Five to Love Him (Phoenix Immortal: Hive #1)

10. HIVE

ten

W e had lied to Leo, and we were feeling very guilty about it, and with his hand in ours, the guilt nagged us even more. Our third was just down the street. Leo would have seen us if he had turned, much like we could see the back of his head, the light brown-blond hair with the cowlick at his left temple.

We walked a few steps back from the window, mostly because the server had caught our eye and started frowning.

Leo’s hand felt so warm. Oh, how we hated lying to him. We watched him drink his coffee and added cashew milk to our grocery list. There wasn’t much room for storage at our cozy little place, but this we always wanted there. In case he came over. In case he stayed over.

We waited until he had put his cup down before we said, “We have something to confess.”

He narrowed his eyes, but we thought we saw a softness in his features that hadn’t been there before.

“Let me guess. You were stalking me after all. You know where I live, and you’ve been watching me.”

“We know where you live because your cab dropped you there, but we haven’t been watching you. No, we are three after all. We didn’t want to overwhelm you, and the third is outside.”

We even pointed at ourself where we stood outside the window, looking inside. Leo turned his head and met our eyes.

“Wow. I mean, that’s sort of stalking.”

“We know triplets are rare, but we thought it would be fine. And we did want to give you all our attention or as much of it as you would allow. Then we got scared and changed our mind.”

He groaned, picked up his cup, and finished what was left of it. He didn’t let go of our hand, and we were relieved.

“Fine. Tell him to come back in here. Being on a date with three people is totally normal.”

We tried to parse that as we hurried inside, opening the door with more force than it needed.

“Welcome to the Moonlight Diner,” the server said, one brow raised.

We stopped at the counter. “Can you bring our other more coffee, please? He finished his. With cashew milk, please.”

“Sure thing,” the server said, that brow still raised.

To Leo, we said, “We are one . You are on a date with one . We are also three here, but fundamentally, we are one.”

Leo had turned to watch us come inside. His head turned, his cowlick was within reach, and we longed to reach out, run our fingers along the defiant hair.

“I mean, yes, I get that, but there’s three of you. Hey, you want me to scoot—”

“Yes, please.”

He let go of our hand when he moved over, but we sat next to him now, were close enough to feel his body heat, and we were fine with the trade.

“Hi,” Leo said.

“Hello. But we have been here. You don’t need to greet us. It’s what we’re trying to explain.”

The server brought Leo’s coffee. “And more iced tea too?”

We nodded. “And a slice of the cherry pie, please.”

When the server left, we watched Leo fix his coffee. We were very sure we could do that now, and we added stevia to our shopping list as well, decided on the spot that we might as well head out to the store right then.

“Thanks. For the coffee,” Leo said.

“Of course. And we want you to know that we don’t lie, not like this, and not to you. We’re sorry we did it.”

“Oh. Uh. That’s okay. I think I get it. It’s like showing up to a date and not knowing whether you’re underdressed or overdressed.” He chuckled. “I was on the phone with a vampire earlier”—he whispered the last, glanced around, though no one was paying us much attention. “He was trying to get me to wear a tux to breakfast.”

“You told a vampire you were going to have breakfast with us? Are you friends with this vampire? Vampires do enjoy feeding on humans, Leo, even if they’re friendly.”

But Leo shook his head. “It’s not like that. He’s the principal. At St. Auguste, where I have that class. He was trying to get me to work there. Well, I suppose he hired me.”

We nodded, glad this particular topic had been broached without us having to do that.

“We heard about you looking for a job yesterday, and we thought about it. We are meeting with someone tomorrow to take another job. We don’t think you’ll have to work at all, unless you want to. We are small, but we are capable of paying attention to you and making sure you are comfortable and have everything you want.”

Leo stared at us, the coffee cup frozen halfway to his mouth. “You want to do this whole breadwinner thing? Doesn’t apply to the gay side, I think. Also, what do you mean, you’re small?”

We fidgeted and nearly bumped into a shifter on their run on our way to the store in the underground.

“We are only five,” we told Leo in a whisper. We used the opportunity to lean in closer to him.

“Five. Five. You know that’s plenty, right?” He looked at us with concentration. “How does it even work with five people? Well, six. I didn’t even—you’re definitely sure you’re not pulling my leg here about this whole mate thing?”

“We wouldn’t,” we said, and he looked over the table at us. Maybe we had spoken a bit more firmly than was needed, but we meant it.

“You’re not platonic. Are you platonic? Because if you’re not platonic, how does that even work?”

“We don’t want anything you are uncomfortable with.” We said that firmly as well, memories washing back over us, bile-inducing and raw. In the store in the underground, we dropped the stevia. An oculi saw and picked it up for us, asked whether we were all right. We nodded and breathed, breathed. That way we could stay calm in the Moonlight, and Leo didn’t have to see this. “We would never force anything on you.”

“But how—you know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to think about that. It’s weird. This whole waking up married thing is weird.”

“But we aren’t married, Leo.” If human law allowed, we would marry him in a heartbeat.

“No, I know. But my friend—Tate, you know, from last night—he talked to our instructor at St. Auguste, and he said any type of mating isn’t just equal to human marriage but given more weight.” He gasped. “Fucking hell. I’m a fucking cliché. I went out drinking, and I woke up married. Tate was right. At least I didn’t wake up with you in my bed. I mean, no offense, but erm. This is a lot. Maybe I should have finished college and stopped chasing shadows.”

“You are not a cliché,” we managed. The food came then, and we ate in silence for a while.

The silence meant we had a moment to think, to consider what we hadn’t dared think about before. Or maybe we had. We had just said we wouldn’t lie to Leo, and we didn’t want to. We would give him a promise, and we would swear it. It would not be lying not to tell him about that black patch in our past. But if he was there if and when we turned into a trembling mess kneeling on the floor of some store and being comforted by an oculi, he might rightfully wonder why that was. Technicalities aside, he might call us a liar, and we’d not argue it.

We would have to tell him. How we had been stupid to trust, had thought we could end our suffering by going through it. We knew we would have to tell him all that.

What would he think of us when he learned? We were scared, terribly, terribly scared to find out. We didn’t want him to find out. He might reject us, or he might hurt for us, and neither was good.

We made a decision then, and we knew it had regret built into it. We decided we would make him fall for us before he could hate us if only to learn what it was like to be loved by our gleaming one, by the one who shone for us alone. We would tell him when the time came, when we couldn’t hide it anymore, but we would wait as long as was possible.