38. Mia
MIA
I woke feeling warm. Sore. A little squished—and unbelievably content. The firm, muscled chest I was nestled up against was Aaron’s. My hair spilled over his shoulder, and I could hear his deep breathing as his chest rose and fell steadily. He was still asleep.
I ran my fingers lightly over the planes of his abs. It seemed too good to be true that I got to cuddle up with a man like this. To touch and be touched by him.
There was another warm presence at my back. I could tell by the arm flung over my hip that it was Diego. I felt cocooned in the best possible way, except there was one person absent. Lifting my head carefully so as not to disturb anyone, I spotted Cody on the far side of Aaron.
He was on his back, his eyes open and staring up at the ceiling. His head was bobbing up and down to a silent beat. He was either playing music in his head or perhaps creating it.
“Hey,” I whispered softly.
He looked over, blinked twice, and then gave a slow smile that made my heart skip a beat. I hoped that the smile I returned was a fraction as warm and welcoming as his was.
I wished I were touching him too, but he was in his happy place with music. And I hoped his happy place also included being in this bed with me, with us—because mine sure as hell did.
Warm lips nuzzled my neck from behind. Diego was waking up. I could almost feel his grogginess behind me. I could also feel the way his muscles clenched as he rejoined the world, and as he slid his hand down my stomach, holding me tighter.
I’d never really appreciated the spoon position, but now I did. It just felt so good to be in alignment with someone else—his knees behind mine, his thighs behind mine, his chest behind my back.
We fit together well. I don’t think he meant to, but the finger Diego slid along my stomach tickled, and I flinched, causing Aaron to stir. His hazel eyes, with those gorgeous flecks of gold, opened and zeroed right in on me. His smile was almost as beautiful as Cody’s.
“Morning,” he whispered.
I whispered it back even though everyone was awake and planted a kiss on the side of his neck. His arm tightened around me, and I rolled onto his chest so that I could kiss his mouth.
Diego moved with me, his hand sliding down my back and coming to rest on my ass—not as if he wanted something from me, but just as if he liked touching me. I could understand that since I couldn’t get enough of touching their incredible bodies.
I ran my hand up and down Aaron’s bicep, marveling at the hard muscles.
He wasn’t a bodybuilder—none of them were—but I just had never known male bodies could be this sculpted and fun to touch.
Their defined abs, the hard muscle biceps—I wanted to touch all three of them at once. It was too bad I had only two hands.
Then I froze, my fingers gliding along Aaron’s arm. There was a line there that felt puckered and uneven.
Blinking, I tossed my hair out of my eyes and examined his arm. In the morning light, I saw it then—what I’d never noticed before under the ink. Scars and ugly marks.
They all looked old and mostly hidden by the tattoo. Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to look him in the face. I hadn’t known this. I’d only seen what his life was like now. His hand glided down my back.
“It’s okay, Mia.” Aaron’s voice was gentle, comforting me when I should’ve been comforting him. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
But I couldn’t help it. I buried my face against his chest, and his arms wrapped around me, one hand stroking my hair.
“It’s all right,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”
I wept for that. I wept for what he’d been through, what Cody and Diego had been through, what so many foster kids had been through.
“Look at me, Mia,” Aaron said, lifting my chin with his finger. As I did, I realized that Cody wasn’t on the other side of him, and Diego was no longer behind me.
They’d given us some space.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“I said I won the lottery at age seven, not before,” he said softly. His hand glided down my back. “I’m pretty damn happy with my life these days.”
I couldn’t look at those old marks any longer, so I let myself get caught up in those lovely hazel eyes. “You got the tattoo to hide them?”
“Not to hide, exactly. More like to make lemonade out of lemons. It was my grandfather’s idea.”
That made me smile softly. And here I’d thought his ex-politician grandfather would’ve disapproved. I kissed him then—not with heat or passion, just the desire to show him how much I cared about him, and how much I wished his childhood had been different.
“Shhh,” he said, stroking my hair. “We’re all a long way from where we started. I like where I am now.”
Looking around the gorgeous bedroom in the luxurious suite, I had to agree with him. “It’s so beautiful here.”
He laughed softly, holding me closer. “And I definitely like where you are now. In my arms and in my bed.”
That was so sweet that it made the tears resume. I let my cheek rest against his chest again. We were silent for a long time as he held me, but I hoped he derived as much comfort from our closeness as I did.
