Page 33 of Double Pucked

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Chase asks.

Ryker cracks his neck so loudly I wince on behalf of his bones. “Yes. I did. There were three of us in the bed, jackass.”

And you wrapped your arm around my waist and spooned me, you beast.

“Aww, poor baby. Go see the trainer,” Chase says, and clearly I am not needed in their bro banter.

I power walk to the living room, beelining for the coffee table. Huh. My clothes are neatly folded. And warm, I discover when I grab them.

A second later, there’s a hand on my arm. Chase turns me around, his deep brown eyes exploring mine, like he’s reading the room before he speaks. “Don’t go yet. We’re making you breakfast.”

That does not track. “You are?”

“Stay. Let us feed you, at least.”

“I don’t think Ryker wants me to stay.”

Chase smiles and whispers in my ear, “Let me tell you a secret. He woke up early to wash and dry your jeans and undies. I discovered him in the laundry room, hunting around for dryer sheets, and then he asked if I had flour and eggs and all that food stuff.”

Is that my heart fluttering? Yeah, I think it is. Dryer sheetsandpancakes.

“I like pancakes,” I say, loud enough for Ryker to hear.

“Everyone likes pancakes,” Ryker grumbles, but I can translate his pissy mood now, and his words meanI thought you were leaving when I wanted you to stay for breakfast.

I return to the kitchen, nudging Ryker’s side. “Yes, everyone does, even the big bad wolf.”

The wolf harrumphs, but then says, “Do you like coffee?”

“As long as it hasn’t lost its flavor,” I say, with a mischievous grin.

“Course it hasn’t,” he says.

Because you started it right on time for me.

I don’t say that though. He knows what he did this morning, and so do I now, and I feel fifty million times better than I did when I thought they might have wanted to kick me out right away. Plus, these pancakes smell so good. I offer to help, and Chase lets me, so I show off my cooking skills. When the first batch is almost done, I say, “Want to see my party trick? I can flip a pancake five feet in the air.”

“Show us,” Ryker demands.

I slide a pancake onto the spatula, and flip it toward the ceiling, catching it a few seconds later. I take a bow.

Chase whistles. “And I thought jerking off two dudes at once was your party trick.”

A laugh bursts from me. “I guess I have two party tricks now.”

“But keep the first one just between us,” Ryker says, without cracking a grin as he comes behind me, then slides a possessive hand up my back, curling it around my neck. Like he’s sending me a message. He doesn’t want any other men to share me.

I shiver from his touch. From the ownership in it. Then from the way he drags his fingers against my skin, pressing hard and firm. Like he’s marking me as theirs.

But the thing is—I don’t know if they want to share me again either.

And honestly, why would they? I’m just the jilted book nerd who poured out her bedroom troubles to a couple superstar athletes, and they’re the competitive guys who wanted to prove they could fix me between the sheets. They won that contest, and now it’s time for a victory breakfast.

That. Is. All.

And I’m here for sweet revenge on my philandering ex. I make a mental note to post the pool playing video later today so Jasper the Wonderless can cry in his oat milk over that one too.

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