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That’d be the perfect end to my day.
All the lights are on at the house. It’s shining like a beacon in the darkness of the grounds, and I pull up on the long driveway, calculating my odds on getting inside and making it to my room without someone springing out at me.
In the back of my mind, I know I should call Émile. I know he’d make it better. Through a joke, or logic, or by coming over here and distracting me with sex, but I have no energy for any of that. I want to cry, but I don’t. I want to sleep, but I know it will be impossible.
No matter what Reece said, I can’t imagine my epic fucking fail will go unnoticed by investors. It definitely wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by Josie. She’s probably on the phone to her mom, mocking what a complete screwup I am. My parents must be breathing a sigh of relief tonight.
I scowl at the sting in my eyes and jump out of the car, making my way quickly up to the house. I’ve almost got myself convinced that if I walk fast, with purpose, and don’t make eye contact with anyone that they’ll all leave me alone.
I really should know my roommates better than that.
I’ve barely stepped inside, kicked off my shoes, and taken a few steps into the hall when Gabe launches himself at me. He collides with my chest, anooofpuffing from me, before he takes me down. My face is smothered into the antique rug as Gabe drapes himself over my back.
Footsteps—Seven, based on the Medusa tattoo over his foot—and then weight over my legs. “This is cozy,” he says.
I try to answer but someone else lies down on my back, my ass, more weight on my legs. I’m hugged from all sides, crushed into the floor. Someone’s stroking my hair, probably Gabe, and a rough hand that I’m assuming is Madden’s rubs my arm.
That prickling in my eyes is back and I screw my whole face up against it. Refuse to let it out, to let that feeling win.
“Still think buying a weighted blanket would have been easier,” Xander says from somewhere above.
“What are you complaining about?” Rush asks. “You’re on top.”
“It’s an awkward angle, though.”
“I have an elbow in my balls,” Seven grunts. “Feeling little sympathy right now.”
I suck the largest breath down that I can manage with them all on top of me. “At least tell me Madden’s wearing clothes,” I wheeze.
“Shh …” he says, the pressure running over my arm increasing. “You already know the answer to that.”
Fucking hell.
Teeny footsteps come from somewhere to my left and then Kismet appears, trotting over and butting his head against mine. His ugly squished face makes him look like he can’t believe he’s part of this shit, but I’m glad he is. Even with the pain in my ribs and the lack of oxygen, I’m glad they all are.
It’s hard to be numb when you’re being crushed to death, after all. Gabe shifts away from Kismet who hisses loudly at thesudden movement, backs up a few steps, and then, when he’s sure the coast is clear, creeps closer and sets one tiny paw on my head.
My eyes fall closed, a host of memories trying to take over, but I turn my focus to my friends. Their weight, their scent, their softly murmured voices. Seven is thankfully keeping his mouth closed, because as much as the adviceit was bound to happen eventuallyoryou should be used to landing on your assis accurate, it’s also not what I need to hear.
I have no idea how long we’re all pancaked together, but after a while, the tension leaves me.
“There’s a high likelihood this is the greatest sight I’ve seen in my life.”
I jolt at Émile’s voice. Of course he’s here. And as much as I want to throw everyone off and launch myself at him, I’m also kinda hoping they’ll squash me so completely I won’t need to face him after this.
“Should I join the pile, or are you done?” he asks.
Gabe shifts so I can see his face. “Your call.”
“Up.” It comes out as a grunt, but they get it because one by one they climb off me.
“Finally,” Xander groans.
Seven tackles him into the couch and pretends to smother him with a pillow, while I do everything I can not to look at Émile.
Unfortunately, he’s much smarter than me because he steps closer and crouches right in my line of sight.
“How did you know?” I ask him.
