Page 33

Merci

My phone buzzes for the fifteenth time in five minutes. If it's another picture from Raiyne showing off his Mad Hatter costume for the Obsidian Rabbit's Wonderland event in Los Angeles, I swear I'm going to block his ass.

While I don't regret leaving that life behind, there's still a tiny part of me that misses the events. The artistry, the costumes, the rush of performing—though definitely not the other stuff.

I glance at the TV where some random Real Housewives episode plays in the background. With Eli visiting Alexei in New Jersey, the dorm room feels too quiet. Not even watching these bitches throw wine at each other can distract me while waiting for Zach to come back with bagels and coffee.

But when I check my phone, I don't recognize the number. My nose scrunches as I stare at the notifications blowing up my screen .

Who the actual fuck thinks it's okay to spam me on a Saturday morning?

Unlocking it, I nearly choke on my own saliva.

Text: SURPRISE BITCH!

Eli: Viktor! Be nice.

Text: I’m ALWAYS nice.

Text: That’s why I’m finally letting him join our little group chat, Bottoms Up.

Fuck me sideways. Better add his number to my contacts just in case I need a restraining order later. Can’t block him because the psychotic fuck would probably just get a burner phone to annoy me.

Me: Someone want to explain what’s happening?

Text: Welcome to the dark side.

Text: We have lube and make questionable life choices.

Me: Who else is here?

Eli: Jackson made the lube comment and the other one is Killian.

Great, more numbers to add. Looks like I’ve been adopted into whatever this group chat is whether I like it or not.

Me: Hold up. What kind of group chat is this exactly?

Viktor: Only the most ELITE chat where bottoms unite!

Me: So, why are both Killian and Jackson here?

Killian: We’re vers.

Viktor: Only one was supposed to join, but Feisty Mouse added both.

Eli: What can I say? I’m a rebel.

I snort. Behind that innocent face hides a devious little shit. A few days ago he begged Raiyne and I to teach him how to twerk, wanting to film it and torture Alexei with the video since his boyfriend pissed him off. Though half the time he was whining about his uncooperative ass.

Then again, knowing how much Eli loves being spanked, maybe that video was less about revenge and more about getting the punishment he wants. Not that I'm judging—my ass is just as fond of Zach's palm.

Viktor: So . . . how’s that sex swing treating you, Merci?

My entire body freezes. Of fucking course this psychotic asshole would know about that.

Me: Listen here you insufferable fungal infection.

Viktor: Who do you think helped install it? You’re welcome.

Me: I’m getting a restraining order.

The main door of the dorm suite opens and closes. Probably Zach. Thank god because I’m starving. A few seconds later, he pushes the curtain aside and steps into my room with coffee and a bag from the campus bagel shop.

Yeah, so there's this whole curtain situation happening. The sheer fabric lets me peek through—total safety blanket move—but hey, it's progress or whatever. Better than an actual door, which is still a hard fucking no. Can't wait to dig into that trauma next week in therapy . . . said absolutely no one ever.

Zach quirks an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"

I thrust my phone at him. "Your fungus friend added me to some group chat."

Zach actually groans. "He didn't."

"Oh, he did. And seriously? You asked Viktor of all people to help you set up the swing?"

“I . . . needed help.” He sits on the bed, then takes a bagel from the bag and hands it to me, avoiding eye contact.

Sometimes I forget about his limitations. I let out a deep breath and take the bagel. “You could’ve asked Jackson.”

He looks up, eyes narrowing slightly. “Reed can’t keep his mouth shut either.”

As we cuddle up on the bed and eat, my phone buzzes again. I open the screen and read the new barrage of texts.

Viktor: Here’s the house rules

1. NO SEXTING (looking at you Jackson/Killian)

2. All tea must be spilled IMMEDIATELY

3. What happens in Bottoms Up stays in Bottoms Up

4. Pics or it didn’t happen

I grin as messages from Killian and Jackson flood my phone while taking a bite of my bagel, nearly choking when they start arguing about a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. These chaotic disasters with their zero boundaries and questionable morals—they're my people now.

Zach pulls me against his side, his lips brushing my temple. "Happy?"

"Yeah." After tossing the phone onto the bed, tired of their antics, I lean up and kiss Zach on the cheek. "I really am. About everything."

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