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My cheeks heated. I glanced at Micah, and found his gaze soft as well. “You were mine the second I saw your face when you were drawing the ocean.”
My breath caught at the earnest tone in his voice, and if I was honest with myself, I had known better. I’d let my worries get the best of me, but I couldn’t pretend their feelings weren’t every bit as sincere as mine were. Even if I had truly doubted their feelings, the expressions on both their faces was more than enough to convince me otherwise.
“What about Garrett?” I asked.
I wasn’t even sure what I was asking. Garrett had only kissed me once, when I’d stepped out of the car today, and half of me thought it had only been the sheer relief of having me safely back. And yet I wanted him every bit as much as the other two, and I knew he wanted me as well. I could see it in his glances, in the tension between us, and I didn’t even have to close my eyes to remember the sound of his voice, hot and low in my ear as I laid panting on Micah’s bed. You’re ours now. Ours, not theirs.
But part of me now wondered if he only cared about me as far as protecting me, and because of what I meant to his roommates. He was so hard to read.
Micah seemed to understand what I meant though, and gave me a sad smile. “Garrett has a hard time trusting people. He wants you, but he doesn’t want to want you. It makes him afraid to care about people, does that make sense?”
I nodded slowly.
“He just needs time. He’s not good with change, and things were easier when it was only the three of us.”
I could certainly understand having a hard time adjusting to change. And my life over the past year had been nothing but change. And yet, despite it all, despite the loss and the sadness, the rejection and confusion and fear I’d felt over the past months, not to mention the life-changing revelations of the past hour, I found I couldn’t regret where I’d ended up. I could wish the circumstances that had gotten me here were different, but I couldn’t wish away a second of time I’d spent with these amazing guys.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice little more than a whisper. “For telling me the truth.”
“We don’t like keeping secrets from you,” Micah said.
Devan chimed in with an apologetic grimace. “We really wish we didn’t have to.”
“It’s okay,” I told them. “I understand.” And I thought maybe I really did. I reached over, smoothing away the crease between Devan’s brows with the tip of one finger, and smiled as his frown melted away with the touch, but a second later my smile turned into a yawn.
“It’s really late,” Micah commented with a wry smile. “We should all get some sleep.”
I glanced around. “I’m guessing no one wants to brave the cold to walk me to my dorm. Should I stay in here then?” They did have a spare room, after all, but since it was unused, the bed wasn’t made up. It had sheets, but no pillows or blankets.
Devan cast me a questioning glance. “Do you want to stay in here?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I’ll go back to my own room if you want me to. I don’t want to impose, I only thought—”
“No,” he broke in hastily. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant, you’re welcome to stay with one of us. Or we can make this bed up if you want your own space.”
My cheeks grew warm remembering the night I’d spent in Micah’s bed before Thanksgiving break. Curled tightly together, his breath warm in my hair, arms wrapped around me. I cleared my throat.
“I’d love to stay with one of you, but…” I looked at Micah’s tousled hair and the tender softness of his hazel eyes, currently bright without the barrier of his glasses. I looked at Devan’s twinkling eyes and scruffy jaw, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. I looked at the lines of ink running the length of Micah’s exposed arms. I looked at the definition of Devan’s chest beneath his t-shirt.
“How am I supposed to choose?” I wailed.
Devan choked on a suppressed laugh and Micah’s face creased into a smirk. “It’s only for sleep, Camilla. It’s late, you’ve had a rough day, and we’re both perfect gentlemen.”
I glared at them. “What if I don’t want you to be perfect gentlemen?”
Two smiles wiped away in perfect unison, leaving behind sharpened gazes.
“Wait—” I told them. “I have an idea.” I rose from the bed, surveying the room. It just might work. “Micah, move the desk against the other wall. Devan, come with me.”
39
We left Micah looking confused but amenable, and retreated across the common room to Devan’s bedroom. Twenty minutes later, after some very hushed furniture moving and stifled laughter, we had two mattresses pushed side-by-side across the floor of the spare bedroom. We’d had to move the bed frame out to the common room to get them both to fit, and the mattresses left very little space to maneuver around, but they fit the bill perfectly. We’d grabbed all the bedding from both guys’ bedrooms, and managed to create what I could only describe as a nest, piled high with blankets and pillows, and plenty of room for three people.
Hell—plenty of room for four people, but I vowed I would let Garrett make his own choices and fight his demons at his own pace.
The second the nest of beds was complete, Devan grabbed me up in his arms, swinging me over the soft bedding. I squealed, thinking he was going to toss me down and wanting him to, but he was apparently more mindful of my injured arm than I was, because instead he lowered me gently to the blankets. He removed the sling, warning me in a mock stern growl not to move my arm, then covered my body with his, our lips finding each other in a scorching kiss. The warmth and weight of his body over mine was delicious, pushing me heavily into the mattress, and I groaned deep in my throat as his leg came down between mine, pushing my thighs apart.
We’d only just started, and already I found myself wound tight with desire. I bucked my hips up against his thigh, searching for friction, and he pinned me down with his hips, grinding the hard evidence of his own desire against me. I whimpered at the sensation.
