Page 168 of Well That Happened

“I’m cold,” I murmur, inching closer until my thigh brushes his.

He still doesn’t look at me. “You’re under three blankets.”

“Emotionally,” I whisper, tugging the hem of Grayson’s shirt a little higher up my leg. “I’m emotionally cold.”

Grayson makes a choked sound from the armchair. “You are theworst.”

“Caleb?” I call.

A head pops in from the kitchen. “What’s up, babe?”

“Nothing. Just checking if I’m still irresistible.”

He grins. “Top-tier thirst trap. Proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

Hunter exhales slowly. His fingers twitch where they’re resting—well, now slightly gripping—the couch cushion.

“Do you need help?” I ask innocently. “You look… tense. Again.”

His voice is low. Rough. “Rilee.”

“Yes?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“Do I?” I blink up at him. “Because I thought this was just a snuggle.”

He finally turns to look at me—andthatlook. That dark, warning flicker in his eyes like he’s barely holding himself together.

I sigh, dramatically.

“Okay. That’s fine,” I say, lifting myself just enough to look Hunter dead in the eye. “I packed Mr. Purple anyway. I’ll just go get him.”

Grayson almost drops his tea. “Youwhat?”

Caleb, from the kitchen, yells, “ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY NOT.”

Even Hunter tenses under me. “Who the hell is Mr. Purple?”

I blink, all innocence. “My vibrator.”

A beat of silence.

Then three voices—nearly in unison:

“No.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

I smirk. “You said no touching. I’m just following the rules.”

Hunter’s jaw flexes.

“Fuck it,” he mutters.

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