“Mommmm.....” Faith’s voice was pitched at a relatively low whine. Which was fine with Nikita, considering the day was barely beginning.
“Faith, please don’t make that noise. Mom has a headache,” Nikita explained.
Michael’s lips twitched, as if he found that statement incredibly amusing. Arcing an eyebrow at her, he silently queried her. You don’t feel well? Did I keep you up...too late?
Nikita quelled Michael’s impudent gesture with a blue-eyed glare, answering him the same way. You were up...just long enough.
Michael had the grace to color and turn his face away. If he looked directly at his wife, he would be totally unable to control the laughter, bubbling up through his throat like champagne.
They were eating breakfast alone this morning. Well, alone was a question of degree. There were Michael, Nikita, Faith, Chris, Skye, Sasha, Emmy, and the littlest Samuelle, Luc. Birkoff was sleeping in, for a change, while Declan headed off to the University earlier than usual, claiming a big surprise was in the works. For who? He refused to say. Walter was up and around, readying the car to transport the school-bound children, and Miranda was already next door, helping Madeline with Kady, who had developed an upper respiratory infection. Davenport had just arrived, with Derry and the twins in tow, and Nikita was studying how relaxed the big man seemed these days.
“You’re looking well, Dav.”
Derry grinned as she slid an arm around her husband’s waist. “He’s just happy to get away from all the dogs and the puppies and the babies and--”
Davenport looped his hands around his wife’s neck and kissed her firmly. “Are you saying I left you with all the dirty work?”
She nodded. “That’s a fair assumption, Jake. What with all the animals and the twins, too, there’s always someone bloody pooping and generally stinking up the place.”
Davenport blushed. He picked up one of Derry’s hands and kissed it. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’ve been so excited about working at the school, I should’ve realized you’d need help.”
“Isn’t that just like a man? Did I say I wasn’t capable of managing on my own, Jake?”
“But we’ve got five dogs boarded, darlin’, not to mention all those puppies.” For a moment, Davenport glared at Michael, as if to remind him whose puppies they were. Michael shrugged carelessly. Then, like the mind-reader he sometimes was, Michael said calmly, “I offered to send them to the Chateau, Dav.”
“Sure, then I get the kids coming and asking where their puppies are, and I look like the bad guy,” Davenport growled.
“Well, aren’t you the grumpy one this morning, Jake? You should’ve stayed in bed.”
Davenport’s black eyes glowed with remembered passion. “We already did that, sweetheart.”
Derry smiled and said pertly, “Aye, but we didn’t sleep.”
Michael raised an eyebrow, and Davenport blinked. “Much. Didn’t sleep much, darlin’. God, you sure do exaggerate,” he finished weakly.
Nikita laughed, a mischievous smile playing about her lips. “Too much information, Dav. But thanks for sharing.”
Turning her back on the new arrivals, Nikita called over her shoulder, “Would you like something to eat?”
Davenport shook his head, then realized that Nikita couldn’t see his gesture. “Nope, we’re fine. We ate almost an hour ago. We get up with the chickens, y’know.”
“They’re dogs, Jake. Not chickens. And they bark. Every damn morning.”
Davenport cast a suspicious look at his wife. “They wake you up, sweetheart?”
Derry sighed. “No, Jake, that would be the twins.”
“You do need help. I knew it.”
“It’s just--” Derry hugged Davenport tightly, making sure he knew how much she loved him. “I don’t think I should feel this tired at my age.”
That grabbed Nikita’s attention. “You mean, running covert ops 24/7 wasn’t tiring, but having a husband, two kids, and seventeen dogs is? Maybe you need vitamins.”
Derry smiled. “I’ll have some of whatever you take, Nik. You always seem to have plenty of energy.”
Now it was Nikita’s turn to smile. Coyly. “I think having the right husband makes all the difference.”
Michael drained his coffee in one big gulp, managing not to spill a drop. He stood up, crossed the kitchen to where his wife was, and wrapped both arms around her waist. “Must be all those bedtime stories I tell.”
Nikita stared intently into Michael’s green eyes, which seemed to have caught fire somewhere along the way. Derry glanced from one to the other, puzzled. “Michael tells you stories, Nik?”
“Yeah,” she replied huskily. She never took her eyes off Michael, feeling his lambent green gaze on her, like a physical caress. “He’s a world-class storyteller.”
