Royal Mess (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 3)

I frowned. “Then I should have woken up on the couch.”

“So what happened when you woke up and he was in your bed?”

I took a sip of my coffee. “Well, I asked him what the hell he was doing in my bed.”

“What did he say?”

I sighed. “He told me I wouldn’t let him go and he must have fallen asleep before I let him go.”

Bristol’s jaw dropped. “Say what? Were you sleepwalking or something?”

I didn’t have a damn clue. “Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead, slipped out of bed, and went to his room.”

Bristol moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“I think it’s a little early for that,” I drawled.

Bristol held up the bottle and shook her head. “I’m not planning on drinking it. I was making sure I bought you non-alcoholic wine. You had three glasses of it, but you shouldn’t have gotten tipsy enough to fall into bed with Marco.” She put it back in the fridge. “No booze in it.”

I put my head in my hands and sighed.

“What’s with the long face?” Greer called. She breezed into the kitchen looking like she had slept for twenty hours, refreshed and ready for the day.

I groaned. I wished I could look as put together and classy as she did. Right now, I was a beached whale ready to pop who was trying to figure out what I was feeling.

Bristol handed Greer a coffee cup. “She woke up in bed with Marco.”

Greer’s steps faltered. “Say what?” She grabbed the cup and moved over to the coffee pot. “I think you might need to rewind a little bit and tell me how that happened. You were passed out to the world when he carried you to bed.”

“What?” I yelped. “He carried me?” Oh, my Lord. I was mortified. Now I was also worried that Marco had possibly thrown his back lifting my big ass.

“Well, you surely didn’t walk. I tried waking you up and you wouldn’t budge. Marco and the guys came in to see what I was doing.” She filled her cup with coffee and sat down next to me at the kitchen island. “Marco carried you.”

“Why didn’t I get carried to bed?” Bristol pouted.

Greer laughed. “Well, Murphy and Princeton duked it out over rock, paper, scissors, and Murphy lost. He tried to lift you up and instead of wrapping your arms around his neck like Royal did to Marco, you threw a left hook and caught Murphy on the chin. He dropped you like a sack of potatoes and left you to sleep in the recliner.”

“How chivalrous of him,” Bristol scoffed.

Greer waved her hand at Bristol. “You did

n’t even wake up, and you looked damn comfy.”

Bristol grabbed a whisk and bowl. “Yeah, well, I won’t be making him his favorite cookies anymore.”

“The cherry chip ones?” Greer asked.

Bristol nodded.

“Yes, you will, because those are also Marco’s favorite,” Greer laughed.

Bristol frowned. “Well, shit.”

Greer waved her hand. “Enough of that. We need to go back to how Marco ended up in your bed this morning.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I don’t know,” I whined.

“He told her she wouldn’t let go of him so he just climbed into bed with her,” Bristol blabbed.