Page 112 of Well That Happened

Hunter doesn’t move. Neither do I.

Interesting.

Caleb nudges me. “Your turn, Rilee.”

I sip. Slowly.

His brows lift. “Oh really?”

I glance at my glass. “Once. A long time ago.”

“Does he know?” Caleb asks.

“Pretty sure he never had a clue.”

Hunter shifts beside me, jaw tight.

I don’t look at him.

Caleb taps the table. “Grayson. Hit us.”

Grayson tilts his head, eyes on me. “Never have I ever fantasized about someone I shouldn’t.”

I freeze.

Then sip.

So does Caleb.

Grayson does not.

Hunter drains the rest of his drink.

Caleb’s eyes gleam. “All right, grumpy. Spill it. Who’s the fantasy?”

“Pass,” Hunter mutters.

“Nope,” Caleb says. “That’s not how this works.”

Hunter’s eyes flick to me, then away. “Not saying.”

Which is, of course, saying everything.

The air shifts.

Caleb whistles low. “Okay then.”

To break the tension, I turn to Grayson. “Your tattoos. You get them all at once, or one at a time?”

Grayson blinks. “You sure you want that for your turn?”

“I’ll allow it.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Started sophomore year. One after another. Got the wolf after I transferred. Needed something that looked like strength. Even when I didn’t feel it.”

That lands heavy.

But then he looks at me, eyes soft. “You ever think about getting one?”

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