Chapter Forty-Two
Maddie
The next week passes in a blur of warmth, exhaustion, and what I can only describe as emotional whiplash.
Not the bad kind. Far from it. It’s definitely the good kind of emotional whiplash.
The kind where I wake up tangled in my sheets with somebody’s arm wrapped snugly around my waist and spend the first thirty seconds of consciousness trying to remember which man I fell asleep next to the night before.
I can’t say it’s something I’ve ever experienced before, and there’s nothing more maddening than trying to scramble through my memories while still half asleep, attempting to determine which delicious Greek god is occupying my bed with me.
My bed somehow develops a shift schedule after that, as though my bed has formed a custody agreement written by men who have become far clingier than I even imagined they would be.
Not that I mind. In fact, I’ve been floating on cloud nine all week, happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest that my bed has turned into the world’s sexiest game of musical chairs, or that my sleep schedule now depends entirely on which man decides I look cuddly that night.
Hell, it quickly becomes my favorite form of entertainment.
Caiden sleeps like an affectionate golden retriever who wakes with the sun, Bax sleeps like a weighted blanket with abandonment issues, and Ryan often attaches himself to my side whenever he thinks I’m sound asleep.
And Rayne? That guy has somehow managed to make simply existing beside me feel intimate, and it’s a far more potent feeling since he hasn’t spent the night since I fell asleep on top of him when I was drunk.
He’s always close, though. Always there. But he’s patient in a way that sometimes makes my heart ache, and that ache grows with every moment we spend together.
The others, however, have no qualms about hogging my bed.
In fact, Caid spends two nights with me, all cheeky grins and hand-tousled blond hair, often clinging to me while I’m editing photos at random hours of the night.
Bax steals another two nights, all tatted skin and rippling muscle, enjoying my presence as much as I enjoy his.
Ry drifts in and out, a little subtler about his affection, but no less thorough in making me feel like one of the luckiest women in the world.
And what’s better is that he’s never one to shy away from my affection, no matter how loud, chaotic, or bizarre it is.
I’m pretty sure he’s an affection whore in disguise, I just haven’t been able to prove it yet.
And then there’s Rayne.
He’ll curl against me on the couch while I work or we watch movies and shows.
He’ll willingly let me steal his hoodies, several of them already hanging in my closet.
I’ll receive absentminded kisses on my temple or shoulder while I’m working, or he’ll silence me effectively with his mouth when I’m rambling about what a shithead one of my assistants is, or he’ll listen so intently to me bitching about how much of a threat to society the Autobots really are, even if he hasn’t a single clue what the hell I’m talking about.
Honestly, these men will never appreciate the danger those sentient robots pose to Earth. Those bastards have no consideration for anyone’s property, and it shows throughout a seven-movie franchise.
But anyway, through it all, Rayne never pushes.
He never reaches for more than what I know he’s ready for.
Which, honestly, doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I don’t mind, because there’s a wild feeling that comes with being trusted with the speed someone is comfortable with.
Not to mention, there are still question marks surrounding my tatted enigma.
I’ve barely learned anything new about him or his past since we formed a five-bodied relationship, his reluctance to talk about anything to do with it still evident when I mention something in passing.
Again, I don’t mind. If he wants to talk to me about it, I will be all ears and more than happy to hear him out.
There’s no judgment in wanting to take things slow, even if it means my curiosity niggles at me every day that passes.
It’s something I can lock away until he’s ready to divulge more about himself.
I’m simply happy knowing he’s mine, receiving his attention and affection, and seeing my apartment filled with small things that belong to him.
That’s enough for me until Rayne is ready for more.
Until then, I’m floating through days filled with laughter, cuddles, takeout containers, and a smorgasbord of manly limbs.
It doesn’t take long for my apartment to stop feeling like mine and start feeling more like ours, though I’m convinced that started happening long before we all fell into this relationship.
I guess I’ve just started noticing more.
Noticing the clutter of shoes near the door and the additional coffee mugs that have found their home in my cabinet.
Then there’s Caid’s stupid protein bars that somehow keep appearing in almost every room in the fucking apartment like a nutritional haunting.
