Andrei dries his hands on his jeans, and I walk over to him to wipe my hands on his shirt, to dry them. I can feel the hardness of his stomach and the bulk of muscles under it. That alone makes my face heat up and burn brighter than a darn traffic light.
We shower together, but I never really touch him. Every time, I stick to my side of the shower, too scared to accidentally brush his skin or somehow provoke him. Andrei won’t make a move on me, he is nothing but respectful, but everyone’s patience has limits, so it’s better not to test it.
Even in bed, I never really touch him, let alone run my hands over him like that. It’s quite comforting to know Andrei is there while I am at my most vulnerable, completely exposed. I know he won’t let anyone hurt me, and I trust him not to either.
“You alright there?” he asks, amused at me drying my hands on his clean shirt.
“Yep,” I chuckle.
Andrei grabs my wrists when I pull away, wraps them around his waist, and steps closer to wrap his strong arms around me. I let out a breath and rest my cheek on his chest. My eyes flutter closed as I inhale his scent and enjoy the warmth that radiates off him.
I feel his nose in my hair as he does the same. His scent is intoxicating, and his closeness is so soothing, I could easily fall asleep without noticing it.
“Come on, we should head home before it gets too late,” he suggests, and I look up at him.
His eyes flicker to Donnie for a second, and I smile at him. “Hi Donnie,” I greet, and he smiles back at me. It’s just a second until the eyes flicker back to Andrei’s hypnotic eyes.
He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. It’s not more than a brief brush of lips, but my heart still skips a beat. Then, it races, as if I have an inner countdown happening until my heart bursts.
“Come on,” he repeats and lets go of me. I walk to the other side of the car and wait for him to unlock it, more than ready to go back home with him. Home.
Katya
Ezra has barely said anything since Sage and Andrei left.
Instead of acting like the adult he is, he stormed into the room and quietly closed the door, fucking hell, I know he wants to slam it and break something. He is angry, but I don’t know what he is angry at, and I don’t think he knows either.
Maddox has been whining for weeks, wanting out, he’s only managed to force control a few times to slip out since the twins were born. And a lot of it had to do with me, pulling on him through the bond to help Maddox reign over the tight control Ezra has over him.
“You two are just as bad as each other, you do realize that, right?” Mateo speaks up.
I turn around to glare at him and nearly soften up when I notice what he is doing. My mate is feeding Eziah the last remnants of his bottle.
The kid is a feeding machine, while Marabella is the smaller one, and she eats way less. However, she cries way more and demands more attention. She rarely settles, so I am surprised how long she has slept today. As a matter of fact, both have slept rather well.
But back to the topic at hand, I roll my eyes at Mateo. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him as a yawn escapes me mid-sentence.
I place Marabella’s half-drunk bottle down on the counter. She is already asleep, and as I brush her cheek with my fingers, she stirs.
“You need to burp her, she will scream the place down otherwise,” Mateo lectures, looking at Marabella in my arms, and I glare at him.
“I know, Mateo, no need to state the obvious!” I snap at him.
He lets out a breath and mutters something under his breath. I ignore his antics as I maneuver Marabella over my shoulder and rub her back while she sleeps, hoping she burps.
She is a colicky baby, and her screams of pain make me want to tear off my ears. She has a set of lungs, and when she gets upset, she has a tendency to unleash her powers, which is why I don’t want her sleeping in her brother’s crib. What if she accidentally kills him?
I know that if anything were to happen, it wouldn’t be anything intentional. She is just a baby, but I can’t be too careful when it comes to these two. Accidents happen, disasters happen, and many die for the stupidest reasons. I don’t want that for my children, I want both of my babies to be safe and live to their full potential.
“You know, you could try not snapping and snarling every time you speak to us,” Mateo grumbles as he gets up from his seat and walks out of the kitchen.
Instant guilt smashes into me, I know I’m short-tempered, but leaving them here just to run around like wild animals scares me.
The TV flicks on in the living room and I let out a couple of deeper breaths as I brace myself. I walk out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom, only to stop when I see Mateo sitting on the couch and decide to join him.
“Shh, he has just fallen asleep,” Mateo whispers, bouncing the rocker with his foot. He leans over, pulls the other closer, and gestures to Marabella over my shoulder. I lean toward him and let him take her. Mateo carefully places her in her rocker and bounces it with his other foot.
We watch the news in silence, enjoying each other’s company. This is one of those extremely rare moments we can spend together, so I keep quiet. We have been arguing back and forth about the tiniest of things since the twins were born, so a moment of silence is more needed than anyone can imagine.
For a while, everything seems better than ever. That is until I hear movement upstairs.
“Think he is alright?” I ask Mateo, looking at the ceiling.
“Well, he’s been locking Maddox up. I’d say he is feeling pretty shitty right about now,” Mateo observes as Marge comes out with the folding.
I get up and move to the other couch to help. It has become an afternoon ritual. We watch the 6 o’clock news and fold the day’s laundry together. She is the only person I interact with besides Jasmine and my mates.