“We couldn’t do this shit in the living room?” Reed grumbles, scowling at the space behind me on the bed taken by Cole, who’s spooning me.
“You can,” I snark, holding my hands out for the bowl of popcorn he’s holding, adding, “No one’s stopping you. I wanted to watch a movie. That didn’t mean everyone had to come.”
Reed rolls his eyes, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth before he hands me the bowl. He sits on the bed, reaching out and tugging me from Cole’s hold. I plop onto my back before he lays his head down on my stomach.
I laugh, hearing Cole’s huff, but I make it go away, wrapping my hand around his thigh, lifting my head, saying, “Arm, please,” before feeling him slide it underneath.
“What’s the name of this trash again?” Reed interjects, so I flick his ear, making him laugh.
“It’s not trash. It’s a cute Christmas movie about an innkeeper who’s down on his luck until he meets a woman staying there, and then they fall in love.”
“Sunshine, you’re telling me I’m supposed to believe he’s some small-town guy when that inn would value for well over two million dollars in this market. Dumb,” he answers, grabbing my hand before I can injure him again, and brings it to his chest.
I counter as he nibbles the side of my palm, “Oh my god. It’s romantic, Grinch. And that doesn’t always mean realism. Because, see, it’s fiction.”
“Clearly,” Cole teases. “It says the heroine is a high-powered lawyer…trying to make partner…but takes an impromptu vacation to reassess her life. Unlikely. More like she’s there for a hostile takeover.”
“You’re a hostile takeover of my joy.” I laugh. “Just shut up immediately. Because we’re watching it. So zip it.”
Jace chuckles, sitting at my feet, pulling them onto his lap as he extends a glass of wine my way, making my eyes light up.
“Oooo, yes, wine please. I love you.”
What the fuck did I say?
I blink, stunned by my own words. I didn’t mean that I loved him. Obviously, but it’s awkward now that his dick’s been in my ass.
“Ummm,” I say, cutting the silence. “I didn’t mean…I mean…” I take a breath, feeling my cheeks heat. “That’s not what it sounded like…come on, that would be grounds for a restraining order. I meant it as much as when I say it to the guy at the deli because he saves me one of those extra-large pickles. You know what I mean.”
I don’t know why I even tried to explain because I can already tell what’s about to happen.
Jace crosses his arms, his brows pulling together as he pretends to be mad.
“So, you’re saying you tell every guy who feeds you an extra-large pickle that you love him?”
Oh my god. I squeeze my eyes closed for a second before I stare up at the ceiling, knowing they’ll never let me live this down.
Cole dips his head toward me. “I’m hurt and frankly disappointed. You don’t think my pickle is extra-large? You’re a cruel woman.”
Reed rolls his head toward me, a combination of mischief and bullshit written all over his stupidly gorgeous face. “And to think I thought you liked choking on my pickle.”
I shake my head, kicking at Jace as I laugh. “I hate you guys. But you know what? You deserve to know that Francis owns my heart because his pickle puts all of you to shame. And it’s the only one I’ve never faked choking on.”
I start laughing because they all make a move like they’re gearing up to pounce, but before they can, Alec walks in on his cell, grabbing our collective attention as he speaks.
“We’re stocked here, so I’m not too worried. But I appreciate the call, Chief.”
He hangs up, looking at the four of us cozy on the bed, and holds up the phone as if to relay who he was speaking to.
“Fire chief letting us know they won’t be clearing the roads tomorrow as expected.”
Wow. Tomorrow’s already Monday. A tiny frown forms on my mouth. Weekend’s over.
Alec sits in the chair next to the bed, propping his feet on the mattress.
“What the hell are we watching?”
I’m staring into space, hearing one of the guys answering him before my head turns, my eyes lagging as I face him—another thought brewing.
“When do they expect to clear the roads?”
He takes a swig of his drink before he answers me.
“They’re aiming for Wednesday, gorgeous. Because more snow is expected tomorrow and Tuesday.”
Oh no. I don’t say that aloud. At least, I thought I didn’t until four voices sound off at the same time saying the same thing.
“What’s wrong?”
I shrug, feeling silly, but I answer anyway, “Tuesday’s the eve of Christmas Eve.”
“Or the 23rd, as the rest of the world knows it,” Reed offers with a chuckle, but I click my tongue against my front teeth.
“Shut up. I mean that’s the day my sister and I have this tradition where we arrive at my parents’ somewhere around the crack of dawn. And we stay in our pajamas day-drinking while watching every conceivable Christmas movie. We’ve never missed a year together.”
The look on their faces makes me want to brush away the worry because that’s what they have behind their eyes. Worry. It’s so sweet that I don’t even know what to do with it.
