Twins, My Two Husbands

They looked ridiculous—two huge guys suddenly silent.

I almost laughed.

“It's too late to kick you out now. Sleep here.”

Caleb's eyes lit up. “Really? I can stay?”

Ethan's voice calmed: “Thanks, baby. You're the best.”

“But tomorrow morning? Both of you leave. I don't want this circus.”

I turned toward my bedroom.

Ethan lagged behind.

“No following. Sleep on the floor.” I glared.

“But… two months without you.” Ethan sounded pitiful.

“Did I stop you? Or were you ‘busy'?”

“My fault. Won't happen again.”

“Yeah, ‘again' is debatable.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

I shut the door and locked it.

“Floor's yours. Blankets in the closet—you know where.”

“Got it.” His voice dropped. “Baby, I screwed up. Shouldn't have let him sub in. I was slammed—I didn't mean to ignore you.”

“I regret it. I let the wolf in.” Ethan sounded sincere.

I scoffed. “No apology needed.”

“Baby?”

“I don't care who I texted or saw. You look the same.”

He was quiet a moment. Then: “Good night, baby.”

That look—soft, but something darker underneath. Almost obsessive.

Terrifying.

I'd hooked up with two psychopaths.

“Bunch of lunatics.”