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Hammer shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You're staring,” she said.

“So is he.” Ghost didn't deny it.

Angel reached up and removed her crooked halo and tossed it onto Monster's desk. “There.”

Ghost's gaze followed it. “Still an angel?”

“Never was,” she admitted.

Hammer smiled. “Could've told you that.”

Angel stepped closer. “You complaining?”

“Hell no.” She caught the front of his vest and pulled him toward her. Their kiss was immediate and hungry, all the teasing from downstairs finally breaking loose. Hammer's hands settled at her waist, and Angel pressed closer as Ghost stood behind her. His mouth brushed the side of her neck, and Angel shivered. There was something overwhelming about being surrounded by them. Not like being trapped, but held and wanted. They had chosen her.

She turned her head and caught Ghost's mouth next. His kiss was different, but it always was. Hammer burned, but Ghost consumed, and somehow, she needed both. Ghost's hand slid into hers as Hammer kissed along her jaw. Angel closed her eyes.

Three weeks ago, she'd walked into Monster's Madhouse looking for one reckless night with no promises, no future, and no feelings. She'd gotten everything she'd been trying to avoid—two men who challenged her, protected her, infuriated her, and wanted her. Not for a night, but for as long as she'd let them.

Angel opened her eyes. “Wait.”

Both men stopped instantly, and Ghost searched her face. “What?”

Angel looked at Hammer and then at Ghost. “I love you.” Hammer stared at her, and Ghost looked like she'd shot him. Angel's nerves exploded. “Well, somebody could fucking say something.”

Hammer moved first. He cupped her face. “You sure?”

“Do not ask me that after I finally got the nerve to say it out loud,” she said.

He smiled. “I love you too.” The tightness in her chest released.

She turned toward Ghost. He hadn't moved. “Ghost?” He looked terrified. That might've been the most shocking thing she'd ever seen. “Say something.”

“I don't know how,” he breathed.

“You know three words,” she insisted. His jaw tightened, and Angel waited.

Ghost touched her face. “I love you.” Her eyes burned, and this time, he looked annoyed. “Don't cry.”

“You're crying,” she said to Ghost.

“Bullshit,” he grumbled.

Hammer laughed. “Your eyes are definitely wet.”

Ghost flipped him off without looking away from Angel, and she laughed through her tears. Then, she kissed Ghost. Hammer wrapped himself around them again, and the three of them stumbled deeper into the office, laughing when Angel bumped into Monster's desk and sent her halo sliding onto the floor.

“Oops,” she breathed.

Ghost looked down. “Leave it.” Hammer's mouth found hers again and Angel quickly forgot about the halo. She forgot about the party outside, and forgot about everything except the hands holding her, the mouths kissing her, and the certainty that neither man was going anywhere.

Ghost kissed her until her knees weakened and Hammer caught her when they did. They traded places around her with an ease they'd somehow developed without discussing it, each knowing when she wanted more and when she needed to slow down. Angel's wings ended up on the floor, and Hammer's devil horns joined them. Ghost's supposedly nonexistent costume remained irritatingly intact until Angel grabbed the front of his shirt.

“Off,” she ordered.

His eyebrows rose. “Bossy.”