Page 188 of Composed
“God, you’re gonna be insufferable when they’re teens.” I chuckle. “You were bad enough with me, and I wasn’t your own flesh and blood.”
“You were as good as.”
I drop my head onto his shoulder. “I missed you, Carter.”
“I missed you too, kiddo.” He tugs at my hair, before throwing an arm over my shoulder, and pulling me into his chest. “No more running, yeah?”
“No more running.”
His warmth curls around me, his steady breaths stir my hair, and the sweet, earthy taste of tea lingers on my tongue.
I close my eyes, relishing in just one easy moment in the midst of all the chaos. Relaxing into him, the world dims around me, becoming nothing but a dull hum.
He eases the mug from my hands, and places it on the table before settling back into the couch and hugging me close.
His chest rises softly.
The rhythmic beat of his heart soothes my whirring mind and lulls me into a quiet, dark place where the path I know I need to take doesn’t loom so heavily ahead.
The harsh crash of a cymbal startles me awake.
I lurch off the couch and fall to the floor, landing hard on my arse.
My temples pulse, my eyes straining against the bright lights. My back twinges as I sit up.
One day I’ll remember sofa sleeping isn’t good for my aging body.
Clearly today isn’t that day.
I push myself upright and sway as my sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up.
A booming floor tom sounds from beyond the lounge.
I snatch the crumpled blanket up and fold it over the back of the couch before following the sound on unsteady feet to the live room where I’m greeted by a cacophony of noise.
Loud chatter. Guitar strings plucked. A piano tickled. Drums smashed. Music rolling through the speakers, vibrating the floor.
I scrub my eyelids, half expecting the scene to change when I blink them open.
It doesn't.
Cole spots me first from his perch behind the drum kit.
Sparks sear through me when his face lights up with a beaming grin.
Lithe fingers coax the sticks in his grips into a series of rolls and flicks before they crash over the toms, his hands nothing but a blur through the air.
He so rarely plays, I’d almost forgotten he could.
I step over the threshold, stumbling back as the air is knocked out of me. “Woah.”
“Terror attack!” Axel swoops in, lifting up the miniature human attempting to Koala herself to my legs.
Pretty sure this one is Lyric—maybe.
I don't actually know how I’m supposed to tell the identical twins apart if they aren’t talking. The five-minute greeting yesterday didn’t exactly give me pointers considering I could barely see through the dull haze of tears.
The music quietens in the room, the chatter cutting off in an instant.
