Page 41 of Pucking Tangled
FORTY
Owen
He hadn’t meant to be the last.
He wasn’t waiting for Mia to ask for him.
But perhaps in some way it was what he really needed.
Something sacred had passed through them today.
As they lay trying to catch their breath, Owen soaked in everything around him.
Mia on her side, still facing him. Waylon at her back, running his hand up and down her side.
Luca sitting up beside Waylon and watching Mia with wonder in his eyes.
Casey was at the foot of the bed, one leg draped over his, the other resting on Mia’s shin like he was a puppy.
Owen smiled at the innocence of it.
He saw the scattered clothes, the mess of pillows and blankets they hadn’t yet bothered to fix.
This wasn’t just sex.
This was belonging.
They asked so much of her from the start .
And she had given herself back to them—freely, completely.
He wanted to give something back too. Something more than touch. Something steadier than a kiss.
So he held her. Breathed her in. Let the quiet stretch.
A minute later, Casey shifted, murmured something half-sleeping and half-embarrassed. “Are we dead? I feel like we died.”
Mia laughed.
Luca tossed a pillow at Casey’s head.
Casey yelped. “Ow.”
“Nope. Still alive,” Luca chuckled.
“I need to pee,” Mia whispered,
They all laughed and fumbled to let her go.
Four sets of eyes stared at her ass as she walked into the ensuite.
Casey sat up and nudged Owen’s leg. “All five of us can fit in that bathtub, you know.”
He rolled his eyes but smiled, crawling out of bed. “Then I guess I better let the water warm up.”
“Good, I need a good soak. Pretty sure I pulled something.” Waylon stretched like a cat.
Luca snorted. “Yeah. Your ego.”
It was a tight squeeze, four giant hockey players in a bathtub with Mia was surely a sight to be seen.
But they made the most of it.
Soft touches.
Whispered confessions.
Tender caresses.
They relaxed in the quiet until the water cooled and Mia’s stomach grumbled.
For the first time since the story had broken. Since the world had turned ugly over what they shared, Owen believed they were going to be okay.
Waylon climbed out of the tub first, drying off before pulling his clothes back on and heading downstairs.
When they joined him, he’d already ordered Chinese food, cracked open a beer for the four of them and poured a glass of wine for Mia.
She practically sleep walked her way to the couch, collapsing between Casey and Luca.
Before they knew it, Waylon was at the door, taking several large bags from the delivery driver and slapping a hefty tip in the young boy’s palm before he thanked him and kicked the door closed with his heel.
“Dinner’s here. Don’t all cheer at once.”
Mia groaned softly from the couch, her legs flopped over Luca’s lap. “Please tell me you got dumplings.”
“I got everything ,” Waylon said, grinning. “And then doubled it.”
“You’re a menace,” Casey muttered, already unfolding off the couch to help him unload the bags.
“I’m a hero ,” Waylon corrected.
He leaned against the wall between the kitchen and living room and just watched. There was a rhythm to them now. An ease.
Casey grabbing plates.
Luca already setting out napkins.
Waylon opened every takeout container like he was presenting sacred offerings.
And Mia—Mia just sat there in the middle of it all, hair damp, face clean, wrapped in Owen’s oversized sweatshirt that swallowed her whole.
She looked so small in it.
And completely at home .
Owen moved to sit beside her, nudging her knee with his. “You eating?”
“If someone feeds me.”
“I’ve got you,” Luca said before Owen could move, lifting a container of lo mein. “You want this?”
Mia smiled sleepily. “Feed me and I’ll love you forever.”
Waylon huffed. “I swear to god, if noodles are all it takes…”
She laughed at him. “Noodles and a thorough fucking every once in awhile.”
“Jesus Christ, Mia,” Waylon sputtered.
“You started it.”
They ate cross-legged on the floor around the coffee table like broke college kids.
Casey picked all the onions out of Mia’s fried rice and sneakily added extra crab rangoon to her plate. Waylon offered her a bite of his sesame chicken, then pouted dramatically when she took the biggest piece.
Owen kept her drink topped off and Luca made sure she never had to lift a finger unless she wanted to.
“Still good?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
She turned her head, and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “So good.”
Her voice was quiet. Full. Content in a way that made his chest ache.
They didn’t talk about what had happened earlier. Not yet. No debrief. No analysis. It wasn’t time.
For now, there was orange chicken and beef and broccoli and an argument about whether Mia could beat Waylon at Mario Kart (she could).
There was peace.
There was home.
They weren’t just figuring this out anymore.
They were living it.
As the day turned into night, the guys rounded up blankets and pillows again.
Built a makeshift nest for all of them in the middle of the living room floor.
“Do they sell beds bigger than a king size?” Waylon asked.
“Google it,” Luca retorted.
So he did. “Oh shit. They actually make something called a family bed. Says it can fit up to five comfortably.”
“Order it.” Owen nodded in approval.
“It’s twelve feet wide by six and a half feet long,” Waylon continued.
“Not enough room for Skeeter too,” Mia said, yawning.
As if proving a point, the dog stretched out right next to Mia and looked at the guys as if he was daring them to tell him to move.
“Listen, fur ball, she’s ours, too.” Waylon tried to squeeze in.
“Skeeter, move,” Casey said with a chuckle.
The dog got up with a huff and moved down near her feet.
“You’re so mean,” Mia glared at both of them playfully.
Everyone found their place and got comfortable, each of them touching Mia, anchoring themselves to her as they drifted off to sleep.