Page 9 of Curvy Cabin Fever

ARIA

M organ watches me from across the kitchen with an unreadable gaze.

“You don’t have to stare,” I mutter, shifting under his gaze as I sip my coffee.

His lips twitch. “Yeah, I do.”

I roll my eyes, setting my mug down. “Are you planning on explaining that, or do you just enjoy making me uncomfortable?”

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, all casual confidence. “Just trying to figure you out.”

I arch a brow. “Oh? And what have you come up with so far?”

Morgan hums like he’s considering it, his gaze dipping over me again—not in an obvious way, but enough to make my skin heat. “You’re a little shy when you don’t need to be. You think too much. And you have no idea how good you look right now.”

My stomach tightens, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.” He pushes off the counter and crosses the space between us. Not too close, but close enough that I feel the shift in the air, the weight of his presence. “Tell me something, Aria.”

I swallow. “What?”

“Did you sleep well?” His voice is low, teasing—but there’s something heavier beneath it.

I know exactly what he’s asking.

I meet his eyes, daring myself not to look away. “I slept just fine.”

Morgan smirks. “I’ll bet you did.”

The way he says it—slow, almost knowing—sends heat straight through me.

I exhale, trying to shake off the tension. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope.” He tilts his head, watching me like he’s waiting for me to react. When I don’t, he steps even closer, his voice dropping. “What about before you fell asleep?”

My breath catches.

Morgan watches my reaction, his smirk deepening, like he’s already got his answer.

I huff, looking away as I tuck my hands under the hem of Damien’s shirt. “Is there any bottled water?”

Morgan blinks, caught off guard for half a second before grinning like I just amused the hell out of him. “Yeah, in the fridge,” he says, stepping aside so I can get to it.

I hesitate before moving, still feeling awkward being here—like I shouldn’t be touching anything that isn’t mine. The fridge is stocked, but I don’t want to rummage, so I glance back at Morgan. “Can you grab one for me?”

His smirk softens just a little. He doesn’t comment on my hesitation, just pulls the fridge open and grabs a bottle, twisting the cap off before handing it to me. “Here,” he murmurs, watching me as I take it.

I swallow a sip, using the moment to steady myself. The cool water helps, but not enough.

Morgan leans against the fridge, still watching me. “You know, you don’t have to act like you’re a guest. You’re here now.”

I shift on my feet. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

He scoffs. “Trust me, Aria, you are not in the way.”

There’s something in his tone—something that makes my stomach flip—but I shake it off, taking another sip of water.

Morgan studies me for a second longer before tilting his head. “Tell me the truth. Do you regret it?”

I freeze with the bottle halfway to my lips. “Damien?”

He watches me before nodding, his usual teasing nowhere to be found now.

I lick my lips, setting the bottle down. “No.”

His gaze darkens. “No?” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “No.”

Morgan exhales through his nose, slow and measured, then smirks again—this time, like he knows something I don’t. “That’s good,” he says, voice low, full of something dangerous.

My stomach clenches, heat pooling between my thighs.

Before I can respond, footsteps echo down the hallway. A door opening.

We both glance toward the sound.

Damien’s awake.

Morgan’s eyes stay locked on mine. “Guess we’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

I let out a slow breath, my heart still racing.

What the fuck is going on here?!

Morgan’s smirk barely fades as he takes a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze flicking toward the hallway.

“Well, well. Look who’s up early.”

I glance over my shoulder just as Damien steps into the kitchen, rubbing a hand down his face. His dark hair is a mess, and the low-hanging sweatpants and fitted t-shirt he threw on do absolutely nothing to hide how unfairly built he is.

He stops mid-step when he sees me, his gaze sweeping over my body like he’s remembering exactly what happened last night. My stomach flips, heat curling low.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

Morgan chuckles. “Didn’t think we’d see you before noon.”

Damien ignores him, heading straight for the coffee pot. “I’m starving.”

Morgan grins, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. “Yeah? Guess you worked up an appetite.”

Damien’s lips curve slightly, but his eyes stay locked on me as he lifts his coffee cup. “Something like that.”

The heat in his stare is unmistakable.

God, he’s delicious.

I grip my water bottle a little tighter, feeling the shift in the room. Morgan’s teasing is one thing—he enjoys pushing buttons, getting reactions—but Damien? Damien’s presence alone makes my pulse spike.

Morgan stretches out lazily, watching Damien over the rim of his mug. “Aria already ate, by the way. But don’t worry, I saved you some.”

Damien raises a brow at me. “You ate without me?”

I shrug. “You were still asleep.”

Damien rolls his shoulders, setting his coffee down before moving past me. His fingers graze the small of my back as he reaches for a plate on the counter, the touch barely there, but it sends a spark straight through me.

Morgan catches it, his smirk deepening.

I exhale slowly, pretending not to notice the way my body reacts to the lightest touch from either of them.

“Since when are you up early, anyway?” Morgan asks Damien, watching him dig into his food.

“Since last night was worth getting out of bed for,” Damien answers smoothly, throwing me a look that turns my knees to jelly.

Morgan whistles low. “Damn. Look at you, being all charming.”

Damien grins, but it’s lazy, almost predatory. “I wasn’t talking to you, man.”

I definitely need more water.

Morgan chuckles, shifting his attention back to me. “So, Aria. What’s the plan for the day?”

I blink. “What?”

“You’re stuck with us, so what do you wanna do?” His voice is casual, but there’s something underneath it—something that makes me feel like no answer will be the wrong one.

Damien leans back in his chair, stretching out like he owns the damn place. “We could play cards. Watch a movie.” He glances at me again, his eyes dark. “Or something more interesting.”

Morgan tilts his head, amused. “Like what?”

Damien shrugs. “Guess we’ll see what she’s up for.”

We?!

His gaze flickers down my body, making it painfully clear what kind of interesting he has in mind.

Morgan drums his fingers on the counter, watching me with equal interest. “What do you say, Aria?”

I lick my lips, pulse hammering.

They’re both looking at me like that—like I’m something they plan on keeping entertained all damn day.

I inhale slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. “A movie sounds fine.”

Morgan chuckles. “Fine, huh? That’s the best we get?”

I roll my eyes, standing up. “A movie sounds great . Happy?”

Damien smirks. “Getting there.”

Morgan watches me for a moment before pushing off the counter. As he passes, his fingers graze my hip, his palm sliding just enough to make me gasp.

I whip around, but he’s already walking away. “I’ll pick the movie,” he calls over his shoulder.

Damien follows behind him, but not before trailing his fingers lightly along the curve of my waist, just enough to make my breath hitch.

I stand there, gripping my water bottle like a lifeline, trying to ignore the heat pooling between my thighs.

What the hell did I just sign up for?