I wake up to a cold breeze tickling my naked back. The front of me is warm, because I’m pressed up against a soft body. I lift my head and brush the long dark hair from my face.

“Dude, what the fuck?” a female voice says from the doorway. I look up to find my brother Ryan and Wren’s sister Lark standing in the doorway. Ryan leans casually against the doorjamb, his arms crossed in front of him as he smirks at me.

Wren jerks from her sleep with a start. She reaches behind her and pats my hip. Then she rolls onto her stomach so she can look at me. “This can’t end well,” she says quietly. Then she buries her face in her pillow and groans. Her hair is a snarl of tangles around her face, and she’s never been more beautiful.

“Get out,” I say to Ryan in sign language as I speak out loud. “Take your wife with you.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he replies. He continues to smirk at me from the doorway.

“You have until I count to five, and then I’m coming out from under the covers. And I might not have underwear on. I can’t remember.”

Before I can get to two, Lark grabs Ryan and drags him from the room. The door slams behind them.

“Last time I checked, you were wearing underwear,” Wren mumbles from against her pillow. Her face is creased from the sheets, and she squeezes her eyes tightly closed.

“I know,” I reply. I brush her hair back from her face. “I just wanted them to go away.”

“Do you remember what happened last night?” she asks. She rolls onto her back, and I immediately note that she’s not wearing a bra. I inch my hips back just a bit so she won’t realize how that affects me.

“I had a sleepover with my BFF, I think.” I scrub my nose with my hand, trying to wake up.

She snorts. “You got stinking drunk with Henry, and then you fell asleep in my bed.”

“Neither version of the events sounds very romantic.”

She lifts her head and glares at me. “Were you going for romance at all?”

“Maybe a little.”

She shoves my shoulder. “You can’t romance your BFF. It doesn’t work like that.”

Someone should tell that to my dick, because he’s all about some romance. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I roll to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Wren’s fingers tickle my lower back. “Do that some more. It feels good.” I lean toward her hand.

She smiles and her fingers play across my skin. And I can’t think of anything except how good it feels waking up with her and how I want to do it every day.

A heavy knock sounds on the door. “Are you decent?” Lark calls out.

“Not even close!” I yell back.

Wren giggles into her pillow. “We had better get dressed. They’re not going to go away.”

I stand up and shake my jeans out of the pile they’re in on the floor, and then tug my shirt over my head. It settles around my waist and I watch Wren lick her lips as she eyes the trail of hair that leads below my waistband.

“BFFs don’t lick their lips at one another.”

She buries her face in her pillow. “I did no such thing,” she murmurs.

Oh, she did. And I liked it. I want her to do it more. “You sending me out to face them alone?”

She nods. “I need a shower. And to brush my teeth.”

“Do you want me to go home?”

She quickly lifts her head. “Don’t you dare. It’s your fault they’re here. Go entertain them while I get ready.”

I hook my shoes with my fingers and carry them to the door. But at the last minute, I turn back and go to her. I lean down and kiss her temple, and she lets out a happy little noise that’s somewhere between a titter and a sigh. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

“Don’t mess up the bestie-dom, Shepherd!” she cries.

I laugh as I go out the door.

Lark and Ryan are in the kitchen, arguing with their hands. I stand and watch them for a minute.

“There!” Ryan says. “Now you can go in.”

“I could have gone in five minutes ago!” she shouts at him, her hands flying wildly.

“They were in bed, Lark! And dickhead was probably naked!” He jerks a thumb toward me.

“Why am I a dickhead?” I ask.

Lark rolls her eyes and goes into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

“Now tell me how the fuck that happened,” Ryan demands.

I go to the fridge and get a bottle of water. My head is pounding and Ryan isn’t making it better. “How what happened? And how did you get in?”

“Lark used her key. And avoidance is not a pretty color on you.” He glares at me. “How did you end up in bed with Wren?”

“Henry.” I just give him the one word.

His brow arches. “Henry got you laid?”

I throw my now-empty bottle at him and it bounces off his chest. “Nothing happened. I was drinking with Henry and I couldn’t drive home. That’s all.”

He grins. “Henry meddled. The man is a genius. Beneath that shiny bald head lies the brain of a true intellectual.”

“Again, nothing happened.”

“Yet.” He smiles. But then he suddenly sobers. “You want something to happen, right?”

I want a lot of things to happen. “Maybe.”