Derry’s silver-grey eyes glinted with genuine interest. “Maybe I should hire him to come straighten me out, then.”
Nikita’s eyes fell to Michael’s mouth. She could feel him kiss her, even though they weren’t close enough to touch. “Sorry. He...uh...only does me.”
Michael chuckled. Davenport rolled his eyes, poking Derry in the ribs. “I don’t-- What? What, Jake?”
“You want a story? I’ll tell you a story, darlin’. It’s about this beautiful Irish princess who--”
“Maybe I need a new story, Jake.”
Davenport kissed her, effectively shutting her up. Brushing his mouth against her ear, he whispered, so low, only she could hear, “Hey, Sheherazade, get on the clue bus.”
Derry’s eyes went perfectly round with surprise, then realization. “Ohhh,” she said softly. “Kiss me again, Jake, so I get the big picture.”
Davenport groaned. “Honey, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
“You corrupted me,” she chided. “Now you have to...stand and deliver.”
“Isn’t that something highwaymen used to say, back in the 17th or 18th century?”
“Why, Jake, you’ve actually read a history book,” she exclaimed incredulously.
“But I thought it referred to the demand for jewels or money,” Davenport added.
“Oh, Jake. Not every valuable comes with a price tag.”
Davenport grinned and kissed his wife again. “True. Some things *are* priceless.”
“Mommm....” Faith tried again to get her mother’s attention. To no avail.
Finally, in complete exasperation, Faith turned to her baby brother, Luc. “I might as well be talking to you, Luc! You prolly don’t get too many people listening to you either!” She picked up the baby’s rattle, shaking it in front of his face, and Luc looked transfixed. But whether it was because of the sound or the sight of the rattle, or because he simply loved being around his older sister was anybody’s call.
“Gahh!” Luc burbled. His tiny hands danced playfully in the air before he grabbed an errant strand of Faith’s long auburn hair. “Ow!”
Nikita whirled around, catching only the noise and not the sense of what happened. “Fee! What are you doing to Luc? Torturing him?”
“Mommm....that is so unfair,” Faith said, setting her chin mutinously.
“I don’t have to be fair, I’m your mom.”
“Kita!” Michael hissed.
“Mom!” Chris protested.
“Shit,” Sasha said before he could call back the words. Everyone turned to look at him, and Sasha blushed, his skin berry-red with embarrassment. “Jeez, your mom’s tougher than my Da, Fee.”
Nikita felt Michael’s eyes on her. She faced him, wincing as she did so, sensing his censure before he ever said a word. “That should never happen again, Kita.”
He didn’t have to tell her that. It wasn’t even how she really felt. She wasn’t burned out. Honest. Well, maybe she was a tiny bit crispy-fried around the edges, but hey...it came with the territory, right?
Faith watched, wide-eyed, as her father more or less put her mother in her place. In surprisingly few words. He wasn’t trying to humiliate Nikita. That wasn’t his intention. But he never wanted to hear such an egregiously arrogant statement from either of them again.
Suitably chastened, Nikita bit her lip, looking for all the world more like her six-year old daughter than Faith did. “I know. It won’t.”
Turning to face Faith, Nikita did something that few people, much less parents, had the sense to do. She apologized for being wrong. “I’m sorry, Faith. That wasn’t right. And...and it wasn’t true either. Moms and Dads should be fair.”
Faith jumped up and hugged Nikita around the waist. “It’s okay, Mom-Mom. I still love you.”
Nikita ruffled her daughter’s silken hair and smiled. “Good. Cause we’ve got a whole lot more years together, pumpkin.”
At last, Nikita drew back and looked at Faith. “I know you wanted to say something before, Faith. What was it?”
“Oh, that.” Faith wrinkled her nose, looking like a pint-sized version of Nikita, except for the obvious similarity to Michael’s coloring. “I just wanted to know....”
“Yes?”
“Where do babies come from?”
Michael was glad he didn’t have any more coffee to swallow. He would have choked. Nikita, on the other hand, had a mouthful of orange juice when Faith launched her question. She spat orange juice all over herself and the kitchen table.
Chris jumped back a foot or so, yelling, “Ewww” in a voice only children have. Sasha burst out laughing, and Skye caught his eye and immediately began to giggle. Emmy merely looked puzzled. Luc drooled. Davenport’s mouth fell open, and Derry blinked, resorting to her Section face for fear of laughing so hard, she would do herself an injury.
