Beau.
One of his hands is threaded through my hair, fingers tangled like he fell asleep that way and never let go. Lawson is behind me, spooned close enough that there’s no mistaking it—his thigh hooked over mine, his breath warm against the back of my neck. My body is deliciously sore. Every small movement feels slower. Heavier. But not in a bad way. In a way that reminds me that they were there.
My brain begins to catalog, and it hits me how different it feels to do that now as opposed to when I came here.
There’s beard burn along my neck and jaw. A dull, tender soreness between my legs that makes my toes curl when I shift even a fraction of an inch.
Physically, I feel both wrecked and put back together again.
But emotionally?
That’s harder to categorize.
I feel almost… overwhelmed. But not in the way that makes me want to retreat into myself. It’s in the way that makes me want to bask in it. To soak up every emotion and feeling coursing through me, because I haven’t felt like this in, well, ever.
I’m just starting to stretch—carefully—when I hear it.
A sound that doesnotbelong to someone in this bed.
I crack one eye open and nearly scream at the sight of someone staring at me.
Then I realize it’s just Jasper.
He’s standing at the foot of the bed, mug of coffee in hand, wearing a snug black T-shirt and black sweats like he literally just rolled out of my dreams. His hair is pushed back like he dragged his fingers through it one too many times, and his expression is—
Oh.
That shit-eating, devilish grin.
I jerk instinctively, which causes a chain reaction.
Beau jolts awake with a confused grunt, and Lawson groans like the world has inconvenienced him by being awake.
“What thefu—”Beau starts, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it at Jasper’s head before rolling over and burying his face into the mattress.
Jasper dodges it with ease, because of course he does. “Well, well, well,” he drawls, taking another sip of his coffee. “Looks like Linc and I missed all the fun.”
Lawson flops back dramatically and shoves his pillow over his face. “Honey,” he mumbles, “make him go away.”
“Nah,” I say as I look Jas up and down before winking at him. “I don’t think I will.”
Jasper’s grin widens. Setting his mug down on Lawson’s dresser like he owns the place, he, despite both men groaning louder, crawls up the foot of the bed.
“Jas,” Beau growls. “Don’t you dare.”
Too late.
Jasper crawls further up the bed until he reaches me. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. “Mornin’, Red,” he murmurs against my mouth. “There’s coffee downstairs.”
I smile despite myself. “Hmmm. Morning. You’re really on one this morning, aren’t ya?”
“Sure am,” he says proudly before climbing off the bed. He grabs his coffee and heads toward the door, but on his way he reaches down and slaps Beau on the ass through the sheets. “Get up and make us some breakfast, would ya?”
“I really hate him sometimes,” Beau mutters.
From the hallway, Jas calls back, “Love you too, buddy!”
Silence follows his mischievous chuckle, broken only by Beau and Lawson both leaning in to kiss me softly. One at my temple, and the other at my shoulder.
