Chapter 29
Maddy
Istretch my arms over my head as I wake up, my vision slowly adjusting to my surroundings. Adrian’s bedroom is as big as my old apartment. The view out the floor-to-ceiling windows is incredible and the sun is fully up and shining.
Shit. I’m totally late for work. But so are they…
I turn my head and a sharp jawline comes into view. Adrian. On my other side, there’s a muscled arm draped over my stomach that definitely belongs to Beck.
Meanwhile, Caleb is asleep on the leather chaise lounge. There is definitely not enough room in this bed for all four of us and I’m guessing he moved sometime during the night so he could get some sleep.
None of the guys seem to be awake yet.
I try to sit up, but Adrian’s hand grabs my wrist and he mutters, “Five more minutes,” in a voice so smooth I almost comply.
Beck groans, stretches, and cracks an eyelid. “You’re up,” he mumbles, blinking and squinting into the sunlight coming through the windows.
Caleb suddenly lifts his head and looks at me with a sleepy, fond smile. “How’s everybody doing?”
I sigh contentedly, unsure if I’ve woken up in an alternate reality or if this is really my life now. Either way, I’m here for it.
“When did you move over there, Caleb?” I ask.
“Right after Beck nearly kneed me in the balls,” he replies, making us all laugh.
“This setup is definitely not going to work long-term. We’ll have to figure something else out,” Adrian says and then sits up, and runs both hands through his hair.
Even first thing in the morning, Adrian is basically a Calvin Klein ad—so hot it’s hard to look at him.
Beck rolls to face me, his arm still draped across my stomach, eyes glinting with mischief. “Morning, beautiful,” he says, then makes a face and starts rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, I’m hungover on a Tuesday. This is bad.”
I laugh. “I feel like this might be the norm for you.”
“You’re not far off the mark. I’ll start the hangover concoction,” Caleb says, swinging his legs off the chaise lounge. “Coffee for everyone?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
He grins, and I feel the memory of last night’s giddiness all over again.
We get out of bed in a surprisingly coordinated fashion, as if we’ve done this mutual unentangling a million times before. I’m last up, and I wrap a blanket around my shoulders as I shiver.
“Does it matter that we’re late for work?” I ask the question as I pad into the kitchen.
“Nah, we’re the bosses,” Beck says as he starts rooting through the fridge. “Why the hell does Adrian have three different types of orange juices? I didn’t even know there were three kinds of orange juice.”
Caleb rolls his eyes and laughs. “Just pick one.”
“Pulp or no pulp?” Beck asks me. “You pick for me.”
“Mmm… Pulp?”
“Solid choice,” he chuckles, and then eyes Adrian, who’s just walked in and is staring at the coffee pot like it’s an employee who’s not doing their job correctly. “You know glaring at the machine isn’t going to make it come out any faster, right?”
Adrian mutters something incoherent and then rubs his eyes.
“You’re clearly not a morning person,” I say, shocked at the realization. “I seriously thought you’d wake up in full-on work mode.”
“Ha ha,” he eyes me, a half-smile on his face. “And, aren’t you just the early-morning comedian?”
I giggle as I stand in the middle of the room for a moment, unsure what to do. Then Beck appears behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and drags me to the island.
“You’re in charge of taste-testing,” he says. “My hangover pancakes have been accused of tasting horrific.”
I snort. “How can you screw up pancakes?”
Beck leans in, lips brushing my ear. “I have no idea. Which is why you’re responsible for taste-testing and reporting back what the problem is.”
“I think that may be above my paygrade,” I joke.
He bites my neck in response and then releases me, grabbing a bowl and cracking eggs into it with a newfound energy. He adds in the mix, measures out the milk, and I can tell from the way he’s not looking at the instructions that he’s made these pancakes a hundred times.
I turn to see Adrian watching us, sipping his cup of coffee that has finally finished brewing. He sees me staring, just as Caleb places my own coffee in my hand.
“We should probably not all head into work at the same time.” His voice is commanding, as his eyes bounce from mine to Beck’s to Caleb’s.
“I need to shower and get dressed anyway,” I point out. “But isn’t it already going to be weird that we’re all late?” I immediately think of Marissa and what passive-aggressive comments she might make.
Ugh. I hate her.
“It’ll be fine.” Beck starts heating up the skillet, his bare chest on full display. He catches me looking, flexes, then immediately ruins the effect by dropping pancake batter on his foot. “Fuck!” he laughs, and Caleb is already there with a paper towel, dabbing at the spill.
I sit on the counter and watch them all interact. The energy is weirdly peaceful and comforting. There’s an easy choreography to the way they move around each other—Beck is like a ray of sunshine, Caleb is like the doting parent, and Adrian looms over everyone trying to orchestrate the whole thing.
If this is what mornings are like in this strange fever dream, I’m not sure I ever want to wake up alone again.
The first plate lands in front of me, the pancakes golden, topped with strawberries and powdered sugar.
Beck wriggles his brows. “Alright, babe. Taste test ‘em.”
“Got it,” I laugh. I taste the first bite and almost moan. “Oh shit, this is so good. I thought you said your hangover pancakes suck.”
Beck winks at me. “I was just kidding. Nothing I do sucks, but you already know that, don’t you?”
Caleb makes the rest of the pancakes, and we’re all wolfing them down like starving animals.