“It’s fine. I’m being dramatic. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Nobody speaks as I press play on the television, hoping to erase what I just said from everyone’s memory. But I know that won’t happen because I only glance at my phone before Reed sits up to nab it for me. Before treating me like a pillow again.
Me: I might not be home until sometime on Tuesday night.
Elle: Well, well, well. You’re alive. I know you haven’t even scrolled up to look at the two thousand messages I left you. Give a girl a little dick, and she forgets where she came from. Way to let the hooker fame go to your head.
I’m grinning because, in my sex fog, I forgot to message her back after the deed was done. Maybe forgot is a strong word, more like decided I wasn’t telling her another word because I knew she’d want all the damn details. And I’m keeping those all to myself for just a little bit longer.
Me: Omg. Quit. I told you last night I’d fill you in when I see you.
Elle: I wish I had a brother. If there’s anything you can count on, it’s dudes sharing…PUN INTENDED.
Before I can type back, Cole steals the phone in my hands.
“No, no, no, no, no. Hold on. What are you doing?”
He has me in a loose headlock as he takes a photo of us.
“Introducing myself to your sister,” he offers with no apology for reading my texts.
“Cole,” I shriek, reaching for my phone, but he keeps it away from me as he types before tossing it to Reed.
“Reed,” I bark. “Do not text my sister.”
But he isn’t listening. Reed holds the phone out, puckering his lips as he takes a selfie. Good god. Eleanor is probably in heaven.
“Hello,” I yell, trying to make my smile go away, “I’m very serious. I’m going to get mad.”
No acknowledgment is given other than their chuckles.
Before Reed can take another shirtless photo of himself, Jace steals my phone, briefly typing something before taking his selfie.
Et tu brute? That’s it. I hate them.
The problem is that I don’t. And the smile on my face is the dead giveaway.
Cole nuzzles my hair, pressing a kiss to my temple. I bite my lip as he says, “Think of it as proof of life since we’ve spent two days murdering your pussy.”
“Proof of life would be photos of me, not you.”
Alec hands my phone to Cole, who puts it back in my hand with a smirk. I scroll up to where Cole started the thread and almost scream-laugh. Because along with one photo after another of these idiots are bookended messages by Cole first, then Jace.
Me: Hello, Eleanor. We apologize for stealing your sister. But I have a favor to ask. Please take these photos to Francis, the guy at her deli, and tell him his pickles are no longer needed.
Me: Yeah and let him know if she chokes on his pickles again, I’m gonna shove all the cold cuts down his throat.
The bubbles show before Eleanor’s text comes through.
Elle: Honestly, forget Tuesday—Ask if they have brothers or friends. Maybe we should start a new tradition. One where ten lords are a leapin’ into this pus—
Before I can finish reading, I drop the screen to my chest and look over at Cole, hoping he didn’t see the last part. He pulls me close, kissing my forehead.
“See. Proof of life.”
Wait, what? I lift my phone, quickly scrolling back up through all the pictures. But instead of noticing them, I see me. All the tiny pieces of me that are woven around them in every photo.
“What time is it?” I mumble, feeling someone running their knuckles up and down my jaw from behind. “Or maybe I should say, what day is it?”
“Monday.”
I turn around with my coffee cup in hand to see Alec’s smiling face.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“The sun’s almost up, gorgeous. Follow me. I have something I’ve been meaning to show you.”
I take a sip of my coffee, sliding my hand into his without question. I knew it was early, but I hadn’t bothered to check the time before crawling out between the guys and making myself a coffee.
It’s part of my new go-with-the-flow attitude. I figure hedonism is my new life aesthetic.
I follow behind him as my eyes shift past the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. With all the lights off, you can see the snow falling outside. It’s slower than I expected since the roads couldn’t be cleared but still beautiful and quiet in that magical Christmas movie way.
I shiver. Alec looks over his shoulder.
“Cold,” I whisper.
“Blankets,” he whispers back, swiping two off the couch.
Alec wraps the crimson cashmere around me, snuggling it up under my chin before smiling at me. We stand there in silence, only our collective breathing, the only thing giving away our presence.
Alec’s lips part as if he’s about to speak, but the moment is interrupted by my stomach growling.
Alec’s eyebrows raise as my shoulders shake with laughter.
“Do we need to feed you again, gorgeous? You weren’t lying when you said you had a healthy appetite.”
I shake my head, lifting to my tiptoes.
“I’m not hungry for food, Alec.”
He smiles against my lips, kissing me gently.
“Maybe we should do that thing you seemed to like the other night.”
I nod, biting my lip as I drop back to my heels. Knowing exactly what he’s talking about.
We’d only made it halfway through the movie before someone made a move. I’m not even sure who touched who first—me or Reed. But I do know that I found myself straddling him, reverse cowgirl, as Alec became very well acquainted with the back of my throat before he came down it.
