“Wicker,” Lex whispers. “Shut up.” Since Wicker is wound around me like a vine, his voice is louder, my ear pressed to his sternum. “I didn’t say anything.” He sounds confused. “I can hear you thinking.” Lex sighs. “It’s like nails on a chalkboard.” Against my other side, Pace mutters, “Seriously. You’d think someone who just got spectacularly laid would go to sleep.”
