I wake up momentarily disorientated. It only takes one look around the room, and a look at the shirt on my chest for last night's event to come rushing in. I groan both at my actions and at the raging ache pounding in my head. I am beyond grateful that their guest-bedroom has an en-suite bathroom. I'm the sole to witness my walk of shame. I would not have recovered had they witnessed my walk to the bathroom with dry cum in my pants. One look at my cowered shoulders and they would have read me like the unintentional open book I am.

       I wash myself quickly, heart racing as if afraid they'll walk in and catch me in the act. I tear their wretched clothes off and hide them away in my purse before pulling on my dress from last night. They're not getting their clothes back until I do multiple loads of laundry and sufficiently get rid of the smell of my arousal.

      There was no reason to panic like this over some friendly flirting. And there was no reason they would ever have to learn about my self-indulgent pleasure incident. Still with the quickness I'm moving it's no wonder I'm getting dizzy. I clutch the sink as my head spins, and curse when my sensor dings with a low blood sugar warning.

      For the most part my diabetes is well controlled, but the occasional night of drinking never fails to drop my sugar levels. I usually anticipate these post drunken nights hypoglycemic events. But today I've got no emergency snacks with me, because staying the night was not the thing sober me had planned.

       Though I know the guys wouldn't bat an eye at me rooting through their cupboards, I've always struggled with the just help yourself. And so, I begrudgingly make way for one of their bedrooms. I walk aimlessly before finding a closed door that I presume to be a room. The only reason I don't stall is my fear of leaving their home in a stretcher. I knock on the door and groan when there's no answer. It's only 8am, they're probably both asleep. I knock a little louder. Still no answer, but the moan I hear through the door confirms my belief that this is one of their rooms. If I'm about to walk in on one of their wet-dreams, I pray it's Casper, because I don't think Lawson and I would survive another encounter of the such.

      Desperate times call for desperate measures. With one hand covering my eyes, I use the other to open the door. "I'm so sorry." I already apologize, fumbling blindly for the bed. I'll shake him awake if I have too. I speak loudly in hopes to wake him up. I conclude that I'm successful by the sharp intake of breath and rustling.

       "I don't mean to intrude," I start again. "But my sugar's low and I desperately need a snack before I pass out. I couldn't find it in myself to go through your kitchen." Instead, I thought it would be a good idea to enter your bedroom uninvited. I groan at my idiocy.

      "Don't worry about it." Casper. I sigh with relief. "I've got snacks in the closet."

      I still haven't removed my hand, too afraid to face more temptation. I hear some more rustling before he approaches me.

      "Take your pick," Casper says.

      Only then do I uncover my eyes. Casper is standing in front of me with a basket of treats. I make a grab for the fruit punch juice box and box of crackers with a sigh of relief.

      "How about you take a seat?" He grips my elbow and pushes me lightly until my knees hit the back of a chair.

      I smirk at the concern in his tone and dig in.

      To distract myself from his bed-hair and delicious pecks, I try to start a conversation. "Do you make a habit of keeping snacks in your bedroom?"

      "Only since an old friend almost passed out on me at my thirteenth birthday party."

      I stifle my gasp of surprise, chest warming as it remembers the boy who was so caring despite all his jokes.

      Though my heart is still pounding, for reasons I suspect have nothing to do with my blood sugar, my vision is starting to return. I finally get a good look at my savior. I'm sitting in his corner chair, sipping a juice box while this god-like man stands in front of me. He's shirtless, and a dribble of juice runs down my chin as I lose focus. His chest is a work of art. My eyes trace his flushed skin from the dip of his throat, down to his bare chest and firm muscles. A flushed Casper? Weird.

      I have no time to question his sudden timidness, my gaze drops below his waistline, and the straw completely misses my mouth as my lips part in shock. Oh god. Boner. I so caught him amid a wet dream. He was clearly in a rush to make himself somewhat decent because the pants he's wearing hang low, and the button is still undone.

      As if I haven't already made enough of a fool of myself, I almost spit the juice out when I realize that he's wearing Lawson's jean from last night. Lord knows that I would remember them, considering the hours they spent captivated in my gaze.

      Why would he be wearing Lawson's pants?

