?
When I get out of the shower, my son is passed out, snoring and all. I grab his phone and take a picture of him so I can show him later how he could “drink me under the table.”
I glance toward the door left cracked open, since the whole hall is full of our crew, and see the Brit standing there.
“You meeting your friend?”
“I’m supposed to, but I’m not sure I want to leave the minor passed out and unaccompanied.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Kids.”
“This floor is secure. He’ll be fine.”
“How’s Harper?”
“Well, she is now in Tessa’s room in the suite because she’s angry at Maddox. Maddox is sulking and probably going to—” He stops when Maddox storms across their suite with its door open, as well. “In five, four, three, two …” He lifts up one finger, and Maddox walks back, carrying Harper across the hall as she cries.
Tessa is behind them, watching. She doesn’t see us standing there because she does a silent little temper tantrum. She stomps her foot, flails her arms, and then finally bites her fist to stop from screaming. Then she looks over at us, and those baby blues get huge.
I don’t smile, even though I want to. Brody looks at her with concern. She lets out a sigh, and then my phone chimes, alerting me to a text.
I read it. “José is here, Tessa. You wanna go down and say hello?”
“Sure, let me get changed.” She walks back into her room.
I look at Brody. “Must be hard.”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head then looks at me. “Collin was a good man. I promised, if anything happened, I would look after them.”
“She looks to be having a hell of a time not doing that for her kids.”
“I made a promise to a man.” He narrows his eyes.
“Yeah? I made a promise, too.”
Our eyes are deadlocked, each seeking control. I’m not about to give up and, apparently, neither is he.
Tessa walks out of her room and shuts the door behind her. “Brody, I won’t be gone long. If she needs me—”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ll call her, right? If her daughter needs her, you’ll call her.”You better say yes, man.
Tessa looks up at him, waiting for a reply. She doesn’t see what’s going on here, and I’m glad. I don’t want her to feel like she has lost more of her life than she already has.
“Of course,” he answers.
“Thirty minutes, and then back up here,” I promise as I guide her to the elevator.
Once on, she stands against the wall, exhaustion evident.
“You all right?”
“Please don’t.”
I nod and lean back against the wall.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I just can’t talk about it.”
“Understood.”