God, I love them.
Colt tugs me toward the coffee machine. “We need about four litres of caffeine to survive today.”
“No arguments here,” I mutter, still wincing from every beam of sunlight in the room.
As we settle into the chaos of the morning after, I shoot a glance at Colt’s scratched-up back.
Let the teasing begin.
Anna’s sitting with Sia, Kira, and the rest of the Slayettes at the dining table, sipping coffee and still wearing last night’s makeup like badges of honor. The guys are all standing at the glass doors, chatting—something about jelly wrestling.
Wait, did I hear that right?
I chuckle to myself, and the girls all look over—eyes instantly zooming in on Colt’s bare chest like heat-seeking missiles. Even Mum’s gaze lingers a second too long. I roll my eyes.
Colt notices the attention and smirks, proud as hell, which only makes me want to knock him down a peg. We walk into the room, and the guys all turn, including Dad. I blink in surprise. There are way more people still here than I expected.
“Morning, Ice Queen,” Anna calls out with a grin that tells me I’m never living last night down.
My cheeks flush. Colt laughs.
“Morning, everyone,” I manage, giving Colt a quick kiss on the cheek before escaping to the kitchen, where our mothers are frying up enough bacon to cure a war zone hangover.
“Have a good night?” Johnny calls out, already smirking.
“Yeah, it was great,” Colt replies casually, strolling over to the guys like he didn’t just spend the night turning me into a puddle of goo.
I look down, mortified.
Johnny claps Colt on the back, and Colt flinches slightly.
“Ouch, man, ease up,” he grunts, rotating like he’s trying to see behind himself.
“What? Can’t handle a slap now, princess?” Johnny quips, then eyes Colt’s back and breaks into hysterics.
I groan, ducking behind the counter as the laughter builds.
“What the hell are you laughing at, dick?” Colt snaps as Hux and Dingo step forward to get a look. Their laughter joins in.
Colt tries to reach around to check his back, sliding his hands up his shoulder blades.
“So…” Dingo drawls. “Not only did she give you frostbite last night, but Dee turned into a tiger, too?”
“What are you on about?” Colt asks, still clearly confused.
“Oh, come on,” Hux scoffs. “You totally came down shirtless, so we’d see the claw marks. Don’t pretend you didn’t know they were there, you goddamn showoff.”
I snort, nearly spilling the coffee I’m pouring, as the girls all shift in their seats to get a better view.
“Are you guys still drunk off your tits?” Colt asks, spinning slightly, eyebrows quirked.
“Babe,” I call sweetly. “There may be some nail marks on your back,” I rush out the last part, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
He turns to me, eyes narrowing. “Seriously, Dee? You let me parade down here shirtless like a walking sex injury?”
I giggle and shrug. “Maybe.”
He groans.
