Chapter 8

Cian

T he minute I’d seen Gray sitting with my aunt like he belonged there, I knew that shit was going to get way more complicated than I’d anticipated—which was saying something since I’d fucking stabbed a guy earlier in the day. Gray was brought in for the big stuff that needed strategic planning and a whole lot of intricate details to pull off. Sure, he showed up for other things, he was always smack dab in the middle of what was going on—but we weren’t close. The fact that he’d shown up when my family was in the middle of a crisis didn’t have anything to do with wanting to support us. He was there because I’d stepped into some shit. Problem was, I had no fucking clue what I was dealing with yet.

Strangely, they’d let Myla and the girls come with them. It was the only thing that kept me in my seat instead of racing back to make sure everything at the house was okay.

“Smart of you to send a photo of that tattoo,” Brody explained after the girls had gone off to find drinks. “I was pretty sure I recognized it.”

“Yeah?” It had just looked like a random-ass tattoo to me.

“The anchor and flowers,” Brody continued. “Knew I’d seen it before but couldn’t figure out where.”

“Get to the point, man,” I muttered.

“Heroin,” Gray said flatly. “What Brody’s dancin’ around is that tattoo goes on all of John Smith’s boys. Biggest supplier in the western states.”

“Say what?” I asked, my mouth feeling strangely numb.

“Dealers got ’em small,” Gray explained. “Meat of their thumb, back of palms, behind the ear, neck. The bigger fish you are, the larger they get.”

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“How big was your fish?”

“Tattoo took up about half of his forearm.”

Bas whistled quietly.

“Medium fish,” Gray mused. “You kill him?”

“He was alive when I left,” I replied, wishing I’d finished the goddamn job and been sure about it. “Don’t know how he would’ve made it to a phone, but it’s possible he survived.”

“That complicates things a bit,” Gray said, looking at the floor. “Nothin’ that can’t be handled.”

“Jesus Christ, Aisling,” I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face. “What the fuck?”

“Your sister in with this guy?” Gray asked. He raised his hands in surrender when our eyes met. “Just askin’ how deep she is.”

“Think it was a first date.”

“That’s good.”

“You haven’t seen her face,” I shot back.

“Just mean it’s good that she’s probably not all tangled up in this shit,” he replied calmly.

“Has she said anythin’ yet?” Bas asked.

“She’s not talkin’.”

“She’s gonna have to,” Gray said grimly.

“You think they’ll come after her?” I asked Gray. If anyone could see the bigger picture, it was the man sitting across from me.

“We’re here now,” Gray said, tilting his head back and forth like it could go either way. “Way the fuck outside our territory, but we’ve got plenty of friends. There’s something to be said for maintaining alliances, even if you doubt you’ll ever use ’em. I think you’re golden while we’re here.”

“Christ.” I shot to my feet. “Someone needs to get back to the house.”

“Your sister go home?” Gray asked in surprise.

“No, she’s back at Aoife’s.” Ronan was there, but while my brother was scrappy as fuck—he’d have no idea how to deal with the lunatic I’d found with Aisling.

“She’s fine for the moment, man,” Gray said. “Sit down.”

“I had him,” I mumbled in disgust as I dropped back down. “I had him and I fuckin’ let him live.”

“Aisling was standin’ right there,” Brody reminded me quietly.

“Focus,” Gray said, his tone still almost eerily calm. “Tell me what the cops know.”

By the time the girls got back with their snacks, I’d explained everything that had happened since Saoirse’s first call. Gray walked away to make some phone calls. I had no clue what he was doing, but I knew better than to ask. The man had contacts everywhere. It was like a whole web of people, just barely overlapping. I had a feeling there wasn’t much that happened west of the Mississippi River that he didn’t know about.

Dragon was still in charge, and after him it would probably be the next generation that stepped up—but someday, we all knew Gray would be the Aces president.

“We couldn’t stop ’em,” Bas muttered as the girls walked toward us. “Especially since there are more old ladies on the way.”

“Should be plenty of protection for ’em,” Brody added. “If shit gets hot, you know Tommy will force her back home.”

“He’ll have to fuckin’ hogtie her.” Myla smiled at me as she got closer, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and bring her ass right back to Oregon and away from the mess I was in.

