Page 63 of Drop Three

Honestly, if any woman ever complained about the predicament I’ve found myself in with these fine as hell men, I’ll show her the exit door myself.

Not only are they drop-dead gorgeous, successful, and athletic, they’re the best group of guys I’ve ever known. They love their people something fierce and it’s a shock they’re all single.

It’s weird to think about, given I’m also single.

I’ve never been interested in them romantically. I was most definitely in a haze of stupidity after wasting all my years with Luke, while these three became my closest friends in the meantime.

The thought of something more has never even crossed my mind.

Except for the missing one, I should say.

Speaking of…where is he?I’m not asking, though.

“Har har. So what’s everyone up to today?” I ask as I grab an everything bagel to pop into the toaster.

They perch themselves against the kitchen island and sip their coffees. Well, King is drinking his precious and perfectly steamed chamomile tea.

Boujee man.

Mack joins the conversation. “Not a lot, and thank fuck for that. We haven’t had a free Saturday in ages.”

I know that’s true. Although their jobs are genuinely something they love, the lifestyle is demanding and requires a lot of their time and attention.

There are pros and cons to every job, I suppose.

“Dude, for real. I want to veg out on the couch and do nothing all day,” Gus chimes in.

“I’m still hungover from last night,” King replies.

“Fuck, dude. Me too. I lost count after five of how many tequila shots I threw back,” says Gus.

“You two are idiots.” Mack doesn’t drink much, so they likely made him the designated driver. Although, now that I think about it, I’ve seen Bodhi order a drink plenty of times butnever actually drink it.

How am I now realizing this?

He always remains composed, and I’ve never witnessed him intoxicated. I think I’ve always thought he’s protective and likes to make sure everyone around him is safe—that’s who Bodhi is.

It could also be because I don’t hesitate to unwind and have fun. I should pay closer attention, I’m that seeing now.

“I have a better idea,” I say as I walk to the fridge, my thoughts set on my morning coffee.

“Speak, woman,” Gus demands.

“Wait a second.” I turn toward Kingston. “You are so sweet for making my coffee every morning. I can’t even remember the last time I had to make it myself. You even use my fun cups with designs to match my socks.”

I have an obsession with weird and funny socks.

I never let them show publicly, though. My outfit will always look killer, but my socks scream weirdo—I love it. They remain hidden under my boots and make me feel like I have a secret that no one knows about.

It may seem silly, but it’s my thing.

“That ain’t me, Navy girl.”

I look at Gus and Mack, searching for any signs of it being them, and come up empty. Then who is it?

It can’t be…Bodhi…right?

Surely, Bodhi doesn’t know how I drink my coffee. I don’t remember telling him or being with him when I ordered one.

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