“Thanks. The three of us split the rent, and it beats dealing with campus housing.” Knox leads me into a spacious kitchen with granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. “Plus, we can cook actual food instead of surviving on cafeteria mystery meat.”
Textbooks and notebooks are already spread out on the large dining table next to the kitchen, along with a laptop and what looks like several nutrition charts.
“This looks very organized,” I say, setting my bag down and pulling out my own laptop.
“Knox is obsessed with being prepared,” Jagger says, as he wanders into the kitchen behind us and opens the refrigerator to grab a water bottle. “Though I have to warn you, Leila, this kitchen sees a lot of... interesting activities.”
Knox shoots him a warning look. “Jagger.”
“What? I’m just saying, we’re very active guys. We can work up an appetite.” Jagger’s grin turns wicked. “Sometimes we get hungry at the same time. Sometimes we share, or sometimes we walk in on others feasting.”
“Share . . . food?”
“Among other things,” Jagger says with a wink.
“Jesus Christ,” Knox mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Will you please go find something else to do? Preferably something that involves leaving us alone?”
“Actually...” Riven’s voice comes from the doorway, and I look up to find him now wearing a fitted black T-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide his muscles. “I need to grab my stats textbook. I left it in here earlier.”
He moves past us to retrieve a book from the counter, but instead of leaving, he leans against it, his arms crossed. Heat creeps up my neck as I remind myself to look at his face and notat his cock print in his sweats. I swear, men do this on purpose—gray sweats are like crack.
“Don’t mind me,” he says. “Pretend I’m not here.”
That’s impossible, and he knows it.
Jagger perks up immediately, abandoning any pretense of leaving. He pulls out the chair next to me and spins it around, straddling it backward. “So, Leila. We know you’re into hockey, but what about hockey players?”
“Knox and I are supposed to be working on a project,” I say, trying to ignore the way my heart rate has picked up with all three of them suddenly in the room.
“I am working... on my charm.” He leans closer. “What do you think?”
Knox’s jaw tightens. “Jagger, I swear to god.”
“What? I’m just being friendly.” Jagger’s grin widens. “You don’t mind that I’m being friendly, do you, Leila?”
I feel Riven’s gaze on me. “I mind when it interferes with my grade,” I manage, forcing myself to look at my laptop screen instead of at any of them.
“Your grade will be fine,” Knox says. “Because we’re going to work on the project. Alone.”
“Possessive,” Jagger whispers to Riven. “I like it.”
“Out,” Knox orders, standing up to his full height. “Both of you. Now.”
Riven pushes off the counter with a small smile. “Come on. Let’s give them some privacy.”
“But I was getting comfortable,” Jagger whines.
“Now.”
Jagger stands, but not before leaning down near my ear. “See you around, Kane.”
Then they’re gone, and I’m left sitting across from Knox, whose knuckles are white from where he’s gripping the edge of the table.
“Sorry,” he mutters, sitting back down. “They’re . . .”
“Intense?” I offer.
“That’s one word for it. Now let’s focus on the project.”
