“Well, I have the results of the x-ray and thankfully you haven’t broken any of your ribs. This is just a nasty bruise and you should feel much better in a week or so,” Dr Salahan says as Hudson and I sit in her office.

“That’s a relief,” Hudson says. “Is there anything we can do for Louisa to help her recovery?”

“Not particularly. Rest, painkillers and sympathy are pretty much what Louisa needs.” She looks at me and smiles kindly. Probably in her mid-fifties, Dr Salahan has greying brown hair and steel blue eyes and yet, despite the obvious kindness, she’s the kind of woman who doesn’t miss a trick.

“And it looks as though you have a pretty sore lip there,” she says, stating the obvious.

“Uh huh,” I reply. I’ve never been very fond of doctors. Over the years I haven’t had the best interaction with them. Unless I’m sick, I avoid the medical profession like the plague.

“Though fortunately it is a superficial wound and will heal in a couple of days. Mr Freed,” Dr Salahan says, turning to Hudson. “I’d like a moment alone with Louisa, please.”

Hudson looks from Dr Salahan to me and back again.

“Why?”

“In case Louisa would like to speak to me in private.”

“Do you want to talk in private with the doctor?” Hudson asks me.

I shrug. “Not particularly.”

“Then I’ll think I’ll stay,” Hudson says firmly.

“Fair enough,” Dr Salahan says. “But I’m always available if you need me, Louisa.”

“Sure, thanks,” I say, not feeling very thankful at all.

“I’d like to see you in a week’s time, just to check you over and make sure you’re healing. Would that be okay?”

“I guess so…” I say, waiting for her to fill the silence. She considers me with her intelligent eyes and it’s making me feel even more uncomfortable. “Is that everything then? I mean, I appreciate your time, but I’d like to get back home now.” It comes out sounding rude but honestly, I’m getting the distinct impression that Dr Salahan is trying to insinuate that Hudson had something to do with my injuries and it is pissing me off.

“That’s everything, yes.”

I stand, and Hudson gets up too. He holds his hand out to Dr Salahan. “Thank you. Please send the bill direct to our office.”

Hudson leads me out of the surgery and into the waiting car outside. Calum holds the door open for us both. He’s looking particularly attractive this afternoon. Nisha had practically fallen off the kitchen stool earlier when he had walked in the kitchen. I’ve never seen her so tongue-tied. Poor Nisha, I don’t think she knows quite what to do with herself around him.

“Cheers, Cal. We’re going to head back home now.”

“Would you like me to run by the office, pick Bryce and Max up?” Calum asks as he pulls out into the flow of traffic.

“No, they’ve got another meeting scheduled now. They said they’d catch a cab home later.”

“What time do they finish? I can collect them.”

“Cal, it’s Friday night and you’re off duty in an hour. They’re happy to call a cab.”

“Fair enough.”

We settle into the warm leather seats as Cal drives us back home. Home. It’s slightly worrying that I am already calling their place home. I’ve only been there twenty-four hours and already I want to stay forever. I shake those thoughts away. This is my heart talking, not my head. Be sensible, Louisa, I scold myself. One day at a time.

When we get inside, loud music is coming from upstairs. I can hear Nisha singing.

“What is that?” Hudson asks, covering his ears.

“Sounds like someone’s happy,” Calum says with a grin. I catch his eye and his face is serious once more.

“Nish loves to sing. I’ve never had the heart to tell her she sounds terrible. Her enthusiasm is infectious though,” I laugh.

Climbing up the stairs to the lounge, we find Nisha in the kitchen with her back to us cooking, singing and dancing at the same time. I think it’s cute. Hudson looks utterly bemused and Calum is trying hard not to crack a smile.

“Nish, we’re back,” I say, but the music is so loud she doesn’t hear me. “NISHA!” I shout.

She jumps, dropping the spatula she’s holding on the floor. Red sauce splatters across the white tiles.

“Ah, shit!” she says, grabbing a cloth to wipe it up.

Hudson picks up the remote and turns the music down to a more reasonable level whilst Calum helps Nisha mop up the mess.

“You’ve been busy,” Hudson remarks, noticing the kitchen sink is filled with pans and utensils.

“I thought I’d make us all dinner. Lasagne alla Nisha with garlic bread and salad on the side.”

“Where did you get all the ingredients to make it?” Calum asks.

“I went to the supermarket on the High Street, why? I just wanted to say thanks…” Her voice trails off at the look of consternation on Calum’s face.

“I told you not to leave the house.”

“It’s alright, I do know how to lock a front door. Jeez, I thought it’d be nice.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

“I’d rather have accompanied you, that’s all,” Calum says, batting away her question. He exchanges looks with Hudson, who grabs the bottle of wine and corkscrew from the table. Uncorking it, he pours everyone a glass.

“There’s no big deal, Cal likes to be in control, that’s all,” Hudson says, winking at Calum and taking a sip of the wine.

Nisha scoffs. “Well, I don’t like to be controlled,” she says, glaring at Calum across the kitchen island.