“I wasn’t expecting that question for at least another two or three years, Kita,” Michael murmured.
“They’re your kids, Michael. Always ahead of the curve,” Davenport cracked.
Michael glared at Davenport, and Davenport stuck out his tongue. It was definitely a sign of how much times had changed, that they could all relax this much with one another. Free of Section. Free to be who they really were.
Michael sighed. “I’ll remind you of this moment when it’s your turn, Dav. Don’t think I won’t.”
Before Davenport could reply, Faith repeated her question, adding, “Hey, no one answered me. How come no one ever listens to me? Is it cause I’m a kid? Or cause I’m a girl?”
Sasha laughed and patted Faith on the shoulder. “Both.”
Faith made a face at Sasha. “That’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s true,” Sasha insisted.
“I hate you,” Faith swore vehemently.
“No, you don’t. You like me cause I treat everybody the same. Even if you *are* a girl.”
Faith blew out an exasperated breath. He was right. “Okay, then, you answer my question.”
“Sure. I’ll fill you in later,” Sasha said, glancing quickly at the adults surrounding them.
Michael suddenly found his voice. God, it was like watching a train wreck. Inevitable. Unstoppable. But fascinating. In a gruesome sort of way.
“Oh, no, you won’t, Sasha. We can handle things just fine here,” Michael managed to say with great, if not complete, equanimity.
Sasha shrugged, as if to say, Then handle them. I’m not stopping you.
“Well?” Faith inquired, her verdant green eyes fixed on her father’s face.
Michael looked wan. How come he got all the hard questions?
Think, Michael, think. You were always good at thinking on your feet. How hard could this possibly be? Remember, she’s only a little girl. Don’t give her more information than she asked for. Hell, what was it she asked again? Oh, yeah, where do babies come from?
“Well, Faith...” Michael made an effort to take a calming breath and center himself. Oh, how Zen, he thought, what in the name of all that’s Holy am I doing?
“There are boys...and there are girls....” he began, only to be interrupted by nervous tittering from the peanut gallery. His children. Declan and Birkoff’s children. Laughing at him.
He raised an eyebrow, and the laughter stopped at once. Good, he didn’t need to say anything. He was still in control. Or at least, he thought he was.
Davenport slid his chin into his hand and looked intently at Michael. “Gee, Dad, can I listen, too? This sounds...interesting.”
Screw you, thought Michael, sending impossibly sharp green daggers Davenport’s way. Wait, perhaps that wasn’t such a great choice of words, under the circumstances. He sighed and buried his face in his hands.
Derry smiled sweetly at Michael’s obvious discomfiture. “You poor thing, giving up already, Michael?”
He looked up, almost bleary-eyed. “This would be much easier without an audience.”
Almost everyone, including Nikita, stood up to leave. “No! Faith, you and Chris stay.”
“We’ll be late to school, Dad,” Chris protested.
“And I’ll be late getting to the University. If I can stay, you can stay.”
Chris pondered whether that made any sense at all, but he decided that his normally sensible father was flustered beyond belief at this point. He shrugged and glanced at his sister, shaking his head imperceptibly. That was his way of saying, You had to ask this now, didn’t you?
En masse, people started exiting the kitchen, almost trampling one another in their efforts to escape Michael’s hapless explanation. In the end, the room was cleared of everyone but Michael, Nikita, Faith, and Chris. “When boys and girls grow up, they get certain feelings--”
“Like when I got food poisoning, Dad? From the bad chicken salad?”
“No, Fee, not like that.” Michael raked both hands through his hair and began to sweat. Why had he come to breakfast? He had a lecture to give 200 freshman students in less than an hour. And *that* didn’t scare him as much as this did.
“This is a good feeling, Fee,” Nikita interjected, a sunny smile on her face. God bless you, doucette. I’m so glad you didn’t desert me when you easily could have.
Faith looked distinctly puzzled. “When does this happen?”
“Well...when a boy becomes a man, he goes through certain changes.”
Now Chris looked interested. “Like what, Dad?”
This is going to be the world’s longest discussion, isn’t it? Michael blinked and thought hard. “He starts getting a beard, for one thing.” He wasn’t about to start explaining some of those other changes. Not at this hour. Not at the breakfast table.
“Anyway...when the boy and the girl grow up, they fall in love and--”
“Why?”
