Page 115 of Joker

“You feel loud.”

That gets a snort out of me before I can stop it.

She glances back toward Lexi and lowers her voice further. “She slept all night.”

Good.

“Wanted Bunny and one extra blanket,” Amy adds. “And she asked if her mommy was okay.”

That one lands in my chest.

I nod once. “Thanks, kid.”

Amy squints at me like she’s trying to figure out why I’m being weirdly sincere this early in the morning. Then she says, “You can carry her if she wakes up cranky.”

I stare at her.

She smirks.

Mini assholes. Every one of them.

I leave them to it and head toward the kitchen, because Raven needs coffee and I need something to do with my hands that doesn’t entail going back into my room and wrecking her all over again. By the time she comes down a little while later, I’ve got two mugs made and breakfast mostly handled.

Nothing fancy.

Toast that isn’t dead this time, eggs, fruit, enough food to make it look like I know what I’m doing.

Which I do. More than I should.

She stops in the doorway when she sees me. And there it is again.

That look. That soft, unguarded thing she gets for one split second before she remembers herself.

I’m starting to realize that look is going to ruin me. “Two cream, one sugars,” I say, nodding toward the mug waiting on the counter.

She blinks. “You remembered.”

I look at her flatly. “You act surprised every time I know basic shit about you.”

That gets the faintest little smile. And there it is again. Another nail in the coffin.

She crosses to the counter and wraps both hands around the mug like she needs the warmth. I watch the second it hits her, the comfort, the relief, the little exhale she doesn’t realize she lets out.

That shouldn’t feel as intimate as it does. It really fucking does.

“Lexi’s still asleep,” I tell her. “Amy’s standing watch like she’s on federal detail.”

That makes her laugh softly, and I swear to Christ, that sound is going to end me.

Not dramatic. Not loud. Just real. That laugh. That’s what gets me now. The sound of it. The way it sneaks up on me and settles somewhere under my ribs like it belongs there.

The same way she brushes Lexi’s hair back from her face when she’s distracted. The same way she looks at me when she forgets to guard herself for one dangerous second.

That’s the shit that’s killing me.

Not the obvious stuff. Not just the body or the chemistry or the fact that I’m one memory away from dragging her back to my room and not letting her out till dinner.

No.