I grinned wider. “Seriously. All we need now is a conveniently timed blizzard and someone to shout‘there’s only one bed!’”
That did it.
She let out a startled laugh—real, this time. It punched through the tension in the room like sunlight through storm clouds.
Bright and loud andalive.
It lit her from the inside out and brightened herglow. Litmeup too, like every cell in my body remembered how to breathe.
For one perfect second, the fevered ache of wanting her wasn’t unbearable.
It was justwantand it was beautiful. Wren’s laughter was like getting punched in the chest and kissed on the mouth at the same time.
God, it was arelief.
A pure, gut-deep, holy shit we didn’t lose her kind of relief. That sound soaked straight into my bloodstream, carved through the tension, and reminded me she was stillherunder all of this. Still the Wren who outmaneuvered media sharks with one hand and kept three overclocked alpha athletes in check with the other.
Even if her legs were shaking.
She eased herself onto the couch, spine curved, shoulders trembling with the aftermath of whatever strength it had cost her to stay upright this long. But she didn’t collapse.
She didn’t break.
And that meant I could keep my goddamn feet planted where they were instead of crossing the room to touch her the way every instinct inside me screamed to.
Her smile lingered, faint and almost wry, her eyes glassy but glowing like melted gold as she looked between the three of us.
“There’s only one actual bed,” she said, too solemn for the words to be anything but a tease. “I think the sofa folds out into another. And I can always make a pallet on the floor somewhere.”
Isnortedbefore I could stop myself. “Yeah, okay. Good luck with that. You thinkanyof us are gonna let you sleep on the floor?”
Jay let out a soft huff of agreement behind me, and Roan didn’t say anything, but his jaw tensed in that way that saidabsolutely not happening.
But since Wren seemed in the mood to play—and dear god, let her stay in that mood—I cocked my head and offered, “Okay, but what about the blizzard? Any bad weather in the forecast? Because I gotta say, I’m committed to the fanfic plot line now.”
She licked her lips absently and lifted one shoulder in the smallest shrug. Even that simple movement—hair falling across her cheek, the shimmer of her skin, the curve of her collarbone—waseroticas hell. Like she was built to utterly undo me with nothing but the tilt of her head.
“I have no idea,” she murmured, voice soft and rough and full of suggestion. “Should we check?”
That was all I needed—hell, I was about to start pulling up weather apps on my phone when?—
“Only if we get to bet on what the weather says,” Roan said, deadpan.
Andthatmade me freeze.
Jay, too.
Even Wren blinked, lips parting as she turned those luminous, heat-drenched eyes on him.
A long pause.
Her voice was low. Curious. “What are we betting for?”
Roan didn’t answer immediately.
But his gaze stayed locked on her like a tether—like if he looked away, the whole room would fall apart again. I had a sudden feeling whatever he said next… was going to matter.
“Are you open to negotiation?” Roan asked, voice quiet but unshakably firm.