“Why what, Fee?”
“Why do they fall in love?”
Michael opened his mouth to speak, and then he abruptly shut it again. “Um...”
“You don’t know, do you, Daddy?”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t know why people fall in love, do you?”
Michael briefly wondered if wishing his daughter would stop asking questions would be considered child abuse. “I know why your mother and I fell in love, Fee,” he stated confidently.
“Really? Why?” Faith wasn’t trying to play devil’s advocate, she truly wasn’t, but this was the first time she had her father’s complete and undivided attention since Luc was born, and she wanted to make it last as long as humanly possible.
“Kita?”
“Yes, Michael?” Nikita smiled patiently, and Michael thought, I should kiss her, thank her for having these wonderful children...it might keep me from contemplating self-inflicted violence.
“Could I please have another cup of coffee, doucette? This one with extra caffeine in it?”
“Of course.”
Chris tugged at the cuff of Michael’s shirt. “Dad, you didn’t answer the question. Why did you and Mom fall in love?”
“I knew I loved your mother from the first moment I saw her, Chris. She was beautiful...but that was just the outside. She was full of life, in a way that I wasn’t, and she made me believe that good people could survive living in a very bad place. If they had each other.” The entire time he was speaking, Michael never took his eyes off Nikita’s face. She was utterly transfixed by the love and unabashed emotion in those eyes.
“Michael....”
Faith smiled. This was better than school any day. “And how did you fall in love with Daddy, Mom?”
Nikita sat down on Michael’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers restlessly caressing the nape of his neck, Nikita looked intently into Michael’s bright green eyes. “He was the other half of me, Fee. It was like meeting someone for the first time and then realizing that you recognize him, that it’s like he’s always been there, inside of you, waiting for the right moment to come out.” She chuckled softly. “Does that make any sense?”
Faith nodded. “It sounds nice, Mom.”
There was a moment of silence as both sides digested this information, and then Michael suddenly realized that he still had not answered Faith’s question.
“Anyway, Faith, when two people fall in love, they can make babies.”
Faith gasped and looked utterly horrified. Chris patted her on the back, but even that did nothing to remove the look of complete terror from her face.
“What’s wrong, Fee? What’s wrong?”
Her voice was so low, it was beneath a whisper, forcing both parents to listen closely to make out the actual words. “Me and Connor? We made a baby?”
Michael’s eyes grew wide, and Nikita paled. “Um...Faith? What exactly did you and Connor do, sweetie?”
“He gave me a kiss, Mom,” Faith said, sounding like someone was driving bamboo under her fingernails.
“It takes a lot more than kissing to make a baby, Faith,” Nikita asserted.
“It does?” Faith sounded hopeful as well as relieved.
“Yes,” Nikita confirmed. “A man has to, um, sleep with--”
“It happens when you’re asleep?” Faith all but shrieked, setting a new decibel record.
“No, honey, there’s no sleeping involved, really.”
“Then why’d you say there was?”
“Well, it’s just an expression.”
“Well, that sounds just plain dumb, if you ask me.” Chris nodded, agreeing completely with his twin.
“You know the part that Chris uses to go to the bathroom?”
Faith nodded slowly and a bit reluctantly.
“Well, that’s what the man puts inside the woman.”
“He puts his peepee inside her? Oh, gross, Mom. Ewwwww.”
Even Chris looked like he was having serious doubts since his mother took over the conversation. “I have to do that? When I grow up?” The look on Chris’ face said it all. No way. Not ever. You must be kidding.
“Then the baby grows inside the mommy’s tummy?”
“Yuk, Mom. Is that why you kept throwing up, Mom? Cause the baby was kicking you in your tummy?”
Nikita looked at Michael. “Help.”
Michael shook his head. “Oh, no, you’re doing just fine, Kita. I have to go. Who wants a ride to school with Dad?”
Faith and Chris both yelled, “Me!” at the same time, their arms shooting into the air. Michael smiled. “And who wants to ride upfront with Dad?”
Faith bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. “Me, me, me, pick me, Daddy!”
Michael lifted Faith into his arms, and motioned to Chris to follow him out to the car. “Let’s go.”
In a flurry of noise and confusion, they were gone. Nikita leaned forward, bracing her forehead on her intertwined hands. “Well,” she said to herself, out loud. “That certainly went well.”
