Page 33 of Oathbreaker

Now, he’s been out of bed all afternoon and evening, the explosive surprise of his return from the dead transforming into hanging out with the guys and getting caught up on some of what he missed. There’s too much for him to be really up to speed, and he may never get there, considering all he’s missed, but he got some highlights tonight.

And then Frankie roped him into Connect Four.

He let her win precisely once—because most of her victims (yes, victims) learn that she’s a shark within that first match. And then he, even though he brought out the big guns, he still lost to her four more times, taking her out only once.

But even though he got destroyed in a board game by a four-year-old, he seemed unbothered.

No, he seemed like he was having the time of his life.

Like he was soaking up every moment.

And…more guilt.

“I’m not tired yet,” he says.

I turn back to the sink, to washing that fork, scrubbing like a maniac. “You were barely able to walk yesterday. You need to rest.”

“I think the whole sleeping like the dead for eighteen hours topped me up, baby.”

My heart lurches at his soft baby but I don’t stop cleaning.

Or pretending to because the fork is sparkling.

“Baby,” I hear.

But this time it’s not from across the room.

It’s from right next to me.

Millimeters from my ear.

And he’s stepping close, his chest against my back, hands resting on my shoulders for a moment before they slide down the outsides of my arms, covering my hands…and wrestling the fork from my grip.

“You got it, Thorny,” he murmurs once it’s free and on the drying rack. Then he’s reaching forward, turning off the water.

Which means I’m surrounded by him.

Held close to him.

God, it’s been so long.

And I’ve missed him so much.

And—

He shifts, pushing off me and turning so that he’s leaning back against the edge of the counter.

Still close.

Just…not holding me.

And am I a shit person if I say that I miss it?

He clears his throat again, and I realize that I’m staring. Thank God Banks and Royal took their women home.

Thank God that Frankie demanded her Uncle Royal do his bedtime routine so that my little girl is asleep.

Thank God?—