The Twins & Me: Summer Vacation

Tonight

We crash on the deck furniture for the night; after the Uber home we realized that Bastian has the house key and we don't want to wake Cherry or Felix to let us in. The three of us are spent, emotionally and physically, so we push two deck couches together to make a sort of bed.

It's the first time since we came here that the three of us get to sleep together and I'll take it. I sandwich myself between them, using Ollie's arm as a pillow, facing Arlo. The chill of the night air causes us to huddle together under a few beach towels.

Ollie pulls me against him, his free arm draped over me. "I love you," he whispers, voice heavy with sleep.

I intertwine my fingers with his. "I love you."

"You know you're our good girl, right?"

I laugh softly, give his hand a squeeze. "Yes."

Arlo's eyes meet mine in the dark. He reaches out to stroke my cheek. "Thank you for tonight, Wren."

"Anytime."

Ollie grunts.

"Kidding." But I wink.

Soon the boys drift off, their breathing in sync and even. I want to sleep, too, but when I close my eyes I can only picture Bastian's face when I hit him. That crazed smile plastered over his face. The look in his eyes. That look I've never seen before. Some sort of pain or frustration. Maybe even disbelief.

Too bad he couldn't hide it well enough.

★

When I open my eyes, it's not quite dawn. It's that weird in-between when the sky is blue and everything has a weird tint, like the air itself has to adjust to a new day. The twins are still asleep on either side of me. I sit up slowly, skin rising with goosebumps in the chill of the morning.

Movement out of the corner of my eye, and I jump when I notice Bastian sitting in one of the deck chairs, only a few yards away.

He's in his clothes from the night before, hair windswept and wild, head resting on the armrest of the chair, eyes closed. His face is soft in sleep, almost handsome. Then, as if he can feel me watching, his eyes blink slowly open, out of focus. But they rest on me and sharpen. "You slap like a toddler."

"Let me know when you want to try again," I retort, pulling my hair up into a bun.

He just stares with those grey eyes.

"What're you doing out here?" I ask, massaging the back of my neck. My whole body is stiff from the hard furniture.

He lifts his head and leans back into the chair. "Locked out."

"Liar."

He's silent.

"That was a really fucked up thing you did," I say, somewhat quieter. I find myself reaching out to tuck a stray piece of Arlo's curly hair behind his ear. He mumbles something in his sleep.

"Paxton was a bad choice," he admits. "I should've gotten someone more subtle."

"It doesn't matter who it was. It's on you."

He doesn't have an immediate response to that. "I wanted to see what you would do," he finally says.

My jaw clenches. "Now you know. Arlo's mine just as much as Ollie is."

A small smirk in the corner of his mouth. "That's a little selfish of you, don't you think?"

I have to laugh. "Now you've got me all figured out."

He leans forward, elbow on his knees, peering at me intently. "I thought I did, when it was just Oliver you were fucking. But the other one changes everything."