While Michael was congratulating himself for having escaped the aftermath of the infamous “Birds ‘n’ the Bees” lecture, Declan was working furiously on the big surprise he planned for Sasha’s birthday. Standing in the ancient room that passed for an office for all of the TA’s on staff at the University, Declan smiled. “He’s going to be seven,” he said proudly to another teaching assistant.
The young woman returned the smile. Declan was well-liked at the University in general, and by the Art Department in particular. “Seven? You must have started young.”
An odd look crossed Declan’s face for a moment, but he brightened again soon afterwards. “Aye,” he agreed, not elaborating any further.
That was the hard part of life after Section. No one else could know where they came from. What they had done. Who they were. Sometimes it was difficult to come up with a plausible explanation. Sometimes he just hated having to lie to people. People who had become friends. It made him feel like a hypocrite, even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. Circumstances beyond my control, that’s all.
Hell, he was lucky he even had a life to complain about. Wasn’t that the plain, unvarnished truth? But there was a real pain in his heart when it came to hiding his relationship with Sey and their children. Actually, given the Bohemian nature of University life, no one would be surprised to learn that Declan was gay. Or that he was in a committed relationship for almost seven years. But there was no way he could share the true history of either of their children with anyone, and that made him inexplicably sad.
He was so damn proud of Sasha, he felt like he could bounce off the walls without any effort at all. And Emmy...the little girl made his heart sing with a mere smile. So he sometimes let people assume that there had been a woman once. Somewhere. No longer in his life. Who gave him his son and his daughter. Some people probably even thought that this woman, mystery that she was, was responsible for Declan’s occasional melancholy. He heard talk. They thought he was widowed, divorced, left flat. They sympathized without speaking of it directly.
He sighed. He could hear Sey’s voice in his head. Why do you care what other people think, Dec? Why do you have to tell them anything? They’re not entitled to an explanation just because they think they freaking know you. They don’t know you. *I* know you, Dec. Me. I’m the only one. The only one who truly knows you. The only one who truly loves you. The only one who truly matters.
It was one of the longest speeches he had ever heard Sey make, but he was right. And Declan suddenly realized that he loved his life, exactly the way it was, no apologies to anyone. It made a difference.
“Pam,” he addressed the other teaching assistant. Pam smiled expectantly. “Yes?”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Did I ever show you a picture of my partner?”
The younger woman shook her head.
With that, Declan proceeded to introduce a bit of reality into the world he inhabited at the University. It wasn’t as hard as he thought. And if Pam was anything to go by, things were going to be just fine.
Pam held the photo by its edges and exclaimed, “He looks sweet, Declan.”
“He is,” Declan agreed.
“How long have you two been together?”
“Almost seven years.”
“Wow. You beat me by four years. Is he an artist like you?”
“No...more like a scientist.”
That made Pam smile. “Ah, he’s the computer whiz who taught you how to reconstruct your files that time.”
Declan looked vaguely startled. “You remember that?”
“Some of us really listen, Declan.”
Declan beamed. This was really quite nice. Pam handed back the photo of Sey, and Declan gave her something else to look at. His children. *Their* children.
“Oh, Declan, your kids are beautiful!” the young woman cried out. “Well, your daughter looks just like you. What’s her name?”
“Emmy.”
“And this is obviously your partner’s son. The resemblance is striking.” She looked lost in thought for a second, then handed back the pictures. “So that’s Sasha.”
“Aye.”
“You know how hard seven-year old boys are to buy for?”
“I’m beginning to find out,” Declan said.
“Want some help?”
“Sure.” Declan smiled gratefully as he replaced the photos in his wallet. Little did he know how complicated things were going to become.
As it turned out, Pam was a very helpful young woman to accompany a flustered father on an impromptu shopping trip. “See, most boys Sasha’s age love blood and guts and gore. Stuff like that.”
Declan winced, literally holding onto what passed for his lunch before it resurfaced unexpectedly. “Umm...Sasha’s not like that.”
“Oh, come on, Declan. Most boys are.”
Declan shook his head vehemently, sending his long red curls swinging back and forth. “He’s not like other boys. I swear.”
Pam suddenly frowned. “You mean he’s, um, like a girl?”
That took Declan by such surprise, he burst into a fit of nearly uncontrollable laughter. “Umm...no. He’s just...Sasha.”
“Gee, thanks, Declan, that really helps a lot.”
