Page 217 of The Obedient Lie

“We didn’t know that!” Bastion protested.

“You had your hand on mychest, Bastion!”

He crossed his arms. “I thought maybe your heart stopped.”

My mouth dropped open. “Do Ilooklike someone who’d let you two idiots kill me by orgasm? Please. That’s not how I’m going out.”

Luca cleared his throat. “...It wouldn’t be the worst headline.”

Bastion shook his head, muttering, “Don’t joke about that.”

I smiled.

Because under all the guilt and chaos, I could see it.

They were scared.

Of hurting me.

Of going too far.

Of finally having something they wanted—me—and immediately thinking they broke it.

So I eased back onto the bed and stretched, ignoring the soreness as best I could.

“Well,” I sighed, looking up at them dramatically, “if I had died, at least I’d have gone out worshipped and overstimulated. Luca’s right—it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out.Beats heartbreak or a car crash.”

That earned a grin from both of them.

“We’re not letting that happen again,” Bastion said, his tone softer now.

“Which part?” I teased. “The overstimulating or the near-death?”

Luca smirked. “Neither. Next time, we wake you up between orgasms. Make sure you’re still breathing.”

I gave him a flat look. “You two are unhinged.”

“Possibly,” Bastion said, grabbing the tea from the side table and handing it to me carefully. “But we’re yours.”

“ThankGod,” I muttered, accepting the tea and curling my fingers around the warm mug. “I was starting to think I’d broken you both.”

They both froze.

I sipped slowly, keeping my expression neutral even though my body ached in about seven different languages.

“I mean it, that explains a lot,” I said, glancing between them. “You’ve been acting like I flatlined. Fussing over me. Whispering when you think I’m asleep.Lucathreatened a hotel staff member over pillow density.”

“They weretrash pillows,” Luca said defensively.

“Trash pillows,” I echoed, deadpan. “Right.”

“Andyou,” I turned to Bastion, “sent away four trays of room service only to cook something yourself in a five-star hotel suite. Becausethat’s normal.”

He didn’t even blink. “The eggs were dry.”

“The eggs were dry,” I repeated under my breath, sipping my tea like I wasn’t surrounded by beautiful, unhinged men with savior complexes.

I tilted my head at them, letting my voice turn mock-casual. “I thought maybe… you know. The fact that you gotEmilia Adamsto kneel for you, tosubmit… shattered your egos into some kind of twin-obsession spiral.”