“Ah shit,” Eli said, looking up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. “I’m fucking tired, and it’s Friday, and that means it's chill time for me right there in front of the television. Does he not know this by now?"

I giggled at Eli’s over-dramatic, sulky tone, closing up the box holding what was going to be a scrumptious meal.

“So DVR whatever it is you'd be watching, dude,” I said with a shrug. “I mean, you did hear me when I said ‘foursome,’ right? As in four sweaty guys alone in a fiberglass-encased room with nothing to do except whack at their balls with their…” I lowered my voice to a theatrical whisper, “rackets?”

Eli gave me a playful swat as I passed him on my way out. "Brat," he growled. "Drive safely."

On my way out through the door though, I made sure to turn around with, “Oh, and try not to dent up any hardwood floors with your balls. I hear that’s frowned upon.” I gave him a stern look.

He shook his head with a hard eye-roll, closing the door with one huge-ass grin on his face.

Eli had hit the nail on the head. Darin and I had just finished our salads when he followed me into the kitchen, where I bent over to check the Chicken Parmesan in the oven.

"Mmm," he said, coming up behind me, and rubbing my ass with the palms of both hands. I straightened up, leaning back against his strong frame.

"I can see those squats have made your glutes kind of epic there, babe," he whispered in my ear. I shivered as his lips brushed against my lobe, and then his tongue lightly flicked the outer edge.

"I'll take that as a compliment of the highest regard," I replied, "I have a very strict trainer, you see."

His arms encircled me, and I felt him nuzzle the back of my neck with his nose; he nipped gently at my skin. "How about you turn the oven down and we get a little exercise before the main course?"

I smiled against him, reaching over and turning the oven dial down to nearly nothing.

Darin lifted me up, and I immediately wrapped my bare legs around his torso, allowing him to carry me off to his king-sized bed where we enjoyed an hour of play that had very few boundaries.

We had just finished dinner, and I was loading the dishwasher, when his cell rang. He looked down at it.

"Gotta take this, babe," he said, taking several long strides out of the kitchen. I figured it was probably something with the bureau. Darin was so committed to the FBI and loved his new assignment as Intern Coordinator. He was a master of motivation; that was for damn sure.

I heard his voice raised a bit from the living room, just enough to hear him say, "I told you, Lisa, not tonight. I'm busy, babe."

Umm…?

My ears immediately went into 'eavesdrop' mode, a skill I had honed growing up, as a result of all the boundaries I had crossed with my parents. They were forever disagreeing on how to handle discipline where I was concerned. I tiptoed closer to the hallway, straining to hear his side of the conversation.

"Tomorrow then, babe. Yeah, I've got to go now. Uh huh…Okay…miss you, too."

What the hell?

I'm not much of a game player—with emotions, that is. I joined Darin in the living room right as he tossed his cell on the table.

"Who was that?" I asked point-blank.

He immediately looked over at me as if I had somehow crossed an arbitrary line with him.

"That was a friend of mine," he replied, without batting an eye. "You probably know her from the program, Lisa Benedict."

I did know her. Tall, blonde, big boobs. She was doing an internship at Quantico as well. She was another of Darin's coachees.

"So what? Are you fucking her too?" I blurted. "I mean, I couldn't help hearing part of your conversation," I said, feeling my face flush.

He looked at me directly, not masking his expression. "Hey, Paige, I mean, come on here. You and me? We're not exclusive or anything," he said, his tone clipped. "I don't nose into your business, and by the same token, I don't expect you to be nosing into mine."

I walked over to where he was standing, and made sure that my eyes met up with his.

“Huh,” I raised my shoulders and let them fall. “So you’re just my trainer who likes to keep it…physical. I get it. I mean, I kind of thought we had a little something going, but I’m so glad you took the time to clear that up.”

"Hey," he replied, his hands outstretched, as if pleading his case to me. "We've never discussed exclusivity, and…I'm not at a place right now where I even want to consider it. Well, I mean, not with you at any rate, Paige. I mean, you're a knock-out and all, babe, but I don't see me getting serious with someone at the bureau…ever. It's just not a good idea."

Oh, I was pissed now. Royally.

“Well,” I said, nodding my head slowly. “I can see why not getting into anything serious with someone at the bureau is a good idea. However, fucking everyone at the bureau seems like a great one. God, why didn’t I think of that?” I gave him my best clueless look, “I guess I must’ve been absent the day you went over that one.”

He shrugged and nodded. "I thought you knew the score, doll. I mean, it's not like I ever took you out on a date or anything. I figured you understood what this was about."

Fuck you.

"Why don't you call Lisa back, Darin? Let her know your schedule for tonight has just been freed up."

I grabbed my purse from the sofa, and he made no move whatsoever to stop me.

"Cocksucker," I breathed out on a harsh breath, as I pushed the door of his apartment open, taking the tattered remnants of my pride with me.

I was perched on the sofa in the family room, spooning the last mouthful of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream into my mouth, tossing the empty container onto the coffee table, where it joined its empty brother, 'Chunky Monkey' who'd gone first, when I heard Cain and Eli come in.

Shit! I just knew I was going to hear about eating up two containers of their precious ice cream. You see, I almost never indulged in that sort of thing anymore, which is why I never bought any for myself. Which is why, in crisis, I'd gotten into theirs.

You see, my boys were extremely territorial about their stuff and about my getting into it.

They had both mini-lectured me on using up their laundry detergent, borrowing their razors to shave my legs when I had run out of my disposable Lady Schicks (Cain had really been pissed about that one, knocking on my bedroom door with little bits of Kleenex tissue dotted with blood attached to his face, and chewing my ass out about it). So getting into their groceries was a major infraction for sure.

I braced myself for my next ass-chewing, as they came into the family room, having heard the television blaring some Lifetime flick I'd turned on. Lifetime's movie theme just happened to be "Eating Disorder Weekend."

And I'm not going to lie. Watching Meredith Baxter as some soccer mom with bulimia, shoveling ice cream into her mouth, as she placed her order for two large fries, a cheeseburger, a fish sandwich and two milk shakes at a drive-thru window was enough to get me into the mood for some comfort food.

They stopped short when they saw me, quickly assessing the situation.

"What happened?" Eli asked, standing in the entryway wearing nylon shorts and some kickass Nike’s. "Why are you home so early?"

I didn't have time to even respond to his questions when Cain spoke up. "And why are you binge-eating Ben & Jerry's?"