Zain POV
When I pull up outside Crumbl and walk in to grab a box, I hear cheering from the back seat like I just won the World Cup.
Ten minutes later, they’re quiet. Cookie crumbs cover Liam’s shirt. Scarlet’s got chocolate on her cheek. And for once, the world isn’t spinning in a fiery mess.
It’s just them. Loud, chaotic, ridiculous, and mine.
When I get home I sigh looking at the door.
It’s like herding toddlers. Drunk, clingy, six-foot toddlers.
I somehow manage to unlock the front door while half-dragging Liam, who is muttering under his breath about betrayal and frosting. Scarlet, of course, is trailing behind like an uncoordinated duckling. She keeps stopping to fix her sock. The same sock. Five times.
“Come on,” I groan, shoving the door open wider. “You two are a bloody circ
