Night two arrived like a held breath finally released.
The cabin had been quiet all day—too quiet.
No one pushed.
No one teased.
They let the tension build on its own, let every glance, every brush of fingers, every time one of them passed close enough to smell his skin wind me tighter and tighter.
Dinner was barely touched.
After the plates were cleared, Matthew stood.
He didn’t say anything—just extended his hand.
I took it.
The others followed without a word.
We moved to the master bedroom—biggest room in the lodge, king bed made up with fresh flannel sheets, fire already roaring in the stone hearth, low lamp on the nightstand casting warm amber across the walls.
They closed the door.
Locked it.
Matthew turned to me.
“You still sure?” he asked, voice low, rough.
I looked