“I’ll hang out a couple minutes and then head over to the house and keep an eye on shit,” Brody said quietly.

For a while, things were chaotic as the girls passed out their vending machine haul and my big sister left Richie’s side to come out and say hello. When Aoife hugged Myla, she looked up and met my eyes across the room. She was glad for me.

Little did she know that having Myla there just made everything more complicated and terrifying. It was bad enough that my family was on the radar of some fucking psycho that was involved in the heroin trade. Knowing that Myla was a day’s ride away would’ve been the only upside in the whole fucking mess.

I couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t really fucking good to see her, though. The minute she’d wrapped her arms around my neck, every thought that had been racing through my mind for the past couple of days vanished. It had only lasted about a minute, but I was grateful for it all the same.

A couple hours later, Aunt Ashley had followed Brody back to the house to get some sleep, Lou had dozed off with her head on Bas’s shoulder, and the rest of us were sitting quietly when the elevator opened up and a group of familiar people started pouring out of it.

“Shit,” I said in surprise, getting to my feet. “They sent the calvary.”

“Of course,” Myla replied.

“I know, it took us long enough to get here,” Myla’s mom Heather announced. “But I got a fucking flat, and we had to pull over to change it.”

“Ironic, no?” Mack asked, his eyes meeting mine over her head.

The first time I’d met anyone in the club had been the day I’d turned fourteen, and they’d pulled over to help us when a tire on Aoife’s piece of shit car went flat. I’d gone down to the gas station to fill up her spare tire and come back over the hill to find a group of bikes and huge-ass bikers parked behind my sister’s car. I nearly pissed myself back then.

Now? I’d never been more relieved to see them.

“You look tired,” Heather said, leaning up on her toes to kiss my cheek as she hugged me. “Makes you more handsome.”

“Stop flirtin’ with the boy,” Tommy said, physically moving his wife to the side so she could pull me in for his own backslapping hug. “I didn’t drive all the way out here to kill him.”

“Thanks for comin’,” I ground out. My throat seemed tight for some reason.

“You okay?” Lily asked as Tommy and Heather headed for Myla. “How’s Richie?”

“Still the same,” I replied, leaning down to give Gray’s mom a hug.

“That’s not a bad thing,” she said quietly, pulling back to look in my eyes. “His body’s healing. Sometimes that takes a minute.”

“I hear you.”

“Dragon and Brenna send their love.”

“Brenna does,” Rose corrected as she hugged me too. “Dragon probably just grunted.”

“She’s got jokes,” Leo said, reaching out to shake my hand and slap my shoulder. “How ya doin’ kid?”

“I’m all right.”

“You look like shit,” Leo replied, looking me up and down with a nod. “But you’ll do.”

“We’ll be here as long as you need us,” Will said as Leo walked toward the couches.

“I can’t believe you guys came all the way out here,” I said, glancing at Mack, who’d joined us.

“Would’ve been more, but we made some of the boys stay back,” Mack said. “Coverin’ the garage and keepin’ an eye on shit back home.”

“They weren’t happy about it,” Will added.

“The old timers—”

“You’re a fuckin’ old-timer,” Will cut in.

Mack glared at him, then looked back at me. “People got families to take care of, but don’t be surprised if people keep tricklin’ in. Have a feelin’ once they get some shit settled back home they’ll be headed this way.”

“Might want to let them know not to,” I said, looking over my shoulder at the women who’d congregated in the sitting area I’d just left. “Gray thinks things might get a little hot here.”

“Fill us in,” Tommy ordered, squeezing my shoulder as he came up behind me.

I’d barely finished telling them what Gray and Brody had found when Myla’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind and my mouth snapped shut.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” she asked, tucking her shoulder under my armpit and not sounding the least bit concerned.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied.

“That’s unfortunate.” Myla shrugged.

Tommy scoffed, and Will grinned. “Left your aunt Molly at the motel. She grabbed all the keys and checked everyone in. Give her a call when you’re headed over there.”

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while,” Myla replied. She looked up at me.

“I’ve got the night shift tonight,” I told her. “We don’t want Aoife up here alone.”

