“So, that’s your plan. Float until you can run.”

“It’s not running.” My voice lowers to a whisper on its own accord. “It’s survival.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Maybe.” I yawn. “But it’s the best option I have.”

He licks his lips. “Go to sleep, Raven. You’re safe in here.”

A tired chuckle escapes me. “No such thing, big man.”

His green eyes bounce between mine, and a flicker of something I can’t name passes quickly before it’s gone. “Close your eyes.”

I do as he says, not necessarily believing him, but I’m already in here now so fuck it. I’ve made stupider decisions than lying in bed with a half-stranger.

A warm palm running up my thigh has my eyes popping open and my muscles lock, but only for a second before I realize I’m in Maddoc’s bed – not a dirty couch in a trailer park.

His hand stops at the apex of my thigh, his fingers pressing into my skin firmly, and then he sighs. Heat spreads through my abdomen as his warm breath fans across my cheek and throat.

Without so much as moving a muscle, I peek up at him.

He’s fucking sleeping. Shit.

I squeeze my eyes closed as I try to work out the right move.

Everything I know tells me to run, that a man is touching me without permission, but my heart rate is stable and my breathing calm. I don’t have that inner inkling telling me to get the hell out of dodge.

Which is the exact reason I decide it’s necessary – no need in it getting comfortable, that’s when the wool falls over your eyes.

I shift on the mattress, attempting to crawl from the bed and back to my own but his eyes pop open and find mine.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” I widen my eyes and his tighten in confusion.

I squeeze my thigh muscle and he drop his gaze to the contact.

But he doesn’t move his hand.

He closes his damn eyes and tells me, “Go back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I lie.

“Yeah, Raven, you were.”

Without moving the hand on my thigh, he uses his other to help flip me over, so my back is to him and he scoots forward. He’s not against me but makes sure his large presence is felt.

It’s felt all right.

But—

“Sleep, Raven.”

My eyes pop open the second the bed shifts and I jolt upward.

Maddoc glances back at me with a frown, running a hand through his dark hair as he yawns. “I gotta take a piss, be right back.”

I don’t say anything, but I sure as hell watch the way his back muscles shift as he walks away. At first glance, I’d call it a cocky, intentional gait, but I’m learning that’s not the case. He simply can’t help himself, it’s a natural swagger he couldn’t dim down if he tried – not that he’d try. He likes it.

And it suits him.

With a groan, I glance around. I can’t believe I slept in bed with Maddoc. And I mean I actually slept in his bed, as in without my knife, completely comfortable.

I groan.

So not good.

When the sound of a toilet flushing is heard down the hall, I jump up and hustle for my designated room.

I go to shut the door, but before I can, Royce pushes it open, effectively throwing himself in the center of the mattress.

“’Sup, RaeRae.” He tucks his hands behind his head, and I move to drop beside him.

I pull the covers over my exposed legs, folding my hands under my pillow.

“Nothing—”

“Yo,” Captain shuffles in wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, rubbing at his eyes.

He drops on the foot of the bed, laying his head across my feet, his legs hanging halfway off the other side.

I look out the doorway when Maddoc’s footsteps draw him closer.

When he glances inside he pauses, glowering at me. He looks away a moment before he too walks in.

“We going for breakfast?”

“I’m too hungover for those twisty ass roads.” Royce slides down the pillows and tucks himself beneath my blankets.

For some stupid reason, my eyes slice to Maddoc.

He stares but still gives expressive reaction.

“Well, I’m starving,” Captain whines.

“I could always eat,” Royce adds and they both look to Maddoc.

He scoffs. “Fine. I’ll fucking cook, but if there’s still people upstairs, I’m kicking them all out.”

“Please do. That Bride of Chuckie, as RaeRae called her, is trying to stick around. Probably waiting to see Cap.”

“Wait.” I push to a sitting position and Royce reaches out with a grin, pretending to smooth my rat’s nest from my face. I smack his hand away, leaving my crazy hair crazy. “You and that chick?”

“She was pissed off. Makes for some good hard head.”

“She’s still up there?” I grin and Royce laughs, looking to Captain.

Captain raises a brow and I smile.

With a laugh, he pushes to his feet and squeezes past Maddoc to get to me. He holds his hands out.

“Let’s finish this, girl.”

He spins around, so I latch on.

When his hands wrap my thighs to help hold me up, Maddoc storms out.

Captain and Royce both chuckle but nobody says a thing.

The second Maddoc’s feet hit the top floor, he barks, “Get out.”

And the handful of people scramble for their shit and go.

Of course, the chick takes her time slipping on her shoes.

Her eyes hit mine first, then move to Captain, who doesn’t even acknowledge her but continues for the kitchen, where he bends until my ass hits the table and I let go.

He spins around, gripping my chin in his fingers and I stare, waiting for his next move, laughing on the inside at the anger flying my way from the girl.

Captain leans forward, asking with his stare if he can go for it, but before I can give him a sign, Maddoc grips his shoulder and Cap pauses.

He chuckles and steps back.

I glance over my shoulder right as she stomps out the door, and Royce is quick to lock it behind her.

He pulls the sheets from the futons and rolls them up, tossing them in the garbage by the door. “Good as new, RaeRae, come sit with me.” He plops his ass down.

I hop off the table, run down the stairs to grab the blanket off the bed and then back up. I drop beside Royce, tucking the blanket around me.

Royce flips through the channels, deciding on Red Riding Hood.

A few minutes pass and then Maddoc is standing in front of me, a hot cup of coffee in his hands.

I eye him as I slowly reach for it. “Thanks, big man.”

He doesn't say a word, turning around to head back for the kitchen.

“Yo, where’s my hot chocolate?!” Royce teases, jabbing me with his elbow.

Maddoc simply flips him off as he heads back into the kitchen, and not fifteen minutes later he’s announcing breakfast is ready.

Royce doesn’t hesitate to pop up and drags me with him. I move to sit at the cheap wooden table now topped with the fixings for chorizo and egg burritos as he joins them in the tiny kitchen.

I can’t help but track their movements.

One gets the condiments, a different for each, one the drinks, again, different for each and the last has the plates and silverware. It’s like they’ve done this a thousand times over.