Page 49 of What We Don't Say: Part One

Idris shifts in the chair, his gaze sharpening on me. He sees it, then. The way my fingers curl against the back of the couch, the way my scent thickens, the way Theo’s attention jumps to me as soon as my control has to work.

I breathe through my nose.

“Callie,” I say, turning toward her. “I want to kiss you.”

Her eyes soften, but she glances at Theo before she answers. That is new too, that small check, like his comfort has become part of her consent without either of them knowing how to name it.

I look at him. “Theo, I’m going to kiss our girl if she says yes. You can watch, tuck into her, look away, tell me yellow, tell me red, tap the couch, throw the plant book at my head. You get choices.”

Theo stares at me.

“The book is hardcover,” Idris says from the chair. “Aim carefully.”

Theo’s startled little laugh breaks through him, and Callie’s face opens at the sound.

I wait for her.

“Yes,” she says, voice soft. “Kiss me.”

I lean in slowly, giving Theo time to see every inch of it, and put my hand along Callie’s jaw. She comes toward me beforeI reach her, which nearly ruins my plan to behave. Her mouth meets mine warm and familiar, and the first taste of her steadies something in me even as it feeds the thing trying to wake under my skin.

I keep the kiss slow.

Callie doesn't.

Her fingers catch in the front of my shirt, and her mouth opens under mine with a small, hungry sound that goes straight down my spine. I angle her closer, thumb brushing her cheek, and feel Theo move before I see it. His hand tightens around hers. His breath catches. He doesn't pull away.

He leans in.

Callie feels it too. Her mouth pauses against mine, and the shiver that moves through her has nothing to do with fear.

I break the kiss before I turn greedy. My forehead rests against hers while I breathe once, twice, forcing the rut-edge back into a shape I can hold. “There you are.”

Callie’s eyes are dark when they open. “I’m right here.”

“I know.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, then let her go only enough to look at Theo. “How was that?”

Theo swallows. His gaze is fixed on Callie’s mouth, then mine, then the place where their hands are linked.

He taps the cushion once.

I look at Idris.

Idris closes the notebook and sets it aside. “Green?”

Theo nods.

Something proud and aching moves through me. “Good. Green means keep going?”

Another nod.

Idris stands, crossing the room with the kind of calm that makes everyone else’s breathing adjust around him. He doesn't come straight to Theo. He stops beside the coffee table, near the little dish of cards.

“You haven’t pulled one of these since you came home,” Idris says.

Theo goes still at once.

Callie’s hand tightens around his. “That’s okay, Star.”