Myla looked back at Will as I felt my phone start vibrating. “I’ll stay up here with Cian, but the girls may want to get some sleep.”

“Just a sec,” I said, pulling away so I could check my phone. It was Saoirse.

I wondered if I’d ever see her face pop up on my phone without reliving our last phone call.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Cian, Aisling is freaking out.”

“What do you mean, freaking out?”

“She’s hysterical. She keeps saying he’s driving by the house . I don’t know who, but she’s adamant. She tried to leave. Ronan had to practically tackle her.”

“Did Brody see anyone?”

“No, he said that there hasn’t been the same car twice,” Saoirse said, her voice high with anxiety. “Sean’s still sleeping, but if she doesn’t calm down, she’s going to wake him up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Wake up Aunt Ashley.”

“She’s already awake. I went and got her first. She finally said to call you.”

“Fuck.” I paced down the corridor.

“Aoife could talk her down, but—”

“Yeah, don’t bother E,” I mumbled, torn. “I’ll head home in a minute and see if I can sort her out.”

“I’ll switch with you,” she said quickly. “It’s not like I was sleeping tonight anyway.”

“Wait until I get there,” I ordered.

“Fine.”

We hung up, and I turned to see multiple eyes on me in concern. Myla had followed me a little and was standing halfway between the group and where I was standing.

“I gotta head back to the house,” I said, walking toward her. “Somethin’ is goin’ on with Aisling.”

“Is she okay?” Myla asked, falling into step with me.

“She’s flippin’ out.”

“Crap.”

“We’ll stay here,” Heather said, pulling yarn out of her bag. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll stay with ’em,” Bas added. “So Aoife doesn’t run screamin’ if she comes out here and sees a sea of Aces.”

“Aoife likes us,” Lily protested. “We met her last year at a barbecue.”

“Ah, so you’re best friends then,” Gray said dryly. His mom reached over and pinched his side. He didn’t even flinch.

“I’m going with you,” Myla said, picking her purse up off the floor. “Who’s got a helmet I can borrow?”

Rose lifted one from the floor beside her.

“You rode?” Lou asked in surprise.

“My man’s on his bike,” Rose shrugged as she handed Myla the helmet. “No place I’d rather be.”

“It was cold as hell,” Frankie said with a huff of disbelief. “No thank you.”

“Probably why you don’t have a man,” Rose shot back.

Frankie’s eyes widened in shock before she burst out laughing. Rose grinned.

“Thank you,” Myla said.

“Let me know everything is okay,” Heather said, looking back and forth between us. “One of you.”

“We will.”

“I’ll ride with ya,” Will said, lifting his hand in goodbye to the rest of the group.

“Stop being such an ass,” Lily scolded Rose quietly. “Good grief.”

“I wouldn’t ride with Tommy in this weather,” Heather said as we walked away. “You’ll find a fella, Frankie. Or a filly? Whatever you’re into.”

“Jesus,” Myla muttered as we made our way onto the elevator.

“Your sister’s gonna be in for a surprise,” Will said as we stepped inside.

“Hopefully she doesn’t even notice them,” Myla grumbled.

“I think she’ll notice ’em.”

“Where did you guys park?” I asked as we rode down to the first floor.

“Right next to the boys. First level. Where are you at?”

“Second level.”

“Meet me down here?” Will said, gesturing toward his bike.

“No problem.”

Myla and I used the stairs to go up to the next level, and halfway up the first flight, her hand slipped into mine.

“Okay?” she asked quietly, giving my hand a squeeze.

“Can’t believe you drove all the way out here,” I replied, shaking my head.

She was oblivious as we walked toward my bike on the other side of the parking structure, but I was hyperaware of our surroundings. There were a couple of birds eating spilled fast food off to the right of us, but nothing else moved.

“Of course I did,” she said, bumping into me. “Even when I thought you’d tell me to fuck off.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” I glanced at her in surprise.

“Well, because.” She stared at me. “I said some shit, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” I replied. “It’s burned into my brain.”

“Shut up.”

“I’d never tell you to fuck off,” I said, yanking her toward me as I scanned the parking spaces. “I care about you, remember?”

My breath left in a rush as she smacked the helmet into my gut.

“Don’t be an ass,” she ordered.

