Page 51 of Stuck with my Brother's Firefighter Besties

The three of them lingered around me, their movements easy and natural, but I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying every moment from last night.

Every look, every touch, every kiss. I’d expected this morning to feel awkward, but the atmosphere was strangely…peaceful.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Colt grinned. “Well, I thought we could start with breakfast. And then maybe we’ll play some cards? Unless you’d rather pick up where we left off…”

Jaxon snorted, shaking his head at his younger friend. “Ignore him,” he said, shooting me a playful smirk. “We’ll behave. Mostly.”

Ryan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “The storm will let up eventually. Until then, we just take it easy.”

I nodded, but my thoughts were anything but easy. Last night had been…incredible, but it also left me with more questions than answers.

What did this mean for me? For them? And most importantly, could this ever work?

As we all settled into the morning rhythm—Colt flipping pancakes, Jaxon teasing him about his cooking skills, and Ryan grumbling about the mess—it became clear that something had shifted between us.

The tension from before had dissolved, replaced by a strange but undeniable connection.

I didn’t know what the day would bring, but for now, I let myself relax, enjoying the warmth of the cabin and the presence of these three men who, against all odds, were starting to feel like home.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Ryan

The knock came after noon.

Sharp. Loud.

Shit.

It was Nate.

I froze. The others did too. Lila’s face paled, panic flashing in her eyes.

Colt glanced at me. Jaxon muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

The storm raged outside, wind howling against the cabin, but it was nothing compared to the tension that just slammed into the room.

I stood first. Someone had to.

“Ryan?” Lila whispered, her voice tight.

“It’s fine,” I said, even though I wasn’t too sure. “Stay here.”

The air was thick as I crossed to the door. My chest felt heavy, guilt pressing hard as I slid open the door.

He was soaked as he stepped inside.

“Hey,” he declared. “Storm’s bad. Thought I’d check on Lila.”

I moved aside, letting him in.

“She’s fine.”

My voice sounded stiff, even to me.

Nate stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his boots leaving water on the wooden floor. He shook his wet hair out of his face, his eyes scanning the room, sharp and calculating.

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