26. The Distraction Armadillo

Briar

As soon as I shut the door to my room, I lean back against it, trying desperately to catch my breath and calm down. I'm too excited. Too nervous. Too hopeful.

Too turned on.

Is that a thing?

I shake my head to shake off the barrage of questions. Questions are the last thing I need before two freaking men come into my room to service me while another guy does…who even knows what Gavin's doing upstairs?

Donut is wandering around the room, a little restless, sniffing the carpet, peering under the bed. I have to deal with her too.

I rush over to my suitcase—hers too—and grab a dog toy, then toss her a stuffed armadillo that she pounces on. Then I urge her into her dog bed, a little cuddler cup that Trina gave me since her dog's obsessed with them too.

Donut hops in with her toy, thoroughly distracted by the stuffies squeaker now. Maybe I need an armadillo too. Instead, I head to the bathroom, freshen up, then go to the nightstand and take out my toy, setting it on a white pillow on the king-size bed. The toy mimics a tongue, so color me intrigued. But as I prep, picking a playlist I title Hot Summer Nights, even though it's February, I feel too practical.

What do I even do when they show up in a minute?

Everything's happening too quickly in my head. Closing my eyes, I just breathe.

In, out, in, out.

And, dammit, I add an affirmation. Admittedly, it's one I've never used in class. Or, well, ever.

But why the hell not start?

Tonight, I will come. Tonight, I will come. Tonight, I will come.

When I open my eyes, I hear two sets of footsteps outside my door, then a rap. My stomach flips right as Donut barks.

"We have…visitors," I say to my pup, smiling devilishly at the plural.

I have visitors and guess what, world? This girl is going to come tonight.

Yes, that's how an affirmation works.

I pop up, cross the room, and open the door. My stomach jumps, but screw nerves. In the hall are two big, strapping hockey studs who want to make me feel good.

I drink them in—Rhys with his dark hair and his deep brown eyes. Hollis with his messy golden-brown locks and his flirty gaze. Rhys is wearing a Henley and jeans. Hollis is more casual, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Both are barefoot.

Briefly, I wonder what they did in the last five minutes. If they talked about me. Shot the breeze about their upcoming away games. Played hoops. Who knows? But I don't want to get caught up in my head.

I focus on action rather than questions.

"Come in," I say and before I lose my nerve, I grab the collar of Rhys's Henley, tug him close, and drop a kiss to his lips.

He's only taken by surprise for a slice of a second. There's an oh, then a pleased murmur as I coast my lips across his. His hands come up to my face and he cups my cheeks, kissing me back with hungry lips. I taste scotch on his tongue and it mingles with the cedar of his cologne or maybe his soap.

He drags the pad of his thumb across my cheek. A zing shoots down my spine.

I break the kiss, and turn to Hollis to gauge his reaction. Does he truly like sharing me? And wow. The verdict is self-evident—the man looks downright satisfied. His blue eyes spark.

Hollis nods to the door. "Maybe I'll just shut this now."

"You do that," Rhys says as Hollis closes it behind him, shutting out the rest of the house. Gavin's the lone man out. A pang of missing digs into my chest. What is he doing right now? Is he reading? Working out? Listening to music? Watching a show? Does he know what we're up to here in the corner bedroom? But the questions break apart as Rhys's gaze drops to my mouth. "Need more of you. I've been wanting this for a long, long time."

I go still even as my blood rushes hot. "You have?"

"Yes." One word. An admission. A declaration.

Since he's being patently honest, I ought to do the same, so I turn to Hollis. "Did you tell him why you got me the toy?"

"No."

I asked Hollis not to say a word this morning. He honored my wish, and that means the world to me. But some secrets are meant to be shared.

"I want to tell him," I say.

"It's your call," Hollis adds. "Always."

It's an easy call. I turn to Rhys who lifts a brow, wary, but intrigued. Sure, these two men may like to share women, but what if one guy gets to her first? Does that change the score?

Time to find out. "Hollis and I…we had some fun last night," I begin, and Rhys's curiosity burns off.

He steps back before he bites out, "You two were together?"