“How are you doing? Feeling okay?”
“I’ll get you some water,” Dean offers, slightly panicked that we may have pushed her too far.
He immediately walks over to a pair of joggers lying on the ground and jumps into them.
She chuckles, the sweet noise breaking out into a full giggle fit. “No.Stop.” She laughs. “Dean, I’m fine.”
He settles the joggers on his hips and slouches, reddening as he realizes he was freaking out for nothing. “Oh … good.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he smiles, dimples popping in the sides of his cheeks. I’ve never seen him so … frazzled and off his game. It’s fucking hilarious.
“Icould use a glass of water.” I smirk, a full smile taking over when Cirella giggles again.
Dean flips me off. “Fuck off. Get it yourself.”
“Rude,” I scoff.
Cirella sits up, gently getting to her feet. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Lyhot?” I finish her sentence. “Thank you.”
She looks back at me and rolls her eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you that. It might make your head explode.”
“Won’t be the only thing exploding because of your mouth.” I smirk, my eyes slightly hooded.
Shaking her head with a smile, she bends down to get her panties and leggings, and I enjoy the view unabashedly.
I still can’t believe that just happened.
I knew our physical relationship would find its way back, but I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. Dean and I were ready whenever, and if choosing us in that moment made her happy, so be it. I’m certainly not complaining.
We both watch her in awe as she wiggles her bottoms up her legs and hips. Her bra, tank top, and cardigan are still in the hallway, but I wouldn’t mind if she stayed topless altogether.
But as her arms start to cover herself, I know she won’t be comfortable like that. Fisting my T-shirt that’s sitting on the edge of the bed, I toss it to her.
“Why, thank you, Prince Charming.” She grins. “What a gentleman.”
I shrug and click my tongue. “I know.”
She pulls it over her head, and it falls to the middle of her thighs, the Legends logo big across her chest. It looks perfect. Seeing the Legends logo staring me down reminds me about dinner tomorrow.
“What are your plans tomorrow night?”
Hesitantly, she asks, “Why?”
“Come to dinner with us, at Griffin Hawthorne’s place,” I tell her, not phrasing it like a question, but a request.
“Like a date?” She fights her smile.
Dean walks over to her and kisses her forehead. “Yes, Ciri, a date.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush again. “O-okay.”
“Is that a yes?” I sit up eagerly.
Slowly, she nods, biting her lip. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I smile. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Dinner’s at eight o’clock. We’ll drive you.”
