“Get your arses out of bed, you lazy sods.” The covers were ripped away, leaving Sam groaning. Beside him, Tristan sat bolt upright and grabbed the covers to his chest. Sam peeled open his eyes and had to smile at Tristan’s shock. It wasn’t even as though they were naked. Both wore rather respectable night shirts although Sam’s was rucked up, giving Gareth a bit of an eyeful. He tugged it down.
“I’m injured. You should never shock an injured man, particularly if he has a head injury. You could do irreparable damage.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What time is it?”
“Do you mind?” Tristan said, with centuries of aristocratic breeding oozing from every outraged pore of his body, despite the fact that his fair hair was sticking up at all angles and his eyes were clogged with sleep.
“Well,
