later.”
“Break it up, for fuck’s sake.” Zayde’s irritated voice came from behind Caiden.
“Workout time is sacred,” Cade whispered loudly, making me laugh.
“Sorry, Z. I’ll leave you both to it. Thanks for sorting it, though.” I left them to the sounds of Zayde muttering about putting a pin code lock on the basement door and rejoined Kinslee on the sofa.
A while later, the boys came in, picking up their phones and disappearing off to make some calls.
“All sorted?” Kinslee asked, when they finally returned. Cade sank down next to me and tugged me into his lap, sideways on, so my legs were stretched out across the sofa cushions. I curled into him, his body all warm and freshly showered, and he kissed the top of my head before replying to Kinslee.
“Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, really. Most of the photos were of the ball, and everyone’s selfies from the after-party.”
“What’s the fucking fascination with selfies, anyway?”
I turned to face Zayde. “Z. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a moody bastard?”
He gave me one of his trademark blank, icy looks, but there was no malice behind it. Still made me shiver, though. Just a bit.
“Leave the poor man alone,” Kinslee said. “Come on, Zayde, show me how to play this game.”
Cade and I both watched, fascinated, as Zayde actually took the time to explain to her how to use the console controller, and once she got the hang of whatever shooting game they were playing, he seemed to relax, more or less, the tension gone from his jaw, and his mouth no longer set in a hard line. We stayed like that for a while, the two of them becoming competitive in the game, while Cade and I spoke about nothing of consequence, just enjoying this bit of time we had before we had to go back to reality.
We didn’t get to relax for long. Around twenty minutes later, Weston and Cassius burst in the door, Weston carrying a cardboard box in his arms, covered in parcel tape. He placed it down on the coffee table.
“This is it. Z, you wanna do the honours?”
At his words, Zayde paused the game, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small object. He pressed it with his thumb and a blade sprang out.
More knives. Why was I not surprised?
He carefully sliced the box open, then sat back, letting Weston take over again. Pure excitement filled his eyes as he reached into the box, bringing out various objects one by one, all packaged in bubble wrap, which he laid out on the coffee table next to the box.
“This is better than Christmas.” His grin was contagious, and I couldn’t help smiling in return, as he began the tedious task of unwrapping all the layers of bubble wrap.
Cassius sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, his head next to Kinslee’s legs and his own legs stretched out in front of him. “Hey, Kins? You any good at head massages, babe? I’ve got a banging headache.”
She tutted and rolled her eyes, but I saw her smile. “If I must. But you owe me one, okay?”
“Deal.”
Kinslee moved, seating herself with her legs either side of his head, then leaned forwards, dragging her fingers through his hair, across his scalp.
He groaned. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Your hands are magic.”
“So I’ve been told,” she said dryly.
“You wanna give me a head massage, too?” Cade spoke next to my ear, his voice all low and husky. I was about to reply, when Zayde interjected.
“It’s like a fucking massage parlour in here. Next you’ll be—”
“Happy endings massage!” Cassius exclaimed, drowning him out. “You up for doing that, Kinslee?”
“No.” She swatted lightly at the side of his head before continuing to massage him, and he laughed.
“It was worth a try. Now, West, you ready to show us what you’ve got?”
I made a mental note to ask Caiden what was up with Zayde, later. Not that he’d probably tell me, but I couldn’t help wondering if something was going on. He’d been more irritable than usual today. Maybe it was me, but something about him seemed off.
Gathering my thoughts, I returned my focus to the items Weston now had out on display on the table, discarded bubble wrap lying around everywhere. I reached for a piece and started popping it absent-mindedly, as Weston shuffled through the objects, inspecting each one carefully.
“Chuck me a bit of that bubble wrap, will ya?” Cass asked in a low tone. I passed him