“What’s wrong with caring about you?” I wheezed, catching the helmet the next time she swung it in my direction.

Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t tell what it was. The parking garage was pretty well lit. I couldn’t hear anything moving. I couldn’t see anything moving. But there was something that had caught my eye, and I wasn’t sure what it was. A shadow somewhere there shouldn’t be. An angle wrong somewhere.

“Helmet on,” I ordered, reaching for my back waistband before realizing that I still wasn’t carrying. Fuck.

“Cian?”

“Helmet on, Myla,” I ordered, still scanning the space as we reached my bike.

Myla jerked the helmet on and buckled it while I maneuvered her between me and the cement wall.

Still nothing.

I climbed on my bike and nodded to Myla. She swung on like she’d done a hundred times before. Half of me didn’t want to turn the bike on because I wouldn’t be able to hear anything else, but the other half wanted to get Myla out of that garage as soon as fucking possible.

She wasn’t an idiot, and she knew me. The second the engine roared to life, Myla was pressed tightly against my back, her arms locked around my waist. We rocketed out of the parking spot and down the ramp. As we reached the lower level, the sound of Will’s bike greeted us, and I didn’t even slow down as we passed him. Less than a minute later, he was on the road behind us as I took the most convoluted route I could think of to get to Aoife’s.

“What the hell was that?” Myla asked when I’d finally parked in the driveway beside Brody’s bike.

Will parked and met my eyes.

“Not sure,” I told him. “Somethin’.”

“Always go with your gut,” he said with a firm nod. “We weren’t followed.”

“You think someone was watching us?” Myla asked, glancing around my sister’s neighborhood.

I almost laughed. When there’d actually been something off, she’d been absolutely oblivious, but when we were surrounded by my sister’s boring neighbors, she was suddenly on high alert.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her just as Saoirse came out onto the porch.

“She’s finally quiet,” my sister called out quietly. “But she’s pacing a hole in the floor.”

“Shit,” I mumbled.

Myla and Will followed me into the house.

“He was here,” Aisling informed me, pointing at the linoleum between her bare feet. “I saw him. Four times.”

“Different cars all night,” Brody said quietly from his seat at the kitchen table.

“He was in different cars,” Aisling snapped, glaring at Brody. “I told you that.”

“Who was here?” I asked, moving closer.

My baby sister looked so brittle that I was half afraid she would shatter and fall to pieces. Her hands were clenching and relaxing over and over, and her shoulders curled forward like she was preparing for a blow. She’d showered at some point, and her hair was tied up in a massive knot on the top of her head. For a second, I was stunned. I couldn’t figure out if she was really as skinny as she appeared or if the baggy pajamas she’d borrowed from Aoife and the dark circles around her eyes were making her look that way.

“Fuck,” Will murmured from behind me.

“I warned you,” I muttered under my breath.

I’d seen Aisling before she was cleaned up. Her appearance wasn’t shocking to me anymore—infuriating, yes, but not shocking. I hadn’t thought about how she’d look to Will and Myla.

I glanced over to see Myla staring at Aisling, her eyes glossy with tears.

“Aisling,” Myla said, walking forward a few steps. “Who—”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Aisling snapped. “Don’t.”

Myla froze. I opened my mouth to tell Aisling to knock it off, but stopped myself when Myla’s entire expression changed. It reminded me eerily of Tommy. One second, her face was full of emotion, tears in her eyes. The next second, it was a blank slate.

“Who’s driving by your house?” Myla asked with a little nod.

“Julian,” Aisling replied, glancing toward the windows. “It’s Julian.”

“Think about it,” I said gently. “Julian’s not drivin’ anywhere tonight.”

“I saw him,” she argued.

“Your mind’s probably playin’ tricks.” It was definitely playing tricks.

“I saw him,” she insisted. “He did this.”

Curling her hand into a fist, she left her thumb straight and ran it across her neck.

“This guy think he’s a goddamn cartoon?” Will mumbled.

“She didn’t see him,” I replied, keeping my eyes on Aisling.

“Yes, I did.” Aisling threaded her fingers into her hair and fisted it. “Jesus, why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

“You’ve had a tough couple of days,” Myla said, her voice still polite but distant. “You need sleep. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“You don’t want to?” Myla asked. “Or you’re afraid to?”

