"Hm," Foreman answered, as neutrally as possible while still being supportive. He had a feeling that Amber was allowed to not want be home, but if he said the same thing, then Amber would want to know what the hell was wrong with her family, that he didn't want to spend time with him, that he'd just met them and already wanted to run away. He wished he knew more of what Amber was thinking. She'd worked hard to organize this trip, and she'd acted alternately fiery and nostalgic, or else bitterly dismissive about the entire thing. Foreman supposed the way Geoffrey acted, like Amber's life didn't count for as much as his, was a big part of it, but if that was the case then Amber would be more keen on avoiding her brother, and still enjoy seeing the rest of her family. Maybe she really felt like Geoffrey had won a prize that should have been hers...but Foreman couldn't suggest that, either, because Amber would never admit to have lost any race, especially one so important.

Foreman got out of the way when Amber sat up to rearrange the bedcovers. Okay, so not going down again. That amounted to admitting that they'd just fucked in Amber's parents' house. And that they couldn't scramble away from dinner fast enough, like they were still in that stage where they were desperately horny for each other. Which, Foreman thought with a grin, they had been tonight. Even if they were more even-handed the rest of the time, they still matched each other in bed, whatever the circumstances. Foreman held back a sigh when Amber continued; the way she phrased it, it sounded like he'd be the bad guy if he even so much as set foot outside the bedroom to take a piss. Well, that wasn't urgent, although no matter what Amber thought, he was going to find a moment to brush his teeth before he fell asleep. Foreman climbed in under the covers, and wrapped a strong arm around Amber's stomach, holding her pressed against him. "No," he said. "I'm fine here."