Pam sighed and looked down the aisle of the toy store. “What do you think he would like?”
“Seriously? To grow up,” Declan quipped tongue-in- cheek.
Pam blinked curiously. “Oh, was there a possibility that he might not?” she asked, thinking that perhaps Declan’s son was ill at some point.
Declan became increasingly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Passing a hand over his face quickly, he felt high color blossom on both cheeks. Pam didn’t know how close to the truth she was, but he could never tell her or anyone else that.
She reached for his hand and patted it absently, as if he didn’t seem quite like himself. He wasn’t. He was beginning to regret this shopping expedition. Sharing a little piece of himself with another person had seemed like a genuinely good idea earlier. And it probably still was. But shopping was hard on his nerves under the best of circumstances. And now it was hopelessly complicated by Pam’s implied questions and subsequent assumptions.
“I-uh...I’ve gotta get back, Pam.” He looked significantly at his watch. “Afternoon class.”
“Oh. Okay.” Now Pam sounded a bit hurt. Like he was putting her off. He wasn’t. He really did have another class. Why did his protests sound too loud in his own head? He wasn’t trying to get away from her. He wasn-- Okay, he was. He wanted to go shopping for Sasha’s birthday with Sey. Not Pam. Failing that, he would settle for shopping alone. Reluctantly. But he would.
It wasn’t Pam’s fault. She just wasn’t Sey. Could he help it if he had a one-track mind when it came to the people he loved and shared his life with?
***
The afternoon passed relatively quickly. Declan put his sketchbook away, and he was about to leave the building for the day when Pam accosted him. “Hey, I found just the thing for Sasha!” she exclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing his arm.
At the same moment that Declan looked down at his arm, he vaguely registered movement out of the corner of his eye. By the time he looked up, whoever or whatever it was had gone.
Declan calmly disengaged his arm from Pam’s overzealous grip and bid her goodbye. She tried to tell him that she had found something special enough for his son, but Declan waved her off, hoping she would take his aloof manner for moodiness and leave it at that.
Superstition was not a significant part of Declan’s belief system. He prided himself on being relatively objective, as a rule, even as he admitted to having a curiously emotional streak, at least when it came to family. But right now, everything in Declan was screaming at him to go home. Go home now. If he didn’t know better, he would swear he had some major damage control ahead.
***
Declan got out of the car and was immediately tackled by Sasha and Emmy. “Da! Da! Daddy said you went shopping for my birthday!”
He smiled enigmatically, reaching down to ruffle Sasha’s hair. “Aye, kiddo, I did. Sorry to disappoint you, though. I don’t have it with me.”
“Is that cause it’s too big to carry home?” Sasha asked eagerly.
“Too big?” Declan shook his head gently. “Not really.”
“But you...um...did get me something, didn’t you, Da?” Now Sasha looked uncertain. As if something were bothering him.
“Of course, kiddo. I wouldn’t forget your birthday, would I?” Declan was only mildly perturbed by the ease with which he uttered the lie. He couldn’t tell Sasha that he hadn’t bought anything yet. What would he think?
Sasha grinned, looking for all the world like an impudent puppy. Bouncing and rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels, Sasha was constantly in motion. “Didn’t think so, Da.”
“Where’s your father?” Declan asked.
Emmy tugged on her father’s pantsleg, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “I’m here, too, Da,” she caroled, demanding her rightful share of attention.
“You certainly are, Princess Em,” Declan said, rubbing noses with her.
***
Dropping his portfolio by the door, Declan strode into the kitchen, brightening as soon as he saw Sey. “You’re up!” he called, referring to Sey sleeping late that morning.
“Yeah...” Sey mumbled, pushing his heavy dark hair out of his eyes. “Not too awake, though.”
Declan wrapped his arms around Sey, finding his mouth with practiced ease. When he kissed him, however, Sey didn’t respond right away. In fact, he looked distinctly out of sorts.
“What’s wrong?” Declan asked, even as he felt Sey pulling away from him.
“Nothing. Prolly should have stayed in bed.” Sey sounded vaguely irritated. By what?
Ordinarily, Declan would have made a joke about wishing that Sey had stayed in bed, just so he could join him there. But this was clearly not the time to make jokes.
“Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?” Declan asked, tightlipped.
Sey finally looked directly into Declan’s eyes, and Declan wished he hadn’t. “Don’t you know?”