Chapter 74
SEVENTY-FOUR
Home (with Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha)
I still feel shocked, going back over and over what Ryan said. Is it really true? There’s no way that it’s true, but how in the hell did he know that fact about Greyson?
Ronan is deathly silent, and I keep checking back, but he just stares out the window, gripping both pieces of Buffalo.
“Ronan, are you okay?”
No response. I glance at Dakota. “Is he okay?” Christ, maybe he got hurt when I was busy and didn’t notice.
Dakota shakes his head. “He said he wants Buffalo back.”
He has him back? As I risk another glance back though, I see he’s not fully back. Buffalo is still in pieces.
Okay. I can fix this. We can put him back together. I focus on the problem immediately in front of me. How do we put him back together? “Dakota, do you have a sewing kit back at home?”
Dakota snorts.
Yeah, I should have known the answer to that. Maybe I can go out and buy one? But then I realize I’ve never sewn a day in my life. Then, I remember who has: my moms.
Okay. Yes, I can fix this.
I haven’t talked to either of my moms in a few weeks. I dial up ‘Mom’ since I know ‘Momma’ is probably at work.
“Logan!” Her voice is so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “How are you?” She sounds excited.
“Good, hey,” I glance in the rearview mirror, “mind if we stop by? I have a favor.”
“We?” Mom’s voice gets higher, like she’s a shark smelling blood in the water.
“Yeah, I’m,” I consider my eardrums before saying the next words, “bringing my–” I stare at Dakota. Is he ready to be outed? “Boyfriend over?”
The resulting screech makes me yank the phone away so loud I know both Ronan and Dakota can hear her yelling. It’s a happy yelling, and I’m fucking happy too. In fact, I’m proud. I glance back at the men with me—my men—and Dakota looks slightly horrified. Ronan just shakes his head, muttering, “Loud.” I’m just glad to see him respond.
It takes Mom a minute to calm down. She pulls herself together, likely trying not to scare me off, and then I hang up.
“I didn’t want to… tell her if you weren’t okay with it.” I glance back at Dakota, who shrugs.
“You don’t have to tel-l-l-l her if you don’t want to.” He’s staring at his hands.
Oh hell, did he get the wrong idea? “Kota, look at me,” I demand, wishing I didn’t have to keep looking at the road.
His gaze snaps up to mine in the mirror, and I say, “ I want to .”
There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, then he looks back down, muttering something.
“What?” I have to rip my gaze back to the road.
“Okay,” he says. I take a quick glance again, and he’s grinning slightly.
I’ll fucking take it.
It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer that I grew up in, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say the closer I get, the more my knee doesn’t bounce. I’ve never brought anyone except Greyson here. Especially not after he left. I moved out as soon as I could and rarely came back.
“Hey, uh,” I clear my throat. “It’s probably going to be messy in there. Mom and Momma are a bit… Well, they’re collectors.” Of junk, but I don’t say that.
The car is quiet, and I see Ronan is back to staring at Buffalo. Dakota speaks up. “Hey, I kinda have a zero item policy…so like…if anyone has-s-s-s things in their home, I have to go.”
I yank my eyes off the road to meet his. His pretty lips turn up in a teasing smile.
Oh shit. Kota is making a joke.
Suddenly, I’m warm, and my leg doesn’t want to bounce as much.
I can do this. I can do it.
When we get out of the car, everything is so familiar. It’s like I’m taken back fourteen years, and I’m that scared kid again.
Only, I’m not. I have my two men here with me. I can fucking do this.
Mom is waiting at the door when we arrive. She still has blond hair like mine, although hers is graying heavily. Her smile lines deepen as she flings her arms around me, squeezing me tightly even though she’s tiny and short.
“Mom, these are my boyfriends.”
I motion at the two, and her eyes go wide. There’s a silence where both my men look tense and like they don’t know what to do. Then my mom explodes in excited chatter, “Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you!”
