e he’s all about some romance. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I roll to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Wren’s fingers tickle my lower back. “Do that some more. It feels good.” I lean toward her hand.
She smiles and her fingers play across my skin. And I can’t think of anything except how good it feels waking up with her and how I want to do it every day.
A heavy knock sounds on the door. “Are you decent?” Lark calls out.
“Not even close!” I yell back.
Wren giggles into her pillow. “We had better get dressed. They’re not going to go away.”
I stand up and shake my jeans out of the pile they’re in on the floor, and then tug my shirt over my head. It settles around my waist and I watch Wren lick her lips as she eyes the trail of hair that leads below my waistband.
“BFFs don’t lick their lips at one another.”
She buries her face in her pillow. “I did no such thing,” she murmurs.
Oh, she did. And I liked it. I want her to do it more. “You sending me out to face them alone?”
She nods. “I need a shower. And to brush my teeth.”
“Do you want me to go home?”
She quickly lifts her head. “Don’t you dare. It’s your fault they’re here. Go entertain them while I get ready.”
I hook my shoes with my fingers and carry them to the door. But at the last minute, I turn back and go to her. I lean down and kiss her temple, and she lets out a happy little noise that’s somewhere between a titter and a sigh. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”
“Don’t mess up the bestie-dom, Shepherd!” she cries.
I laugh as I go out the door.
Lark and Ryan are in the kitchen, arguing with their hands. I stand and watch them for a minute.
“There!” Ryan says. “Now you can go in.”
“I could have gone in five minutes ago!” she shouts at him, her hands flying wildly.
“They were in bed, Lark! And dickhead was probably naked!” He jerks a thumb toward me.
“Why am I a dickhead?” I ask.
Lark rolls her eyes and goes into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
“Now tell me how the fuck that happened,” Ryan demands.
I go to the fridge and get a bottle of water. My head is pounding and Ryan isn’t making it better. “How what happened? And how did you get in?”
“Lark used her key. And avoidance is not a pretty color on you.” He glares at me. “How did you end up in bed with Wren?”
“Henry.” I just give him the one word.
His brow arches. “Henry got you laid?”
I throw my now-empty bottle at him and it bounces off his chest. “Nothing happened. I was drinking with Henry and I couldn’t drive home. That’s all.”
He grins. “Henry meddled. The man is a genius. Beneath that shiny bald head lies the brain of a true intellectual.”
“Again, nothing happened.”
“Yet.” He smiles. But then he suddenly sobers. “You want something to happen, right?”