Page 54 of The Laughing Game

I had three choices.

I could write them a note and summon an Uber, so that I could sleep in my own bed, in my familiar house, which waskind ofan appealing idea.

I could go back to the guest room and hope I didn’t lie awake until dawn.

Or I could see if there was space in the king bed for one more person. It seemed strange to be apart from them, after we’d gotten so close. They’d invited me into their room for the night, but also made sure I knew that the guest room was mine if I wanted it.

At the time, it had seemed like the most sensible choice. Whatever was going on between the three of us seemed to be happening fast, and it had seemed sensible to slow things down. But now I wasn’t so sure.

I heard the soft pad of footsteps and looked up.

“I thought I heard you down here,” Gideon said, yawning and blinking in the faint light.

“I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet,” I said. He looked adorable and sleep-mussed and younger than his twenty-six years in a pair of pink booty shorts and nothing else.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course. Just having trouble sleeping.” I shrugged and smiled.

“Oh, honey. Come to bed with us!” Gideon said, giving me the sweetest smile.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes. I can’t promise Vihaal won’t fart or snore,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But just before we settled in, he said he wished you were there with us.”

“Really? He did?” The thought warmed me in places that had been cold for too long.

“Uh huh,” Gideon said, yawning. “Come on.”

He reached for me and I took his hand. He tugged me behind him up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Vihaal.

“Oh good,” Vihaal murmured from the bed. “Get in here.”

“You can scooch in next to me,” Gideon said, climbing under the covers and shuffling over to Vihaal, who put an arm around him.

“Get in the bed and go to sleep, Angel.”

“Yes, Vihaal,” I said.

The sounds of steady breathing, and the warmth of our combined heat, helped me slide into a deep, restful, and secure sleep.

* * * *

I opened my eyes to a ray of sunlight bouncing off the wall through a tiny gap in the curtains. I lay there, with someone’s—presumably Gideon’s—back against mine. As I contemplated the multiple random occurrences that had led to me waking up in the bed of two fascinating and attractive men, Gideon sighed and rolled over, flinging his arm across my shoulder.

I blinked, so charmed in that moment, and able to feel the press of his morning erection against the top of my buttocks. I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d been.

I closed my eyes and drifted in and out of consciousness, until a giggle and a moan woke me.

“He’s awake,” Gideon said, his voice breathy and soft.

“Well, he is now,” Vihaal murmured. “Good morning, Angel.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, as Gideon moaned again, his breath hitching in a telltale way.

“I’m just giving Deo a little good morning handy, if you’d like to watch,” Vihaal murmured.

A good morning handy?What was this utopia I’d somehow become a part of?

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