Page 151 of Unravel Me

“I can’t believe I’m not wearing any pants,” Jaxon says, and then, “I’m in.”

“You?”

“What? I’m not in a relationship.”

“You still fuck nearly as much as the rest of us,” Garrett argues.

Jaxon runs a palm down his proud chest. “Yeah, I’m hard to resist.”

“I’m absolutely not in,” I tell them.

“Aw, come on,” Carter whines.

“I just started having regular sex a month ago. I’m not about to give it up.” Also, I’m kinda scared of Rosie. She likes to be fucked to sleep the night before a big surgery, or an important test. It helps her unwind and take her mind off it, otherwise she’s up all night hyperfocusing. She also likes morning sex, and shower sex, and the other afternoon I fucked her on my kitchen counter while Connor was napping upstairs. I’m not gonna be the one to take that from her.

“Then bet on me,” Carter says so simply, like it’s…logical. It fucking isn’t. That’s why I snort the loudest, most incredulous laugh. “I won’t let you down, Adam, I promise. Plus, we’re on the road fourteen days in November. Which means I only have to resist Olivia for sixteen days. I can do it. I can.”

He sounds so confident, it’s both comical and sad. After all these years, Carter thinks I don’t know him. After all these years, Carter doesn’t know himself.

“No.”

“Don’t bet on me,” Emmett says. “I know exactly how this is gonna go when I drop this on Cara. Hint: not fucking well.” He shakes his head. “And goddammit, I love my wife, but I amterrifiedof her.”

“You can bet on me,” Garrett assures me. “Don’t worry. Jennie’s not the boss of me.”

I blink at him. “My money’s on Jaxon.”

“Fuck yeah!”

Carter stretches his arms overhead. “Yeah, just wait ’til the girls see us in the costumes I picked out for us tonight. They’re gonna be on their knees, begging for a piece.”

* * *

“Are you—”

“Yes.”

“Adam.” Rosie folds her lips into her mouth, but it doesn’t stop her laughter. It shakes her entire body instead as her eyes roam down my body, then back up. Down again, then up. Down once more, and finally that laughter breaks free. “I can’t handle this,” she cries, hands on her face, and I’ll tell you this: she’s definitely not on her knees, begging for a piece.

She’s so fucking adorable in her ladybug costume, and I’m…I’m fucking…God, I can’t even say the words.

Somehow, Carter’s found a way to top the Britney debacle.

There’s a manly shriek from the downstairs bathroom, and I know Jaxon’s just discovered his fate.

“I’mnotwearing this!”

“You have to!”

“I’m not dying my hair!”

“It’s just colored hair gel! It’ll wash right out!”

Rosie and I exchange a look. “Ginger.”

She peeks over her shoulder, then steps toward me, pushing me back into the bathroom I just stepped out of. “You know,” she murmurs, trailing her hand down my cropped orange tank top, over my bared abs. “I think this suits you. Orange might be your color.”

“I’m gonna be fucking freezing.”

---