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"Remind me never to go apartment hunting with you again," Milo remarked as he plumped himself down on the sofa. "You loved the first one, but you still made me traipse around Manhattan to see another three." He added.

Presley laughed as she took off the heeled booties she had been wearing and replaced them with fluffy slippers. "You love spending time with me; don't lie, Crusoe." She winked before bringing over his mug of tea that she had brewed and sitting next to him.

The noise of Presley and Milo returning to her apartment drew the groggy bodies of Lewis and Charles into the main room. From the attire, it was clear that Lewis had not successfully persuaded Charles to go for a run. They both wore sweats and a jumper, with Charles also opting for a bandana which further exemplified how tired he was.

As Presley saw the two men wander in, she pointed to the kitchen island, "Cupcakes and drinks in the kitchen, oak milk latte for Lewis, and a choco-mocha-hazelnut-whipped cream-sprinkles Frappe for Charles." She announced as judging eyes fell onto the Ferrari driver from all angles.

They grabbed their drinks and chose a cupcake from the selection, and joined a groaning Milo and a bright-eyed Presley in the living room. Charles sat on the couch opposite, and Lewis lounged on the chaise lounge between the two black sofas.

"So, big night then?" Presley asked as she looked around the room at the three men who looked close to death. "I almost feel bad for dragging Milo away at eight-thirty, now."

Milo looked to the burette on his right with glossy eyes and a pouty lip. She jokingly slapped his shoulder. "I said 'almost', Crusoe." Presley laughed, to which Milo smiled and rested his head on her shoulder.

As soon as Milo saw Charles' gaze fixate on him and Presley, he quickly sat up and created some space between himself and the beautiful girl. Charles then relaxed a little bit as he slumped into the sofas and sucked on his drink.

"Well, it started just low-key, and then Charles brought tequila shots, and so the night went downhill from there." Lewis pointed out, "I think we needed it, though, and Milo and Charles didn't kill each other, always a bonus."

Both the blue-eyed boys chuckled, but they welcomed the ribbing from their friend, and although Presley didn't quite understand the nuance between them at the moment, she let it slide without asking any questions. However, she did bring her phone out from her pocket, and when Presley let out a loud and disapproving sigh, it brought the room to her.

Milo cocked his head, "Everything OK, Elvis?" He asked with a concerning tone before pulling her back towards him. "Shit, are they all from Juno?" Milo gasped.

Slowly Presley nodded her head, "We had dinner last night, and safe to say it didn't exactly go well." She informed Milo, who was scrolling through the messages his ex-situationship had sent to the girl next to him.

Charles sat forward, and his eyes darted to Presley and then to Milo, who had his arm around his wife. A pang of jealously ran through his body, and even though Milo had assured him that he wasn't in love with Presley, the look on his face as he comforted the brunette didn't paint the picture of anything but love.

"It will be fine; she does this, she'll shoot off a million messages, and then tomorrow or the next day, I will get a tailored version." Presley laughed, although there was a tone of worry in her words. "Plus, I'm way more interested in how Charles lost his phone."

Charles tutted and rolled his eyes. "So which one of you told her?" He accused, wagging his finger in-between Lewis and Milo. "So much for 'what happens at boys' night stays at boys' night," thanks, boys." He added.