“So,” Caleb says, after swallowing a huge forkful. “Maddy has a good point about us all going in late at the same time. What are we going to tell people? You know… about what this is.”
Beck shrugs. “As far as I’m concerned, no one has to know. Not yet, at least. I mean, we fucked in the conference room, and not a soul noticed.”
Adrian gives him a warning look. “That can’t be a frequent event. If we do that every day, eventually, we will get caught. Not to mention, we’ll get nothing done. And we do have a company to run.”
“So then, what’s the answer?” I ask, suddenly feeling insecure. “I don’t want to be a secret…”
“You don’t need to be,” Caleb says, taking his last bite and then setting the empty plate in the sink. “I’m sure we can figure out how to do this right.”
“Yeah, and then we can just knock down all the walls between our apartments and have one massive penthouse,” Beck chuckles, stabbing his fork into his pancakes.
“Right,” I snort, and then pop my plate into the dishwasher. I eye the clock. “I really need to go get ready for work.”
“I suppose that’s okay,” Beck hums, leaning in to kiss my lips. “I need to get moving, too.”
“Same,” Caleb agrees.
I turn to him as soon as Beck’s lips leave mine, and I kiss Caleb, then Adrian. A sigh escapes my lips as I pull away, overwhelmed by the feelings swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of the three of them.
“So does this mean I’m your girlfriend?”
“Duh,” Beck chuckles, winking at me. “And we’re your boyfriends.”
I giggle. “I like that.”
“Me, too,” Caleb adds, folding the blanket that I left on the barstool. “Now, go get ready for work.”
I nod and then slip out and head for the elevator. I feel like I’m on cloud nine, the memories from the last twenty-four hours on repeat in my brain. However, all that comes crashing down the moment I step into my apartment.
“Oh my gosh! Where have you been?” Riley folds her arms across her chest, a concerned look on her face. “I know I’ve been busy with work, but you could’ve let me know you weren’t coming home last night.”
“I sent you a text,” I say, digging my phone out of my purse. “You never texted me back…” My voice trails off as I click the side button.
It doesn’t light up.
Whoops. It died.
“Maddy,” she snaps. “I thought you freaking died. I was about to call the cops and accuse your bosses of murder.”
“I’m so sorry.” My shoulders fall as I head for the phone charger we leave on the kitchen counter. I plug in my phone and then give her a remorseful look. “I really didn’t mean to scare you. I spent the night at Adrian’s penthouse… with all three of them,” I add, my voice coming out as a squeak.
She gapes at me. “Oh my god. Are you serious?
I nod, and Riley’s eyes go wide, as she follows me to the bathroom, stepping in as I strip down and turn on the shower.
“Okay, spill it. Every detail, no skipping.” She sits on the closed toilet lid.
I let out a sigh as I step under the warm water. “We went to Pulse. It was insane. Beck bought me, like, seven shots and we were up in VIP, and then there was dancing, and…” I pause. “Then I went home with all three.”
Riley exhales on the other side of the shower door. “Keep going.”
“We all went back to Adrian’s. But I guess I should back this up a step, because earlier in the day we agreed to an arrangement…” I reach for the shampoo, a little sad to wash off the men’s scents.
“What kind of arrangement?”
I try to put it into words, but it sounds absolutely insane to admit to someone who’s not a part of the dynamic. “I… We… We are all together.”
Riley falls into silence. “What does that even mean, Mads?”
“I’m their girlfriend. Exclusively.” Riley doesn’t respond, and I peek out from behind the door as soon as I finish rinsing the shampoo from my hair. “You’re not saying much.”
She leans back, folds her arms, and studies the ceiling, as if she’s searching for divine answers.
“Okay, look.” She finally meets my gaze.
“I want to be supportive, and I really do mean it when I say I’m not here to judge, but I have to ask—are you out of your mind?
I mean, three guys? And they’re your bosses? ”
“Technically, yes, but they want to make it like, official? And transparent? And not a secret anymore?”
Riley shakes her head. “And you think this will work?”
I grab my towel from the rack and then wrap it around my body. “I know it’s crazy, but everyone seems happy so far…”
“Yeah, I mean, you look happy.” Her tone is difficult to read, as she picks at the hem of her shirt. “You look like you just got back from a spa weekend where you’ve been pampered from head to toe for 72 hours straight.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.” I laugh, but she doesn’t join me.
She’s still not convinced. “You’re a grown-up, babe. If you want to shack up with three absurdly hot men who sign your paycheck, I guess I can’t stop you.”
I let out a sharp exhale. “Thanks, I think?”
“I’m just worried about you.” She frowns. “Please be careful and protect yourself. People at the office will talk when they find out. How do you all plan to handle that? They’re not just going to throw you to the wolves, right?”
“They won’t.” I feel myself growing defensive. I don’t know if I want to cry or laugh, but I hate the anxiety that’s now flooding my system.
“I hope not.” Riley stands and lets out a sigh before giving me a big hug. “I’m glad you didn’t disappear and die. I think we all need to have dinner tonight. So I can look them all in the eye. I need to know they’re not messing around with my girl.”
“Dinner?” I echo her, my eyes growing wide. “Tonight?”
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ sound in the word. “I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” I say. “I’m sure the guys will be excited.”
At least, I hope they’ll be.