Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,129

so far, it’s working. It’s been the best of both worlds. I get dicked whenever the fuck I want and don’t have to worry about all the bullshit that comes along with having a boyfriend.”

“So … no dates?” he questions. “No labels?”

I shake my head. “I’m not a labels kind of girl, and I mean, I’m not going to say no to a date if you want to take me on one, but what I meant by all the bullshit that comes along with it, is that I don’t have to deal with jealous guys fighting over me because I’m both of theirs … and well, yours now too. There are no secrets. Everything is out in the open, and like I said to King and Cruz, it won’t work if we’re not honest with one another.”

“I agree,” he says. “I’m not really one of those guys who can handle a chick hanging off me all the time, not that you’re one of those girls, but maybe sharing is exactly what I need.”

“First off, I’m not one of those girls who can put up with a guy constantly nagging for my attention all the time, so let’s just make sure you’re not one of them,” I tease. “And secondly, who the fuck wouldn’t want me hanging off them all day long? I know I would.”

“Fuck me,” he grumbles under his breath. “Your arrogance knows no bounds. You’re lucky you’re so fucking hot, otherwise I might have left you at that tattoo parlor to face the firing squad.”

“Bullshit, you would have been worried that I’d fuck them too and your alpha, overprotective bullshit would have come out to play.”

Grayson narrows his eyes more than ready to throw down with me, but instead, he grabs me around the waist and hoists me up onto his lap. “Say it to my face, Ellie.”

I grin and just as my lips crush down against his, the front door swings open and two broody assholes come storming right in as though they own the place. My head snaps up and I grin back at them as they come striding into my living room. “How was Ember?” I ask, my desperation to know that she doesn’t hate me pulsing rapidly through my body.

“She’s alright,” Cruz says. “She went straight home. We watched her for a while, but I don’t think she’s going anywhere. At least, not tonight. She was fucking pissed with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who orders the next hit on your ass.”

I groan, hating the thought. “She probably just needs some time,” I tell them, hoping to god that she can see this from my point of view. “She’ll come around. She’s hurting.”

King nods. “Probably. Where’s Carver?” he asks as he eyes me straddled over Grayson’s lap, my face dangerously close to his.

I scoff. “Probably licking his wounds and nursing his ego.”

“Huh?” Cruz says, dropping down in the seat I was in only two seconds ago. He meets my stare with a narrowed, suspicious gaze. “What did you do to him this time?”

“What?” I gasp. “I’m offended. I’m nothing but an angel. I didn’t do a thing.”

Grayson laughs and rests his hands against my waist, curling one of them right around and holding me close. “The dickhead wanted to play nice and asked her if he could escort her to the Ball next weekend.”

“Ahh, fuck,” King laughs, flopping back into his seat with an amused smirk pulling at his lips. He looks at me, his eyes sparkling like the most beautiful set of diamonds. “Let me guess, you fucking played with him.”

I give King the most innocent smile I can possibly come up with. “I mean, would I do that? I was a perfect lady.”

“Yeah, you fucked with his head,” Cruz laughs. “The poor bastard. How’d he take it?”

I bite down on my lip, more than ready to keep those details to myself, and instantly regret that I’d just finished telling Grayson all about it. “The fucker just walked out of here with his tail between his legs. She told him that she’d go with him, only because he seemed so desperate to take her.”

Cruz and King double over in laughter which only makes Grayson do the same. Despite already having heard the story, nothing but guilt pours through me. These guys have been friends for years so I’m sure they’ve seen more than their fair share of teasing, but there’s just something about Carver, and I hate the thought