Something jabs into my hip, and I yelp, my protective barrier falling away to see Tristen with his fingers wrapped around the wrists of a man wearing nothing but his briefs. Grey ones.
That make it looks like he’s still … turned on.
Vaulting over the arm of the couch, I land on carpet with a gasp at the impact and scramble to my feet.
“Smell ’em, bro.” The man in his underwear pushes harder against Tristen’s hold, a grin splitting his face. “Promise there’s no lube left.”
He responds by yanking the guy closer and hooking a leg that knocks him off balance. The two crash to the floor with Tristen on top and his grip twisting until the other’s hand is forcibly inching towards his own mouth.
“Eat your words, Hatley.”
He grunts—a sound I’m too familiar with—and opens his mouth.
Yanking my gaze away, I land right on a new set of chocolate eyes beneath a crooked brow.
“Pretty sure they’re always like this,” the second intruder mutters and I swallow hard.
Because not only is it in fact a second guy, he’s small. His hairline is shining with a layer of sweat and his dark hair is going in every direction. Wearing nothing but a tee that’s two sizes too big.
And socks.
I just heard these two fucking. Oh. My. God.
A whole new wave of embarrassment has my face on fire.
“I-I’m sorry.”
He snorts. “Pretty sureI’mthe one that should be sorry.”
“Hatley, Emmett—” My gaze flips to the floor in time to catch Tristen’s furrowing at my empty spot on the couch, only to smooth over when he finds me. “Emmett, Hatley.” He nods to the person still trapped beneath him, and I offer a tight nod.
“And I’m Lemon.”
The final unnamed intruder offers a hand that I shake my head at.
“That’s a weird name.”
He snickers and drops his offered shake. “I’m a weird guy.”
“Yeah, you are, babs!” Hatley is a blur of motion as he snags Lemon around the waist and lifts, pulling a squeal from the smaller man as he marches them into the kitchen. “Hydrate. I’m not done with you.”
My cheeks blaze.
“You better fucking be!” Tristen calls from the couch, his ass planted right back where it was before his friend barged in. “I don’t wanna hear another peep, or you’re on dish duty for two weeks.”
Hatley laughs a loud and boisterous sound that makes me jump only a moment before Lemon joins in with another squealing that pierces my ears.
It’s enough to push me away from the kitchen entrance towards my former seat where I curl tight enough to hug my knees and bury my head inside the hoodie.
Covered in darkness, where no one can see me, I breathe deep.
This is what I want my funeral to smell like.
Chapter 12
Tristen
“I’m taking Lemon tothe track.”