Sometime later, I stirred, my face mashed against his chest. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes.” Aaron smiled down at me. ”But we’d better get up. I think breakfast is waiting.”
I sat upright, pulling the sheet to my chest. A scent in the air made my mouth water. “That smells incredible.”
Aaron was already climbing out of bed and pulling on his pants. “Diego makes the best pancakes in the world. You’re going to love them.”
He waited, looking away when I pulled on my robe and fastened it around my waist. He was back in “gentleman mode,” which was kind of sweet. But I hoped I hadn’t seen the last of the more abandoned side that had come out to play last night.
When I was ready, he held out his hand, and we walked barefoot across the thick, plush carpet toward the kitchen. Nobody was at the large dining room table, but Diego was sitting at the small table inside the kitchen.
Wait—Diego was sitting there?
What?
My jaw dropped as I entered the kitchen and took in the scene. There were a skillet and several pots on the stove, steam rising from them, and a bunch of serving bowls and platters on the counter. One held golden-brown croissants. In the center of it all was Cody.
Cody?
He turned when he saw me, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “Morning, beautiful. Sausage or bacon?”
All I could do was stare. And when words finally came, they weren’t about breakfast meats. ”I have so many questions,” I said, trying to pick my jaw off the floor.
Cody waited, his head cocked, and finally said, “Okay, both sausage and bacon.”
Aaron and I made our way to the table, where Diego looked as stunned as we were. While Cody was turned toward the stove, we had a silent conversation, expressing our surprise.
Then Cody brought over a platter with omelets on one side and eggs sunny-side up on the other. Diego got up to fetch plates while Aaron poured coffee. I just stood there, stunned, trying to wrap my head around this revelation.
When I sat down at the table, Cody appeared out of nowhere and pushed my chair in for me.
I smiled up at him, catching his hand and squeezing it briefly. He went back to the stove, and Aaron and Diego sat down.
Aaron whispered, “What the fuck?”
“I know, right?” Diego shook his head. “I just can’t believe it.”
And all of a sudden, I got the giggles. I put my head in my hand and started shaking with laughter.
“What?” Aaron hissed.
I couldn’t stop. Diego put his hand on my shoulder, giving me a little shake. “What, Mia?”
I finally looked at them. “So you guys were perfectly okay with group sex last night, but Cody cooking is what you can’t wrap your head around?” It was so absurd that I couldn’t stop laughing.
Aaron and Diego exchanged a look. And then they were laughing, too.
“What?” Cody said, bringing over another serving platter.
When he turned back, I caught hold of his arm, tugging gently. “This looks amazing. Please sit down and eat with us.”
He surveyed the counters and stove, and I was half worried that he might make a few dozen more courses, but then he nodded and sat down at the fourth chair.
“Wow. Bon fucking appétit,” Diego said, wonder and admiration in his voice.
We all dove in.
There literally came a point, much later on, when I couldn’t eat another bite. I’d heard people say that before, but this was the first time it felt a hundred percent true for me. Cody’s food was utterly amazing.
I would never admit it, but maybe better than Diego’s.
Of course, dinner and breakfast were two different things.
I’d never been a fan of big breakfasts, but I was now.
I couldn’t stop gushing praise to Cody, who looked a little embarrassed.
He refilled everyone’s coffee when we were done eating, and for a while, we were all too full to talk.
Then, finally, I turned to him. “I’m sorry, but I just have to ask…”
Cody held up his hand. Everyone watched him carefully, waiting.
“I had to cook dinner for my foster family every single night. Every fucking night, from age 13 to 15. After that, I vowed never to cook for anyone again.” He looked around the kitchen, as if just noticing all the work he’d done. “Until today.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Diego asked, “What changed when you were fifteen?”
“I ran away.”
Aaron raked a hand through his hair. “I wish I’d known,” he began. “The three of us—we’ve lived together for a long time, but I’ve sure learned more about you both this week than in the entire last year.”
“Me too,” said Diego.
I laughed softly again. “As soon as we took a break from our classes, that’s when the real education began.”
“Basically, yeah.” Diego turned to Cody. “I’m sorry I tried so hard to get you to cook. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Cody shook his head slightly. “I couldn’t then.”
I caught his eye. “But you could now, right?”
“Yep.” He stood up, carrying two empty plates over to the sink. “I just did.”