      "Why—" As if thinking his name is enough for my brain to search him out, my eyes regretfully leave Casper's body and land on the bed in the middle of the room. My words die in my throat as I find one side of the bed empty, Casper's I assume from the rumpled blankets, and the other occupied by Lawson. A presumedly naked Lawson if his bare torso and obvious tent under the blanket, are anything to go by.

       I recoil in my chair, crazy eyes flipping between Casper and Lawson. Lawson hides his face in his hands, while Casper looks sheepish. Casper sheepish! Oh god, suddenly his wild hair and flushed skin makes sense. Lawson is in no better shape, hair equally sticking out wildly and lips swollen. My imagination runs wild, specifically starring Lawson's lips and Casper's dick.

      I scramble to my feet, blinking up at Casper with confusion.

      "Problem?" he questions, lips twitching as some of his nonchalance returns.

       Of course, I don't have a problem with them being together. Am I shocked? Yes. Does it make sense? Also, yes. Do I feel like a complete idiot? YES. God, I masturbated to the thought of the both of them. Considering they've been living together for three years and clearly share this room, by the variety of items strewed everywhere, I think it's safe to assume they're in a committed relationship. I feel like I've dirtied the beautiful thing that probably took them a long time to achieve.

      "Nope. No problem," I finally answer, clumsily reaching for the door. "I'll leave you to it." Before they can stop me, I make my exit.

      I finish my snack in the safety of the living room, and will away any thoughts of what was happening in that room before I walked in.

      "I'm sorry you walked in on that," Casper looks sheepish again as he joins me. His discomfort makes me sad. Lawson probably won't even be coming out.

      "You don't have to apologize, it's my fault. I'm actually really happy for the two of you." Once the shock faded, I realized that I was happy. They deserve each other. Happy, although disappointed. Disappointed and confused because I could have sworn that they were flirting last night. I groan and clutch my head. Trying to make sense of this shit was not a good idea considering the hangover. "I've got to get going, but I'd love to hear more about your relationship, someday." I truly mean that.

      Casper grins. "We'd like that too... Lawson's mom is hosting a 50th birthday party for his dad in a few days. We'd like you to come with us if you're down. Our relationship is no secret, so you wouldn't have to pretend to not know. We've been out, for a while."

     I nod with relief.

     "Glad you can tell, Ivy?" Casper smirks. "A secret shared with one of you is a secret shared with the two of you."

      "Shut up," I laugh, although he's not entirely wrong.

      "I'll let you think about the party. I'll text you more information later, but everyone would love to see you."

      "And Lawson is really okay with that? Something tells me that he'd rather avoid me."

      Casper chuckles. "You've got him a little flustered and he's fighting a raging hangover. The party was his idea, he's just too embarrassed to face you today."

      "Because of this morning?"

      Casper shakes his head. "Not the way he wanted to tell you, but he's drawing a blank on the latter part of the evening and he's convinced he did something stupid."

      I lift a brow at him. "Did you by chance lead him to believe that he did something of the such?"

      The mischievous sparkle in his eyes is all I need to know. I snort. "Was the blow job a mean of getting information?" I almost gasp in surprise at my own words. Probably a little too soon to be so blunt.

      "Do you think I'm so easily bought?"

      He tugs my ponytail to oppose my uncertain look. "He actually enjoys sucking my dick, thank you very much."

      I grumble at the thought. Nope. Nope. Powering my brain off until I'm out of their home.

     "Well... Thanks for last night. See you soon."

      Casper laughs as if he can read through my discomfort. As if he's aware of my dirty thoughts, and rather than feel disgust, he's pleased. I'm so curious about the dynamic of their relationship that I know I'll end up accepting the invitation to the party. No matter how bad of an idea I think it is, I'll be there.

       It would be hell, but I might as well get used to the feeling because in the fiery pits rested my destiny. The thoughts I'm having are anything but holy. The new knowledge of their relationship is only firing up my fantasies. By the time I get home, I have to take a cold shower. I force my head under the cold water, hoping it'll wash away thoughts of Casper and Lawson bickering and ending the fight with a kiss. Lawson on his knees in front of Casper. Casper gagged and restrained as Lawson teases him. Both their faces slack and thrown back with pleasure. And the worst of all: Casper and Lawson, naked, rolling around in bed with my equally naked body squished between theirs.