Page 130 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

That does not make him difficult to read. His attention follows Callie’s breathing, Theo’s grip on her sweater, and the pressure of Sloane’s hand at her waist. He watches because he has learned the shape of their comfort without requiring a bond to guide him.

Callie pulls back from the kiss and rests her forehead against my chin. “You are staring at everyone.”

“I am adjusting.”

“To what?” Her fingers move over my wrist, tracing the edge of the band paired with her bracelet.

I look at Sloane, who is still holding her, then at Theo pressed against her side. Their love reaches me in different forms, neither of them quiet enough to mistake for anything else.

“To hearing all of you at once,” I say.

Callie’s expression changes. The warmth inside the bond deepens, and she lifts her hand to touch my face before kissing me again.

Sloane presses his mouth to the back of her head. “How loud am I?”

“Very.”

His amusement moves through the bond before his chest shifts with a laugh, but he does not turn the moment into anything larger. He kisses Callie’s hair and releases her slowly enough that she can return to the counter without losing contact with any of us.

I look at the ingredients spread across the island. Flour, sugar, butter, eggs, vanilla, and several bowls occupy nearly every available surface, while Dash’s pieces of chocolate sit in a neat pile beside the cutting board.

“What are you making?” I ask.

“Chocolate-chip cookies.” Callie reaches for the sugar, and I move the bowl nearer before she has to stretch. “I wanted the house to smell like something other than Theo’s spike and antiseptic.”

Theo has already returned to the stool. “I liked how it smelled.”

“You liked being the center of it.”

His smile is small and unguarded. He reaches for Callie’s cardigan, brings the sleeve to his nose, then folds it over his lap again rather than hiding it beneath the counter.

I pick up the measuring cup and inspect the amount of sugar remaining in the bowl. “You have not leveled this.”

Callie takes the cup from my hand. “I am baking cookies, Idris. I am not preparing evidence.”

“The measurement still matters.”

She turns enough to place one flour-covered palm against my chest. The touch leaves a pale print across my shirt, and satisfaction passes through Sloane before he has made a sound.

“Leave my sugar alone,” she says.

I look down at her handprint, then at her face. Her mouth is fighting a smile, but there is no tension beneath it and no fear that refusing me will cost her anything.

I step closer and kiss the flour from her cheek. “As you wish, princess.”

The bond opens with her pleasure while Theo leans against her arm and Sloane returns to her other side. Dash slides a piece of chocolate toward her, and she takes it from his fingers before offering him half.

He bites the piece she holds, his lips brushing the tips of her fingers. Callie watches him for a moment, and although I can't feel what passes through Dash, I see the warmth settle in his expression when she strokes her thumb across his lower lip.

The room fills slowly with the sounds of normalcy as Callie mixes while Theo pours in chocolate pieces one handful at a time, Sloane moves the finished trays toward the oven, and Dash clears enough counter space for the cooling racks. I remain close to Callie, touching the back of her neck whenever I pass and kissing the new bite when she leans against me.

Theo reaches for the milk, then stops when he realizes Dash moved it to the far side of the island to make room for the cooling racks. His hand hovers halfway across the counter.

“Can you…” His voice catches. He tries again, lips parting around nothing.

No one has raised their voice. No one is looking at him too closely. Nothing has happened except the milk being four feet farther away than he expected, but I recognize the sudden stillness in his mouth.

Callie notices a second after I do. She looks at Theo, then follows his gaze to the carton. “Show me, Star.”