“I’m not afraid,” Aisling replied quickly.

“It’s late, Ash,” I murmured.

“I need to get out of here.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“Anywhere,” she threw her arm out and winced, pulling it back in close to her chest.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

“I don’t—”

“You think anyone’s gettin’ past Cian tonight?” Will asked. Aisling’s gaze shot to him. “You think anyone’s gettin’ past me?”

Aisling looked him up and down. “No.”

“Right,” Will said. “Who cares if that fucker’s outside? He’s not gettin’ in here, sweetheart.”

“Come on, honey,” Aunt Ashley said. She’d been standing quietly in the corner of the kitchen, but moved forward to gently wrap her arm around Aisling’s back. “I’ll lay with you for a while.”

“I don’t need you to lay with me like a child,” Aisling argued, but she let Aunt Ashley lead her forward.

“Well, I’m not going back outside tonight,” Aunt Ashley retorted. “So, you can share your bed with me anyway.”

Myla and I moved to the side as they passed us.

I jolted as Will nodded at Ashley and murmured, “Good to see you again.”

“Will,” Ashely replied, nodding back.

I was almost positive that I’d never introduced them.

“How the fuck do you know my aunt?” I asked in confusion once Aisling and our aunt started up the stairs.

“None of your business,” Will replied, not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, my god,” Myla muttered with a snicker.

“No.”

Myla laughed harder.

“Who the fuck cares?” Ronan said tiredly from his place beside the counter.

“I care,” Saoirse said, staring at Will. “How long have you known our aunt?”

“It better be more than what? Thirty years?” Myla said dryly. “He’s been with Aunt Molly forever.”

“Watch it,” Will ordered, looking at Myla.

“Just saying,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ve seen pictures. You were a stud muffin.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he grunted, staring at the ceiling as Myla giggled.

“This is fun,” Brody said sarcastically. “But can we get back to the fact that Aisling is either seein’ shit or I missed that fucker doin’ drive-bys all night?”

“He could be usin’ different cars,” Ronan said dubiously.

“Seems a little elaborate,” I muttered. “Plus, that motherfucker ain’t drivin’ anythin’ tonight.”

“How do you know?” Ronan argued.

“I know.”

“How?” he pressed.

“ Wisht ,” I barked. “Feckin’ hell, Ronan. Drop it.”

Myla stared at me wide-eyed.

“What?” I snapped.

I knew exactly what.

“Jesus, Cian, you need some sleep,” Saoirse said, her voice strained as she strode past me. “Your Irish is showing.”

It happened when I was upset. It had always happened when I was upset. When my emotions got the better of me, my father’s voice came tumbling out of my mouth.

“You good?” Myla asked me as Ronan stormed out of the room.

“I’m fine.”

Will slapped me on the back and walked over to the coffee pot, pressing a finger against it to check the temperature. It must’ve been warm enough because he proceeded to make himself at home as he searched for a mug.

“I’m going to the hospital,” Saoirse announced.

I turned to face her as Brody stood up.

“Take Brody with you,” I ordered.

“I don’t need him to come,” Saoirse argued.

“Nonnegotiable.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she griped, staring at me in exasperation.

“I’ll follow on my bike,” Brody said.

“Thank the good Lord for that,” Saoirse muttered under her breath. She hurried over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before swinging back around.

“You better hurry, Brody,” Myla mused, watching Saoirse go. “I think she’ll leave without you.”

“The fuck she will,” Brody replied, following my sister.

“I’m guessin’ it’s never a dull moment around here,” Will said, lifting a cup of coffee to his mouth.

“Coffee’s hot?” I asked tiredly, walking toward him.

“Warm enough,” he replied.

“Me too,” Myla ordered, following behind me. “Your sister always has the good stuff.”

Will watched us over the top of his mug. “No offense—”

“That’s never a good way to start a sentence.”

“You look like shit,” he said flatly, ignoring my comment. “I’m gonna go sit on the porch a while and call my woman. I’ll keep an eye on things. You two should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Myla argued.

“He’s not,” Will replied, pointing at me.

I thought about it for a moment. If I was honest, I felt ready to drop. It wouldn’t be long before I wasn’t much good to anyone. A few hours on the couch would be enough to get me level again.

