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“Pepperoni and olives?” Mac asked.
“It’s her favorite,” Bash said around a mouthful of meat lovers.
“I think it’s my new favorite.” Mac picked up a third piece and ate it like someone who had spent the night playing hockey, only to wear himself out making love to me.
“Then you’re ordering your own next time,” I said, pulling the rest of it closer to me.
“You don’t want some of mine?”
He had ordered ham and green bell peppers. I tentatively took a bite and handed him the rest of the piece. “No, thanks.”
He shrugged and shoved it into his mouth. “More for me.”
Bash scoffed, eating his pizza with more finesse. “No wonder your nickname is Savage.”
“Are you staying in here tonight?” I asked Mac.
“No,” Bash unhelpfully cut in.
Mac picked off a green pepper and tossed it, catching it on his tongue. “Strelow and I are bunking together. I’d much rather stay in here—”
I glanced at Bash, and his face softened. “Fine.”
“That’s a glowing yes from you, Bardot,” Mac said, smacking him on the shoulder.
“If you cuddle up to me—”
“That’s the last thing I want to do, Bardot,” Mac said with a wink.
Bash’s face reddened, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing.
“It’s settled. You’re staying.” I put my arms out, grabbing both of my guys. “One bed. Me in the middle.”
Mac kissed my hand and dipped his head. “I like bossy Emily.”
Bash was silent, but I knew him well enough to know he was the happiest he had been in a very, very long time.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mac
“Sleep well, Pink,” I whispered, brushing my lips across her forehead.
She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up. Her lips were tempting, but after the emotions of last night, she needed to sleep until her alarm went off.
Our kiss would definitely be true love’s kiss and I didn’t want to risk waking her.
I glanced at Bardot and sighed. Last night was confusing. He dropped his grumpy, stick-in-the-mud act while we made love to Emily, but was it just for her sake?
I knew he hadn’t done it for me. Still, it was nice to see the real him again. Uninhibited as he pumped inside Emily.
I raked my hand through my hair and watched him, taking advantage of the chance to study his face while he wasn’t scowling.
I picked up Emily’s phone and snapped a picture of the two of them so she could have a picture of Bardot like this.
In sleep, he was an angel. An innocent boy who hadn’t lost his best friend. A decent person who wouldn’t have ghosted me the second we were back in town.
He wouldn’t ghost me this time. Not now that Emily was between us. She was a glue binding us together in a way fate had failed the first time.
