Our entire relationship thus far had been a series of unbelievable events: the plane, the club, the beach, these fucking cookies. Maybe it was the universe trying to ward us off one another, but instead of heeding that advice, I just started to laugh.

A maniacal, uninhibited, holding-my-gut laugh.

“Is something funny about this, Ophelia?” Frankie attempted not to smirk. “You almost burned my house down.”

I laughed harder, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

“You keep this up, you won’t make it back to Colorado in one piece.” He finally chuckled and kicked the dish towel at his feet across the floor. “Who was in charge of the timer?”

“Natalia has it on her phone,” I said. “Where did they go?”

We made our way down the hallway toward the bedrooms where the hum of music seeped through the walls.

“I don’t hear a summoning.” Frankie shrugged.

I glanced at him hesitantly. “Maybe they fell asleep.”

“Playing throwback jams?”

“It’s like…nineties ASMR.”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “Come on, the cookies are already burnt anyway. We don’t need them.”

A pesky intrusive thought hammered me in the head. “What if they’re dead?” I asked. “What if they’re dead and we’re standing out here making jokes about them?”

“Ophelia, that’s fucking insane.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. He was much more rational and I needed someone to talk me down off the anxiety ledge. “There’s no way.”

We didn’t make it three steps in the direction of the living room before Frankie groaned and turned back around, mumbling under his breath. His fists connected with the bedroom door. “Cap, you good?”

After a few seconds without an answer, I joined him in knocking. “Nat! The cookies burned!”

The longer we stood there waiting for a reply the greater the pit of despair opened in my stomach. My worried expression must have gotten to Frankie because a second later he announced his entering and shouldered his way through the door.

Our collective jaws dropped like the fucking ball on New Year’s Eve.

Across the room Natalia’s phone buzzed incessantly in her tangled shorts on the floor, completely drowned out by the sound of music playing from a speaker on the dresser. All the lights were dimmed, save for some red and green mood setters that illuminated the walls behind the bed. Mateo’s impressive desktop setup was on and streaming, tiny icons hopping up and down where a video window was open. At the foot of the king-sized mattress sat a tripod with a giant circular light pointed down at the bed.

It was what was happeningonthe bed that left Frankie and I speechless.

“Oh, shit.” Mateo looked up and caught us standing in the door, shocked we’d actually pushed our way inside.

Nat was on all fours in front of him, that skin tight Mrs. Claus corset unbuttoned and her fishnet stockings ripped open as she offered her ass to her boyfriend who was dressed as the fat man himself. Red jacket, red pants, a fluffy white beard fastened around his head with elastic.

“What the fuck are you doing, Mateo?” Frankie spoke first. His voice roused Nat, who until that moment was none the wiser, still performing for the jumping icons on the computer screen. “Jesus.” He smacked his palm over his eyes and turned back toward the open door.

She screamed, flinging her body off the bed and shielding herself. “Phee! Oh my god!”

“Fuck, guys.” Mateo hurriedly tucked himself into his pants, clambering over to the camera to end whatever sexy live stream they were hosting.

A wave of shock washed over me, and when I thought it would subside, I took another look around the room and got hit with it again. “Lady Marmalade” unironically sifted through the speaker in otherwise silence like a sick joke.

“It’s notexactlywhat it looks like!” Nat crooned.

I couldn’t have cared less if my best friend was having sex on camera. I just needed more than thirty seconds of adjustment. We almost lit the house on fire and then I watched Natalia’s boyfriend mount her like a reindeer for an audience. Another one of those what-the-fuck waves crashed into me again.

“Nobody’s judging,” Frankie assured her, pointing to his roommate. “But, why the fuck are you dressed like that?”