“Thanks,” I said with a nod.

“No problem.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Myla’s head. “Stop talkin’ long enough for him to fall asleep, yeah? Once he’s out, I doubt your chatterin’ will wake him.”

“I don’t talk that much,” she huffed.

Will smiled at her and walked out of the room. Then it was just Myla and me in the kitchen, the house quiet around us as the front door opened and shut again.

We stared at each other.

Shit was swirling around us. The unknowns seemed to be mounting, and my baby sister was getting worse instead of better. Richie still hadn’t woken up. Somewhere, if he wasn’t dead, was a man that I’d stabbed and left to die. That man had a boss that probably wasn’t real happy.

But inside that kitchen, it was just Myla and me, and neither one of us had any idea what to say.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Myla finally asked.

“What?” I shook my head to clear it.

“Can I use your bathroom?” she asked again with a little huff of embarrassed laughter. “I didn’t go at the hospital, and we were on the road before that—”

“Jesus,” I said, cutting her off with a swipe of my hand. “Yeah, yeah, go. What are you, a camel? How the hell did you wait so long?”

“It’s a gift,” she joked as she hurried toward the downstairs toilet. “But I really have to go now.”

“Go,” I ordered when she looked at me over her shoulder.

I stood in the middle of the room for a moment before walking toward Aoife’s room. Whenever all of the kids were home at once, we always left the extra pillows and blankets on the end of her and Richie’s bed for easy access. It had never been a big deal before, but as I stepped inside their room, I paused, a wave of nostalgia hitting me hard.

It smelled like a mixture of Richie’s deodorant—the same shit he’d been using for years—and Aoife’s vanilla lotion. It smelled like home. It smelled like summer days on the river, movie nights with all of us piled on the couch, windstorms when the power went out, and we all slept in the same room because none of us wanted to sleep alone.

I shuddered and braced my hand on the doorframe.

“Hey,” Myla said softly from behind me. I must’ve been standing there a while. “Everything okay?”

“He can’t fuckin’ die,” I murmured, staring at the crisply made bed, a pile of folded blankets set neatly at the foot.

“He’s not going to die,” Myla replied, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind. “Come on, you’re about to fall asleep on your feet. Are you sleeping in here?”

“Hell no,” I replied instantly. “I’m on the couch.”

“Then let’s go to the couch.”

“Need a blanket.”

Myla was quiet for a moment. “One of those blankets?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to grab one?”

“No,” I rasped. “I’ll do it.”

She dropped her arms from around my waist, and I hurried toward the bed, pulling out my blanket from the center of the pile, careful not to disturb the others. I strode quickly back out of the room and closed the door behind me.

“Sorry,” I said, leading her back to the living room.

“For what?”

“Whatever that was.” I dropped onto the couch with a groan and immediately reached for my boots. They were the most comfortable ones I owned, but it felt like I’d been wearing them for a month straight. “Where are you goin’?”

Myla paused halfway down, her hands on each side of the recliner across the room.

“Nowhere,” she said cautiously.

“Why are you sittin’ over there?”

“You need to stretch out on the couch if you’re going to sleep,” she said reasonably. “I can curl up over here.”

“You’re gonna sleep over there?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Knock it off,” I replied tiredly, pulling off my cut. I tossed it onto the table. Next came my belt. Then my hoodie.

“Knock what off?”

“Get over here,” I ordered, laying back. My entire body relaxed into the cushions. Damn, that felt good.

“There isn’t enough room,” Myla informed me. Grabbing the blanket from the arm of the couch, she threw it wide, making sure it draped over me.

“Plenty of room,” I argued, my eyes already drooping. “Come here.”

I’m not sure how I aimed well enough to grab her before she took a step back, but somehow I caught her hand. Myla made a breathy whoop noise as she landed on top of me.

“See?” I grumbled, shifting her to the side until she was pressed between me and the back of the couch, most of her body draped over mine. “We fit.”

“Barely,” she said with a sigh, giving up on the argument as she lay her head on my shoulder.

“I like havin’ you close,” I mumbled, letting my eyes fall closed. “You need some of the blanket?”

I passed out before she answered.