Page 139 of First Shift

He rocked his hand back and forth, humming. “About a lot of things, but not this.”

I stared at him for a beat, dubious. “You’re not panicking.” If anything, he looked eerily calm.

He shrugged casually. “I’m done hiding, Mikey. I want everyone to know how much I love you.”

This was …

How did …

Could I …

“Holy shit,” I breathed out, my body going limp like a marionette with its strings cut. I melted back against the bed rails, unable to hold myself up.

“Wait. Why are you panicking?”

He tugged me forward by the wrists, my dead weight sending him sprawling onto his back. I landed on top of him with an oof. He smiled up at me, his gaze soft and tender as he brushed a curl from my forehead. “Breathe, M.”

“I am breathing.”

“Debatable.”

I made a show of pulling in a huge gulp of air, blowing it right back into his face.

Then I stared down at him in wonder. “We’re doing this? For real?”

“It looks like it.”

“Oh my god.” I buried my face in the crook of his neck and breathed him in. Who needed oxygen when I had his skin?

A minute passed before Cally smacked my ass. “As much as I love it when you lie on top of me, it’s cold and your rug is scratchy as fuck. Can we get back into bed now, please?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah.” I pushed up off him, shed my clothes, and dived back under the covers. Sliding to the far side of the bed, I patted the empty space next to me. “Come tell me your plan.”

“It’s late, Mikey.” He groaned, tackling me into the mattress and pulling the duvet up over our heads, creating a quiet cocoon. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asked, pressing a sleepy kiss to my lips.

“Tomorrow,” I agreed, rolling onto my side and settling my head on his chest, right over his heart.

Cally was asleep less than two minutes later, but there was zero chance I was getting a single second of sleep tonight.

THIRTY-FOUR

MIKEY

A loud gasp and the sound of something crashing to the floor jarred me awake. I sat bolt upright, blinking against the light.

My eyes flew between Cally, sprawled out on his stomach beside me, one leg peeking out from under the blanket exposing his boxer-clad ass, and my mom down on her knees, scrambling to shove wayward laundry into a basket.

“I’m sorry!” she spluttered, her voice high and panicked, her free hand shielding her eyes. “I was just coming to collect the sheets. I didn’t know you boys were still here.” She righted herself, propping the basket on her hip. “Why are you still here?”

Cally rolled onto his back with a sleepy murmur, scratching near a dark hickey—individual teethmarks on full display—I didn’t remember leaving.

I stared at it for a second, admiringly. That was a good one.

She jerked her gaze away, her cheeks flushing scarlet.

Shit. Was there a worse possible way for a mom to find out her adult son was sleeping with his teammate?

“What time is it?” I croaked, glancing around to locate my stupid phone.