls into the pillow instantly, clutching it like it might disappear if she lets go.
“Story,” she whispers.
Lexy doesn’t hesitate.
“Of course.”
She moves like she’s done this before, reaching for the book, settling beside Mia, tucking the blanket around her with careful hands, and I stay by the doorframe, telling myself I’m just making sure she’s okay, but I don’t leave.
Lexy starts reading, her voice low and steady, the kind that pulls the room in around it, and Mia shifts closer, her fingers curling into Lexy’s shirt as Lexy adjusts without thinking, angling the book so she can still see, lowering her voice just a little more while her thumb moves in slow, absent patterns along Mia’s arm like it’s something she’s done a hundred times before without ever having to think about it.
