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Fuck, that one word has me dropping all my defenses like a fucking idiot. Why am I like this? Why do I let people talk me into shit I don't want to do just because I… I want them to be happy. Happy with me. I want them to fucking keep me.
My shoulders slump as I get to my feet. “Fine.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking off the vulnerability. “But only because you called me pretty.”
He seethes at that, but the corner of his mouth twitches just a bit.
Logan exhales in relief. “Thank God.”
“Can we watch our movie now?” Owen asks, pointing to the flat-screen currently paused on an image of Orlando Bloom’s face in Lord of the Rings. “We were in the middle of a marathon.”
“You were in the middle of making out,” I correct, offering Christian my hand. He lets me drag him up before quickly dropping my fingers.
“We were not! Logan was explaining the lore.”
“I was not explaining lore,” Logan mumbles, cheeks pink. “I was just saying the extended editions are—”
“Boring as fuck,” Christian grunts.
Owen gasps dramatically. “You shut your dirty whore mouth.”
I bark out a laugh, and Christian heads for the couch. “Whatever. Just play the damn movie and someone order food. I'm fucking starving.”
Logan’s jaw goes slack. “You actually want to watch it with us?”
“Beats sitting in my room listening to you two make macaroni noises.”
“You'd just jerk off to it,” I snicker, earning me the finger.
“Sit your asses down. I'm tired and my lip hurts.”
His couch, for the record, is built for three people. Maybe four if they’re very cozy.
Owen plops down first and pats the cushion cheerfully. “Come on. Devon sits next to me because he’s sweet.”
“I’m what?”
“Sweet,” he clarifies. “Like sugar.”
Christian snorts. “Not the word I'd use for him.”
I shove his shoulder even though my face is hot as hell. “I'll punch you in the mouth again.”
“And he'd deserve it,” Logan replies. “Now, everybody, sit.”
Christian ends up on Owen’s other side, Logan squeezes into the remaining sliver of space near the arm, and then all that's left is me, standing there awkwardly while the three of them wait.
“I'll just, uh, sit on the floor.”
Owen points to his lap with a smile. “You can lie here if you want.”
“I’m not laying on you,” I mumble, even though the idea doesn’t sound too bad.
Christian huffs. “Jesus Christ, just sit down, Dev.”
He shifts, opening up just enough room between him and Owen for me to wedge myself in. His arm moves up to the back of the couch to make space, bicep brushing mine. Like a bunch of weirdos, we all start shifting and adjusting until it just… happens.
