They looked ridiculous—two huge guys suddenly silent.
I almost laughed.
“It's too late to kick you out now. Sleep here.”
Caleb's eyes lit up. “Really? I can stay?”
Ethan's voice calmed: “Thanks, baby. You're the best.”
“But tomorrow morning? Both of you leave. I don't want this circus.”
I turned toward my bedroom.
Ethan lagged behind.
“No following. Sleep on the floor.” I glared.
“But… two months without you.” Ethan sounded pitiful.
“Did I stop you? Or were you ‘busy'?”
“My fault. Won't happen again.”
“Yeah, ‘again' is debatable.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
I shut the door and locked it.
“Floor's yours. Blankets in the closet—you know where.”
“Got it.” His voice dropped. “Baby, I screwed up. Shouldn't have let him sub in. I was slammed—I didn't mean to ignore you.”
“I regret it. I let the wolf in.” Ethan sounded sincere.
I scoffed. “No apology needed.”
“Baby?”
“I don't care who I texted or saw. You look the same.”
He was quiet a moment. Then: “Good night, baby.”
That look—soft, but something darker underneath. Almost obsessive.
Terrifying.
I'd hooked up with two psychopaths.
“Bunch of lunatics.”
