“I’m good here,” I reply. “Just enjoying the view.” I make a show of looking him over, my eyes lingering on the bulge between his legs. I’m sore from last night, but I’m also hoping for a final round before he has to leave.

Gray rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. I grab the television remote and tap the power button, making myself right at home. Maybe there are cartoons on. Gray makes me feel like a kid again, so might as well embrace it. When the screen flickers to life, it’s displaying a video game screen. I hit the home button, but nothing happens. I shake the remote, then try hitting it against the counter.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Your remote is broken.”

Gray abandons the stove and comes over to me. He peers at the remote, then hits one button once. A guide listing all the channels appears on the screen. “Beyond repair, obviously,” he drawls.

I hook my ankles behind his waist before he can move away. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.” Rather than break my hold, he moves closer. His hands drift under the T-shirt I’m wearing. His chest vibrates with an approving growl when he realizes it’s all I put on.

I’m lost in a heady haze of him. I don’t hear the door until it’s too late.

“Holy fucking shit.” Emmett’s voice.

Gray’s hands disappear. My knees close. It doesn’t matter. His voice is nearby, and anyone with eyes would know what they just walked in on. Emmett has two of them.

I pull in a deep breath before I turn around. Will he lie to Noah for us? But when I look over my shoulder, I realize that’s not a necessary question. Emmett isn’t the only one who just walked in. Harrison is behind him. Closely followed by my brother.

The only sound is the sizzle of our breakfast and the hum of the television. Following Emmett’s profanity-ridden reaction, no one speaks.

I have no idea what to say. It’s not what it looks like? It’s exactly what it looks like, and everyone here knows it.

“Can I talk to you, Evie?” Noah’s voice is even and calm, but I can hear the anger and betrayal lurking underneath. “Alone.”

I risk a glance at Gray. He’s stoic.

“Um, yeah. Sure.” I slide off the counter. Slowly, so I don’t flash anyone. Once I’m standing, I hesitate. “Where did you want to talk?”

“Outsi…” His voice trails when he fully registers what little I’m wearing. It’s barely appropriate to wear inside, let alone outside.

“You can use my room,” Emmett offers, shattering the increasingly awkward silence and solving our dilemma.