I chuckle, and my hand is sweaty when I grab hers. I wait for her reaction—whether she’ll tug away, try to kiss me again, or ask about the kiss. With a sigh, she squeezes my hand, and I lead her back into the house, where everyone, except Georgia and Archer, are in the living room. Drinks are in their hands, and some trivia show is playing on the TV, all of them screaming answers at the contestant.

“We thought you guys had gotten lost out there,” Finn says, falling down on the couch next to Grace.

“Prepare to have mosquito bites out the ass,” Lola comments, shuddering as she peers back at us from the front of the couch. “Those things are brutal around here.”

Finn slides his hands together. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m exhausted. The birthday boy has retired to his bedroom, and that means we can crash at any time.” He does a once-over of the room.

I peer over at Cassidy and drop her hand. “You staying the night?”

A sleepover was Georgia’s plan. It’s a four-bedroom, providing plenty of room for everyone. Archer and I are crashing in our bedrooms, which leaves the master and guest bedroom.

Cassidy nods. “Sure am.”

“What are the sleeping arrangements?” I ask everyone.

Lola yawns, stretching out her arms. “Grace and I are crashing in the master.” She shoots a glance at Cassidy. “We can squeeze your tiny butt in there if you want?”

Cassidy laughs. “That might be a little too uncomfortable. I’ll take the couch. No biggie.”

“Eh, I’m taking the couch,” Finn says. “Silas and I flipped for the guest room, and I lost.”

“You can have my bed, Cassidy,” Silas offers. “I’ll crash on the floor.” He winks at her, sending a streak of jealousy through my blood.

“Nah, take my bed,” I interrupt. “It’s more comfortable than the guest bed, and I’ll crash on the floor.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Cassidy replies, biting into her lower lip—a lip that I now know the taste of.

For someone who’s talked plenty of shit about being in my bed, she sure seems shy about it now.

“The floor is comfortable,” I add. “I like sleeping on it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You are such a liar.”

“Punish me for my lying by taking my bed then.” I smile. “You know I’m the perfect gentleman.”

“Okay,” she dramatically groans. “But don’t say it’s my fault when you’re sore from sleeping on the floor.”

Chapter Ten

Cassidy

“Oh my God, you’re such a bullshitter,” I say, laughing when Lincoln drops down to pull out a bed from the couch in his bedroom.

He smirks. “What?”

“You were acting like such a gentleman, offering to give me your bed and sleep on the floor, when in actuality, you have a damn pullout bed.”