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But there will be time.
She straightens her shoulders, glances down at her dog. “Let me get Donut settled in.” With her dog popping up and following, Briar heads to the door leading inside, stopping before she opens it, turning back to us. “What about Gavin? Is it weird that he’s here?”
Hollis chuckles. “He’s probably doing a face mask.”
That makes her smile. “I’m almost tempted to join him.” Then her eyes flicker, darkening with the thrill of what’s to come. “Almost, but not quite.”
“We’ll be more fun than face masks,” I say.
She grabs the doorknob. “Meet me in my room in five minutes.”
I’m counting down.
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.
