Scarlet POV
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I’m in. But if either of you call me a filthy little ravioli, I’m out.”
Liam snorts his coffee. Zain looks confused.
“Don’t ask,” I say quickly. “t****k trend. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Noted,” Zain says, looking vaguely horrified. “No pasta-based dirty talk.”
“I feel like that should be a universal rule,” Liam adds, wiping his mouth.
Zain smiles then, a soft one. “Good. Then we’re set. We’ll go slow at first, but we’ll be listening closely.”
I nod, still a little breathless from the banter but grounded in the fact that I trust them both. Somehow, even in the middle of jokes about spaghetti-safe words, I know I’m in the right place.
Sitting here a moment longer, I let the words settle in my chest. It should feel overwhelming. It should feel t
