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“Sweet dreams,” she calls after me with a smile in her voice.

It takes quite a while to get to my sweet dreams, because I have a really hard time falling asleep. Even though I try to distract myself by thinking about mundane things, my brain keeps replaying the kisses.

The way Cam’s thumb gently stroked my cheek as his lips pressed mine. How exciting it felt to be so close to his body. The way Wyatt took control so completely. A shiver—the good kind—runs through me at the thought of it.

I’m glad Marissa didn’t persist in asking which kiss was better, because I could never choose.

The longer I lie there trying to fall asleep, the more surreal it all seems. I can’t believe I kissed them, and I’m still not sure what came over me. I know I shouldn’t have done it, because it’s only going to make it harder to stop thinking about them.

Sure, I was curious, and maybe I got caught up in the excitement of the evening. When Cam made the suggestion, it seemed like the perfect opportunity, and I can’t bring myself to regret it. In fact, if I had any regrets, it’s that both kisses were too short.

Squeezing my pillow to fluff it, I roll over onto my other side. It’s impossible to relax with the kind of wild excitement that’s running through my veins right now. I haven’t felt this way since … well, maybe ever. Maybe Ana is right that I’m like a virgin again, because I feel like I just experienced my first kiss—times two.

* * *

As promised, Wyatt and Cam arrive at my front door the next morning shortly after nine with a bag full of supplies.

“We know you’re busy working and we don’t want to disturb you, but we’ll make sure no more smelly vandals can get into your back yard,” Wyatt says.

I feel closer to them after the kisses, like I know them better somehow, but I also suddenly feel shy.

Those kisses were potent. So much better than how it felt to kiss them in that weird dream about the marshmallows, and now that I’m face-to-face with them this morning, I can’t stop thinking about kissing them again.

“Do you have someone who cuts your lawn?” Wyatt asks.

“Marissa and I do it, though neither of us particularly enjoys it, so we tend to let it get a little long.”

“So you have a mower?” When I nod, he says, “We’ll take care of it.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to do it.”

“Don’t you have to work, too?”

Cam shrugs this off. “I can record some footage while we cut the grass, so we can be working and trimming the yawn at the same time.”

It sounds ridiculous, but I know their followers will love watching them cut grass. In fact, I’m going to have a hard time not watching them, especially since I just know they’re going to have their shirts off while they do it.

“Will the noise from the lawnmower disturb your work?” Wyatt asks.

“I think it’ll be okay, but really, you don’t need to do that.”

“You work hard,” Cam says. “What’s wrong with letting someone help you once in a while?”

“Okay, but I can pay you.”

“No, you can’t. We’re just being neighborly.” Cam nods toward my laptop, sitting open on the dining table. “You’d better get back to work.”

So I do, though I’m very distracted by the thought of the men working in my yard, and I lose all train of thought when either of them passes by the back door.

It’s like a live-action Battle Duel Boys reel, all for my own personal viewing, but then I remember that they’re recording footage to post for all their followers. The jealousy that accompanies this thought isn’t rational.

After about an hour, Wyatt knocks on the back door. “Do you have time to come outside so we can show you the places we patched the fence?”

They lead me to the side of the house where the skunk exited, and then also around to the other side, where they found another small hole.

“Your yard is secure now,” Wyatt says with a satisfied grin.