The front door slams. Panic surges, sharp and sudden. My body freezes caught and exposed, the thrill twisting with fear—like sneaking around after midnight mass to sketch in my room, when I thought no one could see me.
“Yo, Trey!” someone shouts. “You alive?”
Trey tenses above me. His voice is low. “Fuck me…they’re early.”
I blink against the soft light filtering through the windows, confusion giving way to quiet amusement. “The band?”
He sighs, the sound rumbling against my cheek. “Yeah. Welcome to the madhouse, baby.”
“Afternoon, lovebirds! Or should I say, snakes, for bailing like that.” Sam’s voice cuts through the quiet, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots. Trey groans above me, dropping his head to mine.
“Don’t move,” he mutters. “If we stay perfectly still, they might go away.”
“That’s not how it works,” I whisper back.
“Baker, if your cock is out, you better put it away real quick. Oh, holy shit! Were you two actually fucking—”
I glance up just as Chace rounds the doorway, a paper bag of takeout dangling from one hand. He stops next to Sam, eyes wide, eyebrows practically touching his hairline. Even Logan, pauses long enough to take in the scene.
Trey, above me, pinning me to the sofa with his body.
His hair’s a mess. His voice is a low growl when he finally acknowledges them.
“Does nobody knock anymore?”
Sam leans against the doorframe, grinning like a cat who’s found the cream.
“Knock-knock.” Sam beams.
“Besides… I thought you guys were ‘married,’ not…you know…married. Like, you were just her beard. Looks like we got here before you…well…wore her like one.” Chace snorts, tossing the bag onto the counter. “You look ravishing, Seraphina. I hope Trey has been treating you well?”
Logan smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting. “It sure does look like it.”
Trey groans and drops his head back against mine. I try to sit up, cheeks burning, but he doesn’t let me—his hand on my hip holding me firmly in place, as if to say,don’t move, let them look. Which somehow makes it worse…and better.
Sam eases down into a nearby chair, still grinning.
“Relax, Romeo. Just happy to see you both alive. No kidnapping or shootings till next year, yeah?” Logan snorts, shaking his head. Trey finally cracks a smile, dragging his gaze to me.
“We should probably move.”
“No, no, stay there, this isn’t awkward at all.” Chace quips.
The laughter’s still bouncing around the room when the door kicks open again.
“Move your asses, you’re blocking the way,” comes Mac’s voice, carrying that no-nonsense edge that makes everyone obey without question.
Chace steps aside just as she appears, a box balanced carefully in her hands. Her blonde hair tied up in a messy knot, sunglasses perched on her head, and there’s this faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips the second she spots us on the sofa.
“Well,” she says lightly, gaze sweeping over me and Trey. Tangled, rumpled, still very much wrapped around each other. “You two look cozy.”
Trey shifts above me, his hand still resting on my hip, but Mac’s not fazed. Not even a flicker of surprise. Just that soft, affectionate smirk like she’s seen this coming a mile off.
“Looks like the Baker’s are making a go of it. Hot.” Mac beams. “By the way, I brought you a wedding cake.” She crosses the room and sets the box down on the coffee table in front of us. “Red velvet. Trey’s favorite. Figured you might as well have one, since someone decided to skip the reception part.”
Trey looks up at Mac with that half-grin that always gives away his softer side.
“You didn’t have to do that, Mac.”
