Page 189 of Pucking Around

His body goes stiff. “I don’t snuggle.”

“Here, kitty kitty,” I tease, stretching out next to him and slinging a leg over him.

He groans. “Hurricane, I just want to sleep.”

“I thought you wanted ice cream.”

“No, Jake wants ice cream.Youwant ice cream. I never know what Mars wants. AndIwant to go to sleep. Since my mattress is now in here, I have to sleep in here.”

I wiggle closer to him. “I don’t want ice cream anymore. I just want this.”

“I never wanted ice cream,” Ilmari adds with a shrug.

Jake sighs, still holding the tray. “So, I guessI’mbringing this back downstairs.”

“Leave the phone and the charger,” Cay mutters, eyes still closed.

Jake turns and leaves with a huff, Poseidon racing off behind him.

Ilmari drops down on the stretch of empty mattress and rolls to his side, curling himself in close behind me.

“Someone needs to turn the light off,” Caleb mutters.

“Jake will do it when he gets back,” I say with a sleepy yawn. I shift on the bed until I can slip under the makeshift covers. There’s a sheet and a blanket, which is good enough for me. Behind me, Ilmari does the same, eager for us to be skin-on-skin. I reach a hand back to brush his hip and find bare skin. “Kulta…are you naked?”

He hums low. “I sleep naked.”

I smile, eyes closed. I knew that already, but I wasn’t sure if the same rules applied around the guys.

“Perfect,” Caleb mutters. “A naked Finn, a hairy dog, and Jake, who snores.”

“Don’t forget me,” I tease.

“And what’s your cursed trait?”

“How is that not obvious? I’m a snuggler,” I reply, pressing myself closer to kiss his bare chest.

He groans.

“Hey, you comfortable over there, Mars?” Jake calls as he enters the room and flips out the lights.

“Yes,” Mars replies.

“Good, cause it’s your last fucking night on my mattress,” he growls, dropping down to the free spot on the other side of Caleb. “I’ll call it a ‘welcome home’ gift, but it’s the only one you’ll get. New house rule: no one steals Jake’s mattress. Trust me, you donotwant to live with me if I’m not getting a solid eight hours of sleep.”

“Listen to the man,” Caleb mutters, already halfway to dream land.

“I’ll trade with you, angel,” I offer.

He just snorts. “And wake up with a Finnish sausage up my ass? I don’t think so.”

“Everyone shut up now,” Caleb grunts.

“Hey Mars, how do you say ‘good night’ in Finnish—ouch—shit, Cay,” Jake pouts.

Showing mercy on Caleb, I scoot back, reducing my snuggling from a full-on squid assault to a respectable hand hold.

Taking a deep breath, I speak into the silence of the room. “I love you.” I don’t qualify it. I don’t need to. They know. And now, after tonight, I know too. They love me.

---