Calum raises an eyebrow. “That’s not the impression I get,” he says, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. Nisha’s mouth pops open, then closes again. The tension between them is ridiculous. Talk about lust at first sight.

“Thank you, Nisha, for making us dinner. How long will it be?” Hudson asks.

Nisha drags her eyes away from Calum, grabs a glass of wine and takes a large mouthful. “Another couple of hours, or so. I’ve still got stuff to prep before it goes into the oven.”

“Perfect, Max and Bryce should be home by then,” Hudson says, moving towards the seating area in the front room.

“Do you need any help?” I ask her.

“I’ve got this,” Calum says, stepping forward. He rolls back his sleeves, revealing some very defined forearm muscles. I swear I hear Nisha squeak with excitement. He grabs an onion and starts peeling it. Nisha gives me one of her ‘oh my fucking god’ looks before squeezing past Calum and grabbing a dish from the cupboard. I swallow a laugh, then head over to Hudson and take a seat next to him on the couch.

* * *

Around six, we hear the front door open. I am lying flat out on the sofa, my head in Hudson’s lap as he plays with my hair and chats football with Calum and Nisha, who are sitting opposite us both. Nisha is talking animatedly about her favourite team, which just so happens to be Calum’s too. Hudson is arguing the merits of one player versus another. I have no idea who he is talking about, football really isn’t my idea of fun. Lying here whilst Hudson runs his fingers through my hair, however, most definitely is. His hands are warm, his fingers firm as they massage my scalp. The sensation is simultaneously relaxing and a huge turn on.

“Well, look at you all chilling out, while the real men are out working all day,” Max says as he walks into the room.

“There’s a beer in the fridge,” Hudson says. “Dinner’s in the oven.”

“What the fuck happened? You turned into a domestic goddess all of a sudden, Hud?” Bryce laughs, giving his head a playful shove.

“That’d be Nisha,” Calum says. “She’s the goddess here.”

I catch Nisha’s eye. She’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Just something I threw together to say thanks,” she says.

“Well, it’s appreciated,” Bryce responds, shrugging off his suit jacket. He collapses onto the sofa next to me, picks up my legs and rests them over his lap. I feel the firm warmth of his hand as he absentmindedly slides them up and down my shin. No one in the room seems to notice, or care, that I am being stroked by two incredibly hot men. In the kitchen, Max grabs himself a beer. I watch him as he gets out plates and cutlery. He looks content, happy, and in turn I feel the warmth of his happiness cover me like a blanket. Our eyes meet, and he mouths something. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he just professed his love for me.

A few hours later after saying goodnight to Nisha and Calum, we head up to bed. I stop at my bedroom door, glancing over my shoulder at Max, Bryce and Hudson who are all loitering behind me. It’s kind of cute how they are all trying to remain gentlemanly, even though I can tell they just want to jump my bones. God knows, I want them to, but it might be a bit painful right now.

“Do you want to come in?” I ask. It comes out in a breathy rush.

“Hell, yes,” Max says.

Bryce frowns. “Only if you’re sure. You need to heal.”

“Just to sleep, nothing more,” I say.

“Just to sleep it is then, sweetheart.” Bryce glances at Hudson and Max. “You boys going to be able to do that?” he jokes.

“Get in the damn room,” Hudson responds with a roll of his eyes.

Inside we get undressed. This time it’s Bryce who helps me remove my top. I blush when he picks my pyjamas up. They are the opposite of sexy.

“What the hell are these?” he asks, grinning stupidly as he holds up my fluffy, pink, leopard print top.

“They are the most comfortable pyjamas known to mankind,” I say, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“You do realise, Bryce has a thing for fluffy pink leopards. Top of his list of turn-ons,” Max laughs.

Bryce chucks my top at him. “Shut up, you plum.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Not sexy,” I say, turning an even deeper shade of pink than the top.

“You could wear a paper bag and still be fucking sexy,” Hudson says, his green eyes sparking with lust. I swallow, he is giving me his most droolworthy, come-to-bed eyes. “Besides, there’s no point in wearing those pyjamas, you’ll be way too hot with us three surrounding you.”

“Hud’s right. We’ll soon warm you up,” Max says as he pulls back the covers, climbs into the centre of the bed and sits up against the headboard. He’s bare-chested, but still wearing his boxer shorts.

“Come here, Icy.” He pats the space between his legs. “It might be better for you to sleep a little elevated. I will be your cushion.” I look at his firm chest and ripped abs. He doesn’t look particularly cushion-like. Still, I’m not about to refuse the offer of using Max as a pillow. Climbing onto the bed in my underwear, I settle down between Max’s legs, resting my head against his abdomen. Bryce gets in behind me and Hudson slides in the other side so that he’s facing me.

“Lights out,” he says.

In the dark I feel each of my men reach for me. Max strokes my hair, Hudson takes my hand in his, and Bryce rests his palm against my hip. It takes us all a very long time to fall asleep. The last thoughts that slip through my head before sleep pulls me under is how inextricably happy I feel surrounded by these beautiful men.