Page 77 of Little Nightmare

Best idea we’ve ever had as friends. We realized we were all doing feedings at relatively the same time like the kids knew or something or were telepathically putting both families through hell—so we FaceTimed, me and Ivan and Bella and Raven. It was nice.

Really nice.

I finally had a family, just not in the way I thought.

We said our goodbyes, and by the time I had Lily in her carrier and then in the car, Raven had already gone to the driver’s side. “What are you doing?”

“Driving.” She shrugged. “You were up early. I know you’re tired, you run your hands through your hair when you’re tired then tug on it like you’re trying to wake yourself up.”

“True and yet it never works, the waking up part.”

“Next time I’ll pull.” She offered a serene smile.

We both froze.

The entire world could have burned around us.

That’s all it took, one off-the-cuff comment that could turn sexual and the tension was back.

It was the longest I’d gone not touching a woman—the day I said I do I’d meant it. I just didn’t know it also meant I wouldn’t ever have sex again—ever.Ever!

She cleared her throat and started the car, pulling us out into traffic. We both ignored the silence until we got to our house. By the time I had Lily changed and into her crib I was ready to face plant into dinner or the next day. Some bodyguard I was at that moment.

I checked the cameras again, the front door, looked for a shadowy figure and found none, then went into the kitchen. “Need any help?”

Raven stared at the pot roast. “I think I left it in too long.”

“It looks…great.” It was a lie. It was burnt, all of it. I’d chew it until my teeth broke in half. She’d been too proud. “Look, we can just cut off some of the top and eat the inside.”

“I tried that over in this general area.” She pointed with the knife. “Seriously it said to put it on high for six hours!”

“Show me.” I suggested.

She handed me the saved recipe on her phone. I smiled and handed it back. “Was it frozen?”

“No, why would?—”

I nodded.

She cursed. “Stupid exhaustion! I missed the frozen part!”

“Which,” I said gently as I picked up the roast and tossed it in the trash, “should tell you that had it been frozen, this meat would be perfect.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or just lying your ass off.”

“I’m serious.” I washed my hands and reached for her shoulders, something I rarely did—touch her. “I’m too tired to make a sandwich, and you shouldn’t be on your feet. So we lie to Ivan, we steal pictures off Pinterest if we have to—and we order pizza instead, deal?”

“We take it to our graves.” Tears filled her eyes.

I frowned. “What? Is something—” I dropped my hands.

She quickly reached for them and held them.

I didn’t know what to do other than hold hers back.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

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