To top it all off, I’m tired. Constantly.
Deliriously, bone-deep tired. Because apparently dating four men means sleep becomes a myth.
No one lets you sleep anymore. After a week, I no longer know what it means to be well rested.
Caid will wake me with kisses to my shoulder, needy and romantic as though he’s stepped right out of a movie.
Bax will drag me into his lap anytime I pass by him.
Ryan keeps touching me absentmindedly whenever he’s near, pressing his hand to the small of my back or brushing his fingers across my hip like he’s making sure I’m still there.
And Rayne? That guy slays me with a look alone. With every glance, he makes me feel like I’m something unbearably precious, like he might break if I disappear. That look is lethal to my heart, mind, and body.
By Friday night, I’m overloaded on affection, deprived of personal space, and running on nothing more than fumes, serotonin, sexual energy, and daily doses of coffee that should come in the form of an injection or drip. I would accept either.
The movie playing on my bedroom TV is nothing more than white noise at this point, because I couldn’t tell you the name, who’s in it, or what it’s about.
If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it’s a horror movie of some sort.
I think I spied zombies, maybe a train. I can’t be completely sure if it’s even in English.
And I’m not alone, because nobody is paying attention.
Rayne is lying with his head resting on my stomach, his dark hair soft between my fingers as I sift through the strands lazily while he scrolls through something on his phone.
Baxter is stretched out behind him, his back resting against the headboard of my bed as he allows me to use his arm as a pillow.
His hair is loose tonight, dark strands reaching his shoulders in messy waves to alleviate the headache that’s been plaguing him since before he trudged into my apartment.
On my other side, Caiden has taken up residence, sprawled out starfish-style as though he owns half of my bed. At this rate, I’m considering charging rent, because I’ve never known anyone to take over so much of such a large bed in all the years I’ve known Alaskan king-sized beds even exist.
He’s lucky he’s both adorable and sexy, otherwise I’d have kicked him over the edge long before tonight. Instead, I’ve lounged among three out of four of my guys, my brain switching off long enough that the room falls quiet.
That is, before I blurt, “I booked my vacation time from work, by the way.”
My voice is apparently so startling that I feel Rayne flinch before he relaxes again, Bax jerks as though I’ve woken him, and Caid turns his head toward me with a pinched brow.
“Yeah?” he says, green eyes filled with an instant curiosity that warms my insides.
“Mhm,” I reply, pursing my lips. “I have no idea what to do with it, though. Two weeks of freedom, and not a single clue what I’m meant to do with my time.”
“Pretty sure Ry mentioned him suggesting you go traveling for those two weeks, right?” Bax queries sleepily. Oh, my bad. I guess he was asleep.
Lowering my voice slightly, I nod and mutter, “Yeah, I just don’t know where I’d like to go.”
“Anything on the bucket list you want to cross off?” Rayne wonders lowly, his voice vibrating through my stomach.
I sigh. “Ask Caid. That weirdo has been asking me every travel question under the sun. I’m pretty sure he’s auditioning to become a travel agent or something.”
The man in question snorts, but he doesn’t bother elaborating or chiming in.
When I look over, I realize I’ve already lost him.
He’s wielding his phone like a weapon, thumbs already whizzing over the screen, and I know then that he won’t be showing off his mighty knowledge on my travel plans of the past and future. Alrighty then.
“What kind of place calls to you?” Bax wonders softly, the deep rumble of his voice thick with sleep. It makes me shiver, and Rayne huffs the tiniest laugh that he covers with a pathetic little cough.
Rolling my eyes as I continue to play with his glossy hair, I ponder Baxter’s question for a long moment before finally admitting, “Somewhere sunny would be nice. Not necessarily hot, even though that would be a beautiful bonus, but just somewhere where the sun likes to shine.”
“You say that like it’s not sunny here almost every day,” Caiden snorts, finally chiming in.
I turn to glare at him, kicking him weakly with my foot, before I grumble, “I’m serious.
That’s my bucket list, to go somewhere sunny, and pretty, and rich with culture.
Somewhere I can have a field day with my camera, where I can eat plenty of good food and just act like a tourist the entire time. ”