Page 154 of Please Open Me
“Come on, monster,” I sighed, scooping her up. “Let’s go check on your mama.”
Her little body radiated heat against my chest, sticky with drool and baby sweat. Kids were gross. But this one was mine. I pressed my lips into her curls anyway, kissed the mess.
Steam rolled out the bathroom door as I cracked it open, lavender thick in the air. Rosie coughed dramatically, almost drowned out by the audiobook Mason had playing in the shower. G-rated, surprisingly, usually the stuff Mason listened to rivaled most porn.
“Shhh,” I whispered. “We’re going to surprise her.”
Rosie mimicked me with her own garbled shhh, spitting on my glasses in the process.
“Exactly.” I wiped them clean.
Together we crept to the glass shower door. There was a small tile step separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Too bad for her, I wasn’t vertically challenged. I slid the door open with one hand.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I crooned.
Mason yelped. Rosie flinched and whimpered, her whole body quaking with betrayal.
“Oh no,” Mason gasped, snatching her from me, naked, wet, unbothered by modesty. “I’m so sorry.”
Her apologies didn’t stop Rosie from unleashing what sounded like fake tears. Mason bounced her gently, whispering nonsense–maybe French, maybe gibberish–into her ear.
The tears ended abruptly when Rosie spotted Mason’s breast. Like a heat-seeking missile, she latched on, greedy and loud.
Mason squeaked. “No, no, no–” She tried to pull the baby away, but slick water made it impossible. Rosie only sucked harder, stubborn fist curled against her chest.
“Mason,” I said, biting down a laugh, “she’s thirsty. Just let her be.”
Her wide eyes cut to mine. “She can’t nurse in the shower, Sebastian! I’m going to drop her, and she’ll drown!”
Suppressing my smirk, I stepped forward and took the baby. Rosie popped off with a wet smack, milk dribbling down her chin, immediately squawking for more.
“Oh, hush,” I muttered, setting her on the bathmat. She was warm, close, and safe—none of which stopped her from wailing. Babies were dramatic assholes.
Mason flinched at the sound. “Seb, she’s going to scream the whole time if you don’t give her back.”
“You just told me she couldn’t nurse–plus she'll live two minutes without your boob,” I said, handing Mason a towel and killing the water. “You look pale, princess.”
“I am pale,” she argued, though her knees knocked as she took my hand.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, ignoring the fact I’d heard her retching for the past hour.
She shook her head, sinking onto the mat beside Rosie. The baby latched instantly, sucking in contented gulps while Mason smoothed her hair, but there was something heavy behind her eyes.
“You skipped dinner last night,” I reminded her.
Her throat bobbed. “I didn’t mean to… Mattie was supposed to bring food back after feeding Nyx.”
I blinked. “The fuck is a Nyx?”
“Her ferret,” Mason murmured, offering Rosie a finger.
The baby wrapped her whole fist around it. Mason lit up at the gesture, but the sadness didn’t leave her face.
“Hey,” I nudged her shoulder gently. “You good?”
“Mattie never came back,” she admitted. Her voice cracked, thick with unshed tears.
I felt bad. Really, I did. But my chest still whispered good riddance. Mason didn’t need me gloating, so I crouched down and braced my forearms on my knees.