The best part was when Alec did, he looked me directly in the eyes, saying nothing. And I swear I could see reverence in them. After he finished, he gently swiped his thumb over my used lips, ensuring I was left as clean as I began before whispering, “You’re perfect.”
It was so sexy and adoring that the moment burned itself into my mind.
I blink, staring up into his bright eyes, into all the little specks of blues that mix with a streak of green. Just like that, the quietest thought in the recesses of my brain begins to yell at me.
You like him. You like them.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck.
There would be no mixing business with pleasure, Samantha. You’re here for the weekend. That’s it. That’s what we all agreed to. It’s not like I could date them. I mean…I can’t…right?
Oh my god. Why did I even pause on that thought?
Dating four guys at the same time is only for reality television shows that hand out roses, and romance novels. Not real life. A few days ago I was having a small panic attack over the idea of sleeping with them but now I’m going to date them? Yeah, right.
But therein lies the problem. It’s only been three days, and the bar for men has already been moved to an Olympics kind of high. Like the kind of high you see and think, “Yeah, someone might die making it over that bar.”
God, I can’t like them this way. Because what the hell am I going to do after I leave? Redo my Tinder profile to say: Must-have—friends I can fuck and who like to cook for me. Will also let me talk endlessly about how I’d redo their kitchen layout. Bonus if you have shitty taste in movies but are willing to sit through cheesy romantic comedies debating the reality of character career choices. And please have excellently timed water jet skills in the Jacuzzi.
And make me laugh, feel worshipped and play with locks of my hair like Alec is doing right now as he stares down at me.
Shit. No. Once the roads are clear, we will go our separate ways, sexually speaking. Oh Jesus, how am I going to work with them again?
I’m so fucked. Or maybe it’s fine…yeah, it’ll be fine. Sucking off all a guy’s friends automatically excludes you from being his plus-one…two, three, and four. But choosing paint colors is fine. Until it’s not.
This is the worst. I mean, what did I even think could happen? That I’d put the guys in my calendar like the moon cycles? Reed’s dick is waning while Jace’s is waxing? Whatever the fuck that means.
But then again, I guess I could take a dick break for my period during the blood moon. Eww, Jesus, why am I like this? This is no time for humor. I’m literally trying to figure out how to polyamory with four dudes who just wanted to fuck me for a weekend.
How fucking starved was my pussy? One dirty dip, and she’s a crack whore.
Crack is wack. Whitney said so. I’ve got to get my shit together. Maybe first I should stop pretending that this is all about sex. It may have started that way, but I fear I’ve caught an STD of the heart, and no amount of penicillin will cure it.
My eyes search Alec’s, my mouth tipping up into a grin entertained by my rambling thoughts as he sweeps my hair behind my ear before pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I don’t even want to ask what you’re thinking, do I?” I bite my lip. Shaking my head as he adds, “Come on.”
I tug his hand, still following. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing, or am I supposed to guess?”
He just grins, walking toward Jace’s room. So I tug his hand again.
“I thought we were recreating last night. Doesn’t that mean we should wake everyone up?”
“This is just for us.” He smiles back over his shoulder before leading me straight into the bedroom.
My brows furrow, clumsy words tumbling out.
“Wait, why are we in Jace’s room? And more importantly, are we allowed to do this?”
Alec shuts the door behind us, pausing for a moment, tilting his head.
“He has the best view…and do what, exactly?”
My eyes widen, trying to make him catch on. But he just raises his brows.
“You know…” I lower my voice for whatever reason. “Have sex without the others. Is that, like, breaching our contract?”
“I don’t remember signing anything.”
Jerk. He’s teasing, but my question is valid. My hand darts out, wrapped in a handful of the blanket as I playfully push his chest.
“Come on. You know what I mean.”
He takes my hands, leaning down and kissing me before speaking.
“We’ve never done this, sweetheart…spent more than one night with a woman. We barely know the women we—” I feel the frown, so I know he sees it. But he smirks. “Let’s just say that this—our time here with you—is unexplored territory.”
Why is my heart beating so fast? And why am I about to say the thing I know better than to say? Still, I don’t even try to stop the words from tumbling out.
“Do you wish we could explore it, though?”
That question reeks of complication and a foregone conclusion of a no, but I don’t take it back.
I think it’s because the way he’s looking at me makes me want to know if he likes me the way I like him. Kind of like when you’re in middle school, and you let your friend concoct a note to pass with boxes to check for yes and no.
Check yes, Alec.
Alec looks back over his shoulder, and my eyes drop to his cheek, noticing the streak of light spreading across it.
“Yeah,” he whispers, pulling me against him, turning us toward the window as the room illuminates with the most vibrant pinks and oranges as the sunrise makes its grand entrance. “I do, Samantha.”
