“Why are you packing a bag?” Matt looked over my shoulder into the backpack I was filling with different kinds of snacks.
“Because,” I said, stuffing some pretzels into the already overloaded bag, “you guys eat and snack like you haven’t touched food in weeks, and even if Dave is paying, he shouldn’t have to cover your overindulgence.”
I could feel Matt’s grin press against my hair as he tried to hide his amusement. His hand slid from the small of my back over the curve of my hip, his touch warm and familiar. My body reacted to it instantly, humming with an odd mix of comfort and heat. It was strange how different each of the guys’ touches felt—how each one stirred a different version of me to the surface.
Matt’s touch always felt grounding somehow, like he reminded me that life could b
