“And Mrs. Delaney’s reporting,” Wyatt adds.
“God, did you see her latest post? She wrote a whole fanfiction story about us. There were metaphors about stallions and everything.”
“I’m trying to block it from my memory,” Jesse says.
“She gave us a ship name,” Boone announces. “CallBoys.”
“That’s terrible,” I say.
“That’s genius,” Jesse counters.
“That’s definitely going to stick,” Wyatt sighs.
Rita bleats her approval, then knocks the syrup bottle over with her nose, watching with satisfaction as it pools on the table.
We’re standing there, the four of us and one goat, in a destroyed kitchen that smells like burnt bacon and syrup, and I suddenly feel the weight of how ridiculous this all is. Here I am, supposedly the town scandal, hanging out with three brothers while my goat holds their table hostage. It’s so far from what my life was supposed to be I can’t help but laugh.
“What?” Boone asks.
“This. All of this. It’s insane.”
“Good insane or bad insane?”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Well, let us know when you figure it out,” Wyatt says, and there’s something in his voice that makes me look at him. He’s watching me with intense eyes, and for a moment, I forget we’re supposed to be keeping this casual.
“I should probably—” I start to say.
“Stay,” Jesse interrupts. “You should definitely stay.”
“I have work later. Don’t you guys have to work, too?”
“Later isn’t now,” Boone points out.
“My dad will notice I’m gone.”
“Your dad’s probably still ranting to his newspaper clippings,” Wyatt says.
They’re all looking at me with expressions that make my skin heat up, and suddenly the destroyed kitchen doesn’t matter. Rita could set the place on fire and I wouldn’t care because Jesse’s stepping closer, Boone’s hand is on my lower back, and Wyatt’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.
“Okay,” I breathe. “But if Rita eats anything important, I’m not taking responsibility.”
Jesse’s mouthcrashes into mine before the words fully leave my lips, his kiss all hunger and demand. His tongue does this thing that makes my brain shut down entirely, and I grab his shoulders partly just to touch him and partly because I need something to hold onto for balance.
“Bedroom,” Wyatt says, his voice commanding in that way that makes my stomach flip. “Now.”
“Bossy,” I gasp when Jesse lets me breathe.
“You love it,” Boone says, already pulling me toward the hallway.
“I tolerate it.”
“Liar,” Jesse grins, his hands already working on my shorts.
We barely make it to the bedroom door before clothes start disappearing. My tank top goes first, Jesse pulling, tossing it out of sight. Boone’s working on my shorts while walking backward, which should be awkward but somehow isn’t.
“Eager, aren’t we?” I tease, but my voice comes out breathier than intended. Wyatt’s pressed against my back, his mouth on my neck doing things that feel incredible.
