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“I’m okay,” I say, my voice comes out weird and broken, but at least I got the words out. Trying to keep my eyes open, I want to look at his face, but my vision is blurry, and I can’t make out all of his features. So I close my eyes and try to remember him instead, but when I do, it’s not Oliver I see… it’s Banks.

“You want us to make you come?” Banks asks, his voice unnaturally deep as he pulls away just enough to speak.

I’m so confused… is Banks here? No… I think I’m dreaming or remembering something. Unable to hold onto reality, I let my mind pull me under, drawing me in, deeper and deeper.

“Yes, please,” the words come out on a gasp because right as I’m speaking them, Oliver slides one of his thick digits into my slickness.

“Fuck, Banks, she’s tight as hell.” Oliver’s voice is strained, the muscles in his neck tight. He looks like he’s ready to explode.

Slowly the puzzle pieces fall into place, painting a larger picture in my head. I was with both of them, Oliver and Banks. I was lying across their laps, while they were touching me… and I liked it. I wanted it, even asked for it.

I try to open my eyes once more, I want to ask Oliver what happened between us, but my eyelids are just too heavy, my head too muddled. I feel his hand cup my cheek, his thumb running over my skin gently, and I take comfort in that. His touch is tender, kind, and before I know it, I’m drifting off to sleep.

The next time I open my eyes, the fog circling my head has lifted a bit. My mind is clearer, my thoughts sharper. I’m still in the back seat of a car and Oliver is still holding me in his lap, although his eyes are closed now, his head tilted back resting on the backrest.

For a long while, I just lay there staring at his sleeping face. It is completely dark outside, but there is a streetlamp not far from us that shines enough light in the car to let me see how peaceful he looks. So angelic, I don’t want to wake him, but I also want to talk to him. Need to talk to him.

“Oliver,” I whisper calling out to him. Stirring lightly, his eyes blink open and like two magnets drawn together, our gazes collide.

“Hey, you. Feeling better?” His sleepy voice is gruff, but the hand cradling my head is warm and gentle.

“Yeah… I don’t know what happened, I think I drank too much,” I admit. Only then do I remember the creep who got handsy with me earlier. “Thanks for helping me with that guy earlier.”

“There is no need to thank me.” Oliver’s voice drops, and I involuntarily shiver at the deepness of it. “We’re friends, and that’s what friends do, they protect each other.”

I don’t understand why if everyone is telling me to stay away from them, why he would protect me, or even say we’re friends. Am I dreaming still?

“Are we friends?” I ask, sitting up, and slowly turning to face him. “Everyone keeps telling me to stay away from you and your brothers because you are trying to hurt me.”

“We’re friends.” He answers, his voice clipped. “And hurting you is the last thing any of us want to do.” The sincerity of his voice causes a slow heat to unravel through my lower belly.

“Were… were we ever more than friends?” I stutter over the words, asking the question. Do I really want to know the answer? All these memories, and thoughts, the things that guy said to me earlier about wanting three… cocks. It was almost as if he was implying that I was sleeping with all three of them.

“It’s complicated… just know that we care about you and we are trying to watch out for you. No one is going to hurt you, not ever again.”

“And by we you mean you, Banks, and Sullivan?”

“Yes, we all care about you.” His eyes dart away, and he looks out the window into the darkness of the night. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, and it’s almost like he’s gathering his own thoughts. “I should take you back to your dorm, now that you’re feeling better.”

I’m about to object, but he’s already out the door, leaving me alone in the backseat. He climbs into the front and starts the car, the engine roaring to life, and filling the quiet space.

The entire ride back to the dorms he’s quiet, and so am I, unsure of what to say or do. I should ask more questions, investigate him and his brothers further, but as soon as I open my mouth to start speaking, we pull up in front of the dorms. The two goons my father sent with me walk up to the car as soon as Oliver puts it into park, almost as if they expected us to be here.

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