"Hey, pharmacy question." Colt practically yelled through the speaker. "You got any allergies to pain meds?"
"No, I don't. Don't call me for this crap."
"Alright, jeez. You sound like you're in a great mood. Wren’s grabbing the pizza now. Five minutes."
I hung up without saying goodbye.
Sienna stood up quickly, wrapping her arms around herself, and put a few steps between us, staring a hole into the carpet.
"That was Colt." I kept my voice flat. "Checking if I had any allergies to meds."
She let out a shaky breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "That's... responsible of him."
"I'm going to kill him."
That pulled a real laugh out of her. "Don't. He's bringing pizza."
I wanted to lock that door, hook my finger in her belt loop, and tug her right back to the mattress so we could finish what we’d started. One damn kiss without interruptions.
Silence stretched between us. She stayed halfway across the room while I sat frozen on the edge of the bed, watching her reflection in the full-length mirror. The moment slipped further away with every tick of the clock.
Ten minutes later, the door swung open and Colt and Wren shoved their way inside. He dangled a pharmacy bag from onehand while she balanced four large pizza boxes, grease spotting the cardboard.
Wren glanced sideways at me. "You're shirtless."
"Sienna took the outer bandage off. Was gonna dry stuck."
She raised her eyebrows a little, but all she said was, "There were so many people waiting. Eat first, then I'll patch you up properly."
She set the pizza boxes on the narrow desk and flipped open the top one. "Double bacon for Brock, plain cheese for Sienna. Dig in before Colt eats it all."
“I’m starving,” Colt said, grabbing a slice from the open box.
Space was tight. Colt and Wren sat cross-legged near the door, balancing boxes on their knees. Sienna bypassed the desk chair, sliding to the carpet and leaning against the mattress. I dropped to the floor too.
Nobody had the energy for anything except eating. Sienna devoured half her slice, pausing only to steal the piece closest to Colt’s elbow.
"Hey," he protested. "You have your own."
"I'm billing you for emotional damages," she retorted. "You promised barbecue stands, live music, and funnel cakes. Nobody mentioned death as a possible outcome.”
Wren laughed. “You held up better than Brock did his first time. A loose bull charged the county fair. He scrambled onto a truck hood and refused to come off long after they penned it.”
"I was twelve," I muttered, taking a bite of my slice. Salty bacon and melted cheese hit my tongue.
"You cried," Colt added around a mouthful of crust.
Sienna laughed, the sound bright in the cramped room. She reached for a napkin, wiped her fingers, and rested her head back against the mattress. "I'm going to miss you guys. When I board that plane tomorrow, I'll probably think I hallucinated this entire month."
Wren stopped mid-bite. Her eyes snapped from Sienna's face to the clock on the nightstand, then narrowed.
"Hold on," Wren said. "I almost forgot you were leaving tomorrow."
She looked at Colt. He looked at her—a terrifying, silent communication they’d perfected over twenty years.
"Alright," my sister announced. "We have a situation."
"What situation?" I asked.
