“Tell me when you’re ready. Might not be today or tomorrow or next week, but you’ll tell me because not only are we this now”—I wave at our naked bodies tangled together—“but you’re my best friend in the whole goddamn world.”
He nods. “I’m sorry.”
Rather than let him feel like shit, I palm the back of his neck and draw him to me for another kiss. We’re just getting hot and heavy again, our dicks hard and pressed together, when we hear voices.
Fuck.
By the time it registers, Drew barely has a chance to pull the covers over our bodies when someone fills the doorway.
“Holy shit,” Ashton says, gripping the top of the doorframe as he leans into Drew’s room. “I leave you two unattended for two hours and look at the trouble you get yourselves into.”
Beautiful fucking Mia peeks her head around him, her brown eyes widening in shock at the scene before her.
“Oh. Oh my God. Ashton, leave them alone,” she chokes out, her arms going around his waist to pull him away.
Ashton is wearing one of his devious smirks, but his hazel eyes are gleaming with an emotion I can’t quite put my finger on. Not jealousy. Because he has Mia. Right? Not anger because we’re cool now. It certainly isn’t fucking happiness, that much I do know.
“If you guys are done fucking, put some clothes on and come hang out with MiMi and me.” His gaze lingers for a moment longer before he releases the top of the doorframe to grab Mia and toss her over his shoulder, making her squeal with laughter.
“I guess there’s no hiding what we just did,” I say with a nervous chuckle.
Drew gives me a quick peck to my lips. “I don’t want to hide what we just did. Felt pretty damn good to me. Long overdue too.”
We crawl out of bed and I throw on some St. Louis Blues sweats I find folded neatly on the dresser. Drew smirks at me but doesn’t tell me no. He grabs another pair from the drawer and throws them on. I’m too hot for a shirt, so I head into the living room to see what Mia and Ashton are up to while Drew makes a beeline for the bathroom.
“Where’s Mia?” I ask, scanning the space.
“Ran next door to change,” Ashton says, not looking up from whatever he’s doing in the kitchen. “You two kids have fun?”
I walk into the kitchen to find him cutting oranges. “Yeah. How was your date?”
His eyes cut over to mine, a smile playing at his lips. “We didn’t have a happy ending like yours, but I did feed my girl.”
“Hopefully lots of carbs,” I tease, stepping closer to steal an orange wedge.
He stiffens and his hazel eyes take on the despondent look they had all week. “I fucked up with her, man. It should have been me who went to see her.”
I try not to take offense at his words. What Mia and I shared that weekend was amazing. I don’t regret one second of it. “But it wasn’t. I made sure she was okay.”
Rather than get jealous, his shoulders hunch. “Thanks for that. Was her mom really a witch?”
A disgusted snort escapes me. “She’s more than a witch. She’s a rotten, evil cunt. I fucking hate her mom.”
Fiery eyes meet mine. “I’m glad you were there to protect her from that horrible woman.”
“Me too.” I bring the orange wedge up to my lips and bite down.
Ashton’s gaze peruses from my mouth to my pectorals to my naval and then he shakes his head, continuing on his task.
“What are you making?”
“Bahama Mamas. Apparently some douchebag was after my rum.” He points his knife at the bottle on the counter. “MiMi wanted something fruity, so I figured I’d please everyone.” His eyes are once again taking in the way I eat the orange.
A flash of heat zapping through me has me quickly stepping away to toss the peel in the trash. Drew saunters into the kitchen smelling like fucking paradise and I can’t help but grin at him. He throws a wink at me before leaning a hip against the counter to watch Ashton.
Ashton darts his gaze between us and then laughs. “You two are way gayer than me. Look at you in your matching pants. So fucking cute.”
We all laugh as Mia returns, dropping her bag on the floor just inside the door.
And then nothing’s funny at all.
She’s changed out of her clothes she wore to the meet. Her dark hair has been braided into pigtails and her cute glasses are perched on her nose. I’m not sure she’s even wearing pants because the white Nintendo hoodie hangs halfway down her thighs. Her bare, naked thighs. Thighs I’ve kissed and been between. She has on knee-high red and white striped socks and stupid unicorn slippers.
That whole ensemble should not be sexy.
I should not be reliving every second of our time together where I tasted her and touched her.
I’m with Drew. She’s with Ashton.
“What?” she asks, her eyes bouncing between the three of us who’ve gone silent. “Do I look stupid or something?”
Ashton snorts. “Fuck no, MiMi. You’re so damn cute, you gave everyone a boner just by being you. Now come over here and help me make these drinks.”
Tearing my gaze from her, I discover that Drew’s eyes are snared on the way Ashton now has Mia pinned against the counter. Ashton playfully nips at her neck while she places the orange slices into each of the glasses. I walk over to Drew and grab his hand. As though breaking from his trance, he threads his fingers with mine.
“Let’s play NHL 20,” I say to Drew, tugging him out of the kitchen.
Ashton cackles. “Drew sucks at that game, dude bro Bray.”
“I do not,” Drew grumbles as he sits on the floor in front of the television.
I smirk at Drew as I set up the game. He’s such a bad liar. Once the game is on, I plop down next to him and begin whipping his ass, loving how pissed off he gets each time I knock the puck into his net. Ashton shows up with drinks. We absently drink while we play and before long, I’m getting a refill.
“Fuck you,” Drew barks out, tossing his controller to the floor. “I’m not playing this dumbass game.”
“Aww, Drew’s a sore loser,” Mia taunts. “Need a hug?”
“I need a shot,” he mumbles back.
Ashton drops down next to me, grabbing the abandoned controller. He’s a lot harder to beat. We spend the next hour in a heated match, neck in neck. If Mia stopped refilling our glasses, maybe I could focus on the screen a little better.
“Pause it,” Ashton says. “I gotta take a piss.”
He stands and slightly staggers before heading out of the living room. Finally tearing myself from the game, I glance around, looking for Drew. Mia—no longer wearing her hoodie, but a tight red camisole—is curled up next to him and his arm is around her. They’re talking lowly, both of them wearing serene expressions. Her tiny shorts have crept up her thighs, showing a lot of silky skin.
My gut twists in a weird way and I’d like to think it’s jealousy at the way he holds Mia when he could be holding me, but I don’t think that’s it. It reminds me of how it felt to hold her too. She’s so soft and sweet and—
“Mine,” Ashton says, a playful lilt in his voice as he returns and scoops Mia out of Drew’s arms. He sits down at one end of the couch with her in his lap. “Game’s over, man. Put on a movie.”