There’s a beast in me that’s pushing against my skin from the inside, clawing its way out. I don’t want to be a child anymore. “We aren’t kids, though.” His gaze sinks lower, and I don’t miss the way it pauses at my mouth. “We haven’t been kids for a long time.” The effect of his rumbling words is not unlike taking a muscle relaxant. “And your parents like hosting, I know. They love being parents, love taking care of all of us. But it’s time we all stepped up.”
