Page 39 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

I cross the room and take the mug from him, careful not to let our fingers touch. "Thanks."

"Sleep okay?" he asks, and predatory male satisfaction in his tone has heat flooding my cheeks.

"Fine," I say, my voice sounding a bit choked.

Alex makes a sound that might be amusement, but when I glance at him, he's still watching me with that calm, assessing expression. "You're a terrible liar," he observes.

"I'm not lying."

"You are." He leans back in his chair, completely relaxed. "You slept terribly because you're overthinking everything that happened last night."

The accuracy of his statement irritates me. "I'm not overthinking anything."

"You are," Nick says from his position by the window. His voice is quieter than the others, but it carries weight. "You're already regretting it."

I open my mouth to deny it, then close it again. What's the point? They can clearly read me better than I'd like. "I don't regret it," I say carefully. "I just think we need to establish some boundaries moving forward."

"Boundaries," Russ repeats, and he's still grinning. "Like what?"

"Like this can't happen again." I gesture vaguely at the three of them. "Last night was... it was a mistake."

"Didn't feel like a mistake," Russ says, and the heat in his light eyes makes my breath catch.

"It was research that got out of hand," I insist. "I appreciate that you all were understanding about the situation, but I think it's best if we just forget about it and move on."

"Forget about it," Alex says slowly, like he's testing the words. "You want us to pretend last night didn't happen."

"Yes."

"No," all three of them say in unison.

The unified response catches me off guard. I look between them, noticing for the first time how different their dynamic is this morning.

Last night when they first arrived, there was tension between them, a competitive edge that made the air feel charged.

Now that edge is gone, replaced by understanding and coordination. They're not competing with each other anymore. They're working together. The realization sends a chill down my spine.

"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't know what you three think is going to happen here, but I'm not interested in any kind of relationship. That was the whole point of the one-night-stands. No strings, no complications, and no expectations."

"And yet here we are," Nick says. "Complicated."

"Only if we make it complicated," I argue. "If we all just agree to walk away, it doesn't have to be."

Russ sets down his own coffee mug and crosses his arms over his bare chest. "What if we don't want to walk away?"

My heart starts beating faster. "That's not an option."

"Why not?" Alex asks, genuinely curious.

"Because I don't do relationships," I say firmly. "I don't do commitment or expectations or any of that. I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Nick asks.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

The single word hangs in the air between us, heavy with implication. I don't know how to respond to that, or how to explain the years of foster care and constant relocation that taught me never to get attached to anything or anyone. They wouldn't understand.