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“Before you what?” I asked, breathless and confused by the sudden shift.

His smile was strained but still playful. “Before I decide to find out just how sturdy this counter is.” He stepped forward for one more quick kiss, but even that brief contact seemed to test his control. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

He practically bolted for the door, moving with that same impossible speed I’d seen from Derek earlier. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of him actually running to his car through the rain, like something was chasing him—or like he was running from something inside himself.

I touched my still-tingling lips as his taillights disappeared into the storm. Between Marcus’ kiss by the lake, Derek in the woods, and now this… what the hell was I getting myself into? And why did all three brothers seem to be fighting the same losing battle with themselves?

The way they moved sometimes, the strange tension in their bodies, how they’d suddenly seem to be listening to voices I couldn’t hear… it was like they were all caging something wild inside themselves. Something that apparently really, really liked me.

Scout’s sympathetic whine from the couch seemed to say he was wondering the same thing. Or maybe he was just judging his master’s dramatic exit.

After the chaos of the evening, I desperately needed a shower. The stairs creaked under my feet as I headed up, Scout following dutifully behind like my own personal security detail.

The bathroom was functional again. Hot water streamed steadily from the showerhead, and I nearly moaned at the first touch of warmth on my skin. It helped clear my head but didn’t quite wash away the memory of three very different kisses from three very similar brothers.

When I went back downstairs in my sleep clothes, toweling my hair dry, I found Scout had made himself comfortable in my sleeping bag. The massive dog looked up at me with innocent eyes, as if he hadn’t just commandeered my bed.

“Really?” I asked, but he just wagged his tail, scooting over slightly on the couch. The sleeping bag looked a lot more inviting spread across the cushions than it had on the floor. “Fine. We can share. But no hogging.”

Scout’s tail thumped against the cushions as I slipped into the sleeping bag beside him. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable, and Scout’s warmth was oddly soothing. But my mind wouldn’t shut off, replaying Marcus’ intensity by the lake, Derek’s raw hunger in the woods, and now Caleb’s playful seduction in the kitchen.

I grabbed my phone, hitting Luke’s number before I could talk myself out of it.

“Twice in one day? Be still my heart,” Luke answered dramatically. “Did you finally decide to spill about those mysterious mountain men you were totally not swooning over this morning?”

“I wasn’t swooning,” I protested, though Scout’s judgmental side-eye suggested otherwise.

“Please. You get this breathy little voice when you’re hiding hot guy details. This morning you sounded like a Jane Austen heroine with asthma.”

I snorted. “You’re one to talk. Remember that barista you stalked for three months?”

“I did not stalk him! I just happened to need coffee at exactly the same time every day. For research purposes.”

“Uh-huh. And I suppose following that barista’s every social media account was also research?”

“We’re not talking about my perfectly normal caffeine appreciation. We’re talking about you and these brothers you were being suspiciously vague about. So? Did tall, dark, and mountain-y finally make a move?”

I bit my lip. “Well… things might have gotten a bit… complicated.”

“Complicated like that time you accidentally joined the anime club, or complicated like that time you drunk-texted your crush from Art History?”

“More like I might have kissed all three brothers. Separately! Not like, a weird brother sandwich situation or anything.”

There was a long pause. “I’m sorry, you what now?”

“In my defense, they’re really hot! Like, unfairly hot. It should be illegal to have that many attractive people in one family.”

“Let me get this straight,” Luke said slowly. “You’ve been in Murder Mountain for what, less than a week? And you’ve already made out with not one, not two, but three brothers?”

“Murder Mountain is a bit dramatic—”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Homicide Hills? The Peaks of Perpetration? Manslaughter Mesa?”

“You’ve been watching too many true crime documentaries.”

“And you’ve been kissing too many siblings! What happened to my shy, awkward best friend who once hid in a bathroom for an hour because his crush said hi?”

“He got ambushed by unreasonably attractive men with really nice lips?” I offered weakly.

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