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“Wait. What? Okay, hold on, everyone.” I needed to think. Except that I couldn’t. Thanks to our sexy little threesome, my poor head was muddled. My thoughts were mush.

These guys were great. They were freaking gorgeous, successful, nice as hell, and they wanted to help me out of my shitty predicament.

They outshone Lance in every category.

Which I suppose wasn’t really that hard.

Lance was gradually becoming a distant memory, while my new “friends” made me see that I deserved better. They wanted to treat me like a queen. And they wanted me to believe I deserved to be treated like one, too.

How did I get so damn lucky?

Or was this a short-lived fluke?

“Um, the other guys?”

Dig looked at Carter, then me. “We understand there are two other guys you’ve recently dated, named, um—” He looked back at Carter, who answered for him.

“Tanner and Wyatt. The guys’ names are Tanner and Wyatt,” Carter said.

“Right. Thanks. Anyway, Tanner and Wyatt will be joining us here. They’ll be helping to reno the house, and at the same time, you can get to know us all better.”

“And…the idea is I’ll choose at the end?”

They both nodded. “If you want.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmm hmmm.”

Did I already say holy shit?

Because—holy shit.

Hey, Jayma,” Shelled chirped into the phone.

In about thirty seconds, she was not going to be sounding quite as c

heerful.

I took a deep breath. But it didn’t help. I exploded.

“What the fuck, Shelle? Telling the guys about each other and then sharing their information? Are you out of your mind?” I was trying to keep my voice down so Carter and Dig couldn’t hear me downstairs. It wasn’t working.

“God, you don’t have to yell,” she said testily. “I was doing you a favor. You were wallowing in your own pity party. This will force you to make some decisions and get on with your life.”

She did not just say that.

I took a deep breath. “You have got to be kidding. I was doing just fine until you arranged for me to live with four guys—four guys!”

She giggled. “I know, right? Doesn’t it sound awesome? Hey, can I have a chance at your leftovers?”

She did have a point. It might very well be awesome. Weird, but awesome.

However, I wasn’t done being mad.

“It’s not funny. Stop laughing,” I told her.

But she didn’t stop laughing. She couldn’t. And her laughter always got me.

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