Page 158 of Well That Happened

So I slip out of Caleb’s childhood bed—where I wassupposedto be sleeping alone—and tiptoe barefoot down the hall.

The family room is faintly lit by the soft twinkle of tree lights. Warm reds and golds shimmer over every surface, casting everything in cozy magic. The pullout couch is a rumpled mess of blankets and limbs.

Grayson and Caleb are sharing the mattress—Gray on his side like he’s been posed for a sleepwear ad, one arm flung over his head, mouth slightly parted. Caleb is on his back, shirt twisted, one hand tucked behind his head like he owns the damn couch.

And Hunter?

Hunter’s on the floor like a disgruntled cat. One arm over his eyes. One knee pulled up like it might throw hands at anyone who steps too close.

I bite back a smile and creep closer.

Caleb’s eyes flutter open the second I near.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice sleep-warm and gravelly. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

“I got lonely.”

He grins and lifts the blanket. “C’mere then.”

I slide in beside him, immediately cocooned in warmth and the scent of Christmas cookies and boy. His hand slips to my waist, thumb stroking bare skin just above my pajama bottoms.

“I missed you,” I murmur.

His mouth brushes my temple. “You were gone for like an hour, tops.”

“Still counts.”

He turns, pulling me closer. His nose nuzzles my cheek. Then lower. His mouth finds mine and I melt—soft and open, completely his. The kiss deepens, lazy and hot, his tongue teasing mine until I whimper into his mouth.

His hand drifts lower, tugging at the hem of my sleep shirt.

A soft growl rumbles behind us.

“You guys suck at sneaking,” Hunter mumbles from the floor.

“Go back to sleep,” Caleb mutters against my neck.

Hunter snorts. “Not a chance in hell.”

A second later, Grayson stirs behind me, pressing a sleepy kiss to my bare shoulder. “I told you she’d come down here.”

“You also said she’d bring cookies,” Caleb says.

I grin and reach behind me to stroke Grayson’s thigh under the blanket. “Sorry. Just me.”

Grayson hums, low and pleased. “I’ll survive.”

Hunter groans. “You’re all feral.”

I lift up on an elbow and glance down at him, half-smiling. “You want to be included or just keep heckling us from the carpet like the Ghost of Christmas Grump?”

His arm drops from his face and he gets up from the floor with an exhale.

And just like that, I’m surrounded—Caleb warm and solid at my front, Grayson curled behind me, Hunter begrudgingly dragging himself closer from the floor.

This is ridiculous.

This is perfect.

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