Page 95 of Hush, Little Baby

“Then that’s what happens. We can do everything you want that day. Start thinking about it, okay?”

I nod, and he squeezes my knee through the towel, and we just sit there for a minute while I try to think about what a good birthday would even look like. The sliding door opens behind us, and I hear the soft click of Elise’s shoes on the patio stone.

“Lunch is served, Mr. Makris. And Charlie.”

I turn, and there she is, holding a tray with two plates on it, each one with a burger that’s bigger than my face. There’s a little ramekin of fries on each side, and a small salad I know I won’t eat, and two glasses of something iced and pink. She sets the tray on the low table beside our lounger and gives a small nod to Nikolaus, who doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you,” I say, earning a smile from her. “It looks delicious.”

“I hope it is! I’ll be in the kitchen if you’d like anything else.” Beaming, she turns and disappears back inside, sliding the door shut behind her.

“Wow,” I breathe, turning my attention back to the meal in front of me. The burger is stacked with bacon, cheese, tomato, and lettuce, and the bun is soft and glazed with butter. My stomach growls so loudly that Niko laughs.

“Go ahead, baby.”

I pick up the burger with both hands, feeling the warmth seep into my palms. The first bite is almost embarrassingly good—juicy, savory, with a hint of sweetness from the sauce. I close my eyes for a second, chewing slowly, letting myself just enjoy it.

“Good?” Niko asks, already knowing the answer.

“Amazing,” I mumble around my mouthful. I take another bite, then another, barely coming up for air.

Niko watches me with that expression again—the one that makes me feel like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He hasn’t touched his food yet, just sits there with his legs stretched out, one arm behind my back.

“You should eat too,” I say, gesturing to his plate with my burger.

“In a minute.”

I’m halfway through demolishing the burger when Niko’s phone starts to vibrate on the side table. He glances at the screen, frowns, and wipes his hands on the towel before he picks up.

“Excuse me, baby,” he says, his voice soft but a little exasperated. “Yes, Constantine.” He stands, turning his back so he can pace without dripping pool water on the phone. I watch him as he murmurs into the receiver. His Greek gets thicker when he’s annoyed; I can’t understand a word, but the tone is clear as glass.

I use the distraction to eat more, licking sauce from my fingers and soaking in the sun. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but there’s not much else to do. He’s talking about numbers, meetings, something with a deadline. I hear my own name once, like a pebble in a stream—just for a moment, then gone.

After a few minutes, Niko ends the call. He stands for a second, staring out over the glass edge of the balcony, before sitting down again next to me. He sighs, then kisses my temple, the way you’d kiss a sleeping pet. I set my burger down.

“Work stuff?” I ask, even though it’s obvious.

He nods. “Constantine needs me on a call in twenty. I’ll have to go inside for a bit.”

“That’s okay.” I stretch out on the lounger, feeling lazy and full, and watch as he drains his glass of pink lemonade in a few long gulps. “You should try to eat before, though.”

He snorts, but with fondness, and picks up his own burger, demolishing it with a few efficient bites. Watching him, I’m reminded that even when he’s soft with me—stroking my hair, peeling clementines, reading me stories—he still has these sharp, wolfish edges. He’s powerful. He’s used to winning and getting what he wants. Sometimes I look at his arms and shoulders, and I remember, violently, that I am only here because he decided to come and take me.

It’s not a scary realization, not today. Just a fact—like the pool water, like the patio stone, like the way the sun will burn my skin if I’m not careful.

Being Charlie is sometimes a little like passenger-ing in my own body. It’s not so bad if the ride is nice.

I alternate fries and sips of my drink, and when I can’t eat another bite, I flop back on the lounger and sigh.

My eyelids feel heavy and decadent. With the pool water still drying on my skin, with food warm in my belly, time ceases to exist until Niko has to go inside to work like a normal adult, not one who could play mermaids all day if he had the choice.

19

Nikolaus

I wake to the raw, ragged sound of Charlie’s sobs, the kind that aren’t gentle whimpers or the soft, muffled gasps he makes when nightmares linger at the edges of sleep. This is crying—full-throated, heart-wrenching crying—and it jerks me from slumber so quickly that I’m sitting upright before I’m fully conscious. My heart hammers against my sternum, every protective instinct in my body flaring to life.

“Charlie?” I whisper, voice hoarse in the darkness.