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Callan smirks. “Look at that,” he says. “I win.”

“Oh, you mother fucker,” Tate says, laughing. “If you want to play like that, we’ll be here all night, and Brynn won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

“So much for the high road.” Ares shakes his head. “You’re such a cheater.”

All I can do is laugh breathlessly, my pussy and body throbbing from the come down of that spike of pleasure.

It’s getting late, and we’re all a bit worn out after all that. The teasing and banter starts to trail off, and we just enjoy being here together like this.

Callan drags his fingers over the curve of my shoulder, following the natural rises and dips of my body. His fingers trace idle patterns, and before I can ask him what he’s thinking about, he tells me, his voice rumbling low.

“I want to tattoo you,” he murmurs. “I have so many ideas for what I would put here.” His hand slides down my side to my hip. “Or here. You’re the perfect canvas.”

I bite my lip. Before, I never really thought about getting a tattoo or anything more permanent than my ear piercings, but with Callan’s hands on me and his eye for art, I’m starting to like the idea. “If I ever did get a tattoo, I would want it from you,” I tell him.

“Promise?” he asks.

“Promise.” I hold out my pinky and link it with his in a pinky swear. Something passes over his face, but it’s gone before I can really see it.

I roll over and reach for my phone, grimacing when I see the time. I didn’t mean to stay this long, and the idea of going back out into the cold to go back to my parents’ house isn’t appealing.

“I should go,” I say. “It’s late.”

Callan pulls me in closer to him, his eyes dark. “Stay a little longer? Just for a bit.”

My heart thuds in my chest, and I bite my lip. I shouldn’t, but… “Okay. Just for a bit.”

Callan smiles and goes back to idly tracing his fingers over my skin, and the warmth of his body combined with the soothing feeling of him touching me makes it easy to doze off right there.

The next time I open my eyes, there’s sunlight streaming in through the picture window across from the bed. I blink, confused about where I am for a second. There’s a warm body pressed against my front and another against my back, and when I turn my head, I can see Tate and Ares on the other side of me.

Shit. I’m still at the cabin.

I had every intention of going back to my parents’ place last night, but I must have fallen asleep when Callan asked me to stay. Then I realize that Callan is still in the bed with us. He’s the warm body plastered to the front of mine, holding on to me. He must have broken his rule about not sharing a bed.

Just because he wanted to sleep with me? It’s possible that he just didn’t wake up after we dozed off, but that still means that he felt comfortable enough with me to fall asleep in the first place. And comfortable enough to stay all through the night. That makes something flip over in my chest.

“What time is it?” Tate mumbles against my back. He splutters a little bit, spitting out a mouthful of my hair.

“Too early for this shit,” Ares mutters. “Go back to sleep.”

“You go back to sleep,” I reply.

He snorts and Tate rumbles a laugh.

“Is this what you do in the mornings?” Callan asks. “Just start yapping as soon as your eyes are open.”

I lean up to check. “His eyes aren’t even open yet,” I say. “For all we know, he’s yapping in his sleep.”

Tate pinches me lightly, which makes me yelp and then laugh. It’s a warm, sleepy moment, and I can’t even work up to feeling bad about not going back to my parents’ house last night when I get to wake up like this. Warm and surrounded on all sides by people who see me and want me.

I stretch leisurely, nestling back down among the pillows. After a few moments, Ares rolls out of bed, mumbling under his breath about needing to pee. He disappears into the bathroom, and I consider trying to sleep a little more when I hear the front door open.

That makes my eyes fly open.

“Ares?” a woman’s voice calls out. “Are you here? I had some extra time this morning, so I thought I’d get a head start on looking at the hot water heater.”

Everyone freezes as footsteps come toward the open bedroom door. There’s no time to hide or jump out the window or anything. Only an agonizing countdown of not enough seconds before Catherine, the owner of the cabin, comes poking her head in and looks right at the bed.