Dakota lets out a surprised grunt when Mom hugs him. She pulls back, grabbing Ronan’s face. “Oh god, you are so perfect. How did you meet?”
Ronan flinches back, and I immediately step forward. “Mom.” I motion at the cow in Ronan’s hands, trying to distract her from Ronan’s flinch. Fuck, why did she have to grab him? “Can we go inside?”
She looks at the toy. “Oh god, of course! Come in.”
Mom bustles inside, and I step in first. I don’t want them to feel like the place is unsafe with all the things piled up. It’s not. Not really, just cluttered. The house is just as messy as I remember it. There are still random objects piled high all along the walls and on top of each other.
“Can I get you anything to eat?” Mom moves to the kitchen. “It’s almost dinner. I was going to make a sandwich, but now I can–”
“No, sandwiches are good.” I smile. Mom cooking things is usually a disaster.
Both Ronan and Dakota are standing around, being polite. They look so… big in this cluttered house it almost makes me smile. Two big criminals standing around trying to be polite to my Mom. It’s cute.
Mom rattles on, asking them rapid-fire questions as she makes food. The questions involve where the men work, if they have kids, how long we’ve known each other, and if we are engaged? With that question, she motions at the ring on Ronan’s hand. My ring.
It makes me more smug than I should be. We’re not married, but they are mine . Ronan and Dakota each answer her. Dakota gives short answers and doesn’t stutter, and Ronan puts on a polite show. They both slide into what I would imagine is their cop demeanor.
“Hey, Mom,” I interrupt her tirade. “Do you think you can fix this?” I wave at Buffalo.
“Oh sure, yeah. What is it?” She finishes making the sandwiches and comes over, pulling her glasses down her nose. I notice she didn’t wash her hands before coming over, and I know Ronan’s not going to want to give over Buffalo.
“Just a… toy. It’s important to… one of the kids I work with.” Ronan clutches him.
“Oh damn, that’s a good tear there.” Mom laughs and reaches out to take the piece.
Ronan doesn’t give them over.
“Can I see it? I want to see how thin the fabric is.”
Ronan trembles a little and finally hands Buffalo over. Mom looks him over, examining the tear. “Yeah, I can fix it. No problem.”
“Can you do it now?”
She looks up at me in surprise. “Now?”
I nod. Ronan won’t want to be away from Buffalo for long. I already saw how stiff he was when he gave it over.
“Sure, I can do that.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I give her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m gonna go show them my room. Okay?”
“Sure, yeah, no problem. Oh god, I’m so glad Logan’s finally met some nice boys.” She grins, and I push Dakota in the direction of the hallway.
When we get to my room, I move them both inside and shut the door.
And that’s when all the feelings hit me. All at once, like a big punch to the face. Greyson may have sent me a message from the grave, and now I’ve brought my boyfriends back to the same place he and I used to haunt.
“Oh fuck. This is old.” Dakota sits on the edge of my bed, grabbing my game controller.
I cough, trying to get some semblance of control back. Ronan must notice ‘cause he traces his hand down my arm.
“Oh, is that what your tattoo is from?” Dakota looks at my arm. The one with the sleeve that ends at the game tattoo on my wrist.
“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “It used to be Greyson’s favorite.”
“S-s-s-ick.” Dakota flops on my bed. “Mine too.” He stares at me for a bit. “What’s under the blackout?”
I glance down at my arm, not sure how he knew. But both men are perceptive as hell. “Uh, other tattoos that reminded me of… him.” I clear my throat. If I’m ever going to heal from this, I need to at least talk about it. “Greyson.”
“He sounds cool. I bet we would have gotten along.” Dakota sits up straight. “A keyboard.”
I glance around. Sure enough, Mom must have dragged the keyboard in here, and I didn’t notice. Dakota gets up, searching for a place to plug it in.
Ronan moves quietly to the bed, sitting down. A twinge of worry goes through me. I hate seeing Ronan quiet.
He looks at me and gives me a sad smile.
Dakota finds the plug and plays a