Page 205 of Well That Happened

“Are downstairs making breakfast,” Hunter says, but he’s already moving closer, his voice dropping.

“This is a terrible idea,” I breathe, even as I arch into Caleb’s touch.

“The worst,” Grayson agrees, pulling me back against his chest. “Absolutely inappropriate.”

But his hands are already in my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me properly. Deep and slow and thorough, like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Fuck,” Hunter mutters, watching us with dark eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”

Caleb grins against my shoulder. “Get in line, Captain. We’ve got a system, remember?”

“We do not have a system—” I try to say, but Grayson swallows the words with another kiss.

“Sure we do,” Caleb continues cheerfully. “It’s called ‘everyone worship Rilee until she forgets how to speak.’”

“That’s not—oh,” I gasp as Hunter’s mouth finds my throat.

“See?” Caleb sounds entirely too pleased with himself. “System’s working already.”

“You talk too much,” Hunter growls, but there’s affection in it.

“You don’t talk enough,” Caleb counters. “Rilee likes the praise. Don’t you, beautiful?”

I’m too focused on the three sets of hands mapping my skin to form actual words.

“She’s perfect,” Grayson murmurs, pressing kisses along my jaw. “Look how she responds to us.”

“Like she was made for this,” Hunter agrees, voice rough. “Made for us.”

“Guys,” I manage, overwhelmed by their attention, their words, the sheer impossibility of fitting four people in this bed.

“Shh,” Caleb soothes, fingers tangling with mine. “Let us take care of you. You’ve been so good all weekend. So patient with the questions, the looks…”

“So brave,” Grayson adds quietly.

“So ours,” Hunter finishes, and something about the possessive pride in his voice makes me shiver.

A knock at the door has us all freezing.

“Breakfast in twenty!” Mrs. Maddox calls through the door. “And Hunter? Your grandmother says to tell you the walls in this house are surprisingly thin.”

Absolute silence.

Then, mortification. “Noted, Mom.”

Her footsteps retreat.

I bury my face in the nearest chest—Grayson’s, I think—and let out a muffled groan.

“I’m never leaving this bed,” I announce. “I live here now. Tell my parents I died of embarrassment.”

“Technically, we’re the ones who should be embarrassed,” Caleb points out. “It’s Hunter’s family.”

“I’m moving to Alaska,” Hunter says flatly. “Alone. Forever.”

“Can we finish what we started first?” Grayson asks mildly.

We all look at him.

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