Page 65 of Bedtime Stories
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
OREN
My cursor blinks back at me, smug and taunting. The draft on my screen refuses to move forward, no matter how many times I sigh at it.
The softpingof an incoming call makes me glance at my phone. Group video. Of course.
I should ignore it—really, I should—but the preview shows Theo’s messy curls already bouncing around, and my hand betrays me by tappingaccept.
“OREN!” Theo yells, too close to his camera.
Behind him, string lights flicker around a blanket fort that takes up half his living room. He’s got glitter stuck to his cheek.
“We’re doing pumpkin cutouts! Wanna see?”
Before I can answer, another square pops up. Lane’s face fills the screen, pale in the glow of his gaming setup. He’s got cat-ear headphones on, one paw mitten dangling from his hand.
“What up,” he mumbles, holding up a plate. “Made dino nuggets.”
He bites one in half and roars.
“Rawr,” I say flatly, though a reluctant smile tugs at me.
“Hey hey hey!”
The screen jostles as Timmy joins, shirtless with damp hair. He flexes dramatically.
“Sorry, just finished my post-shower routine.” He winks. “Looking good, right?”
Theo groans. “Nobody asked for your thirst traps.”
“Nobodydidn’task, either,” Timmy shoots back, smirking.
Their banter carries on, overlapping, loud, but comfortable. As I watch them, my fingers hovering over my keyboard, the weight in my chest eases without me realizing.
“You look grumpy,” Theo says suddenly, narrowing his eyes as if he’s peering into my soul. “Like… extra grumpy.”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly.
“Liar,” Lane cuts in, crunching into another nugget. “You get that little wrinkle in your forehead when you’re cranky.”
“There’s no wrinkle,” I protest.
“There’s totally a wrinkle,” Timmy says, leaning into his camera. “Spill, Oren. What’s crawled up your butt?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Nothing!” I blurt. “That’s the problem!”
Three faces blink back at me, wide-eyed, waiting.
And that’s when I know I’m doomed. The silence after my outburst is deafening. Even Lane stops chewing.
Theo leans forward until all I can see is one suspicious eyeball on my screen.
“Explain.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Keane keeps… I don’t know. He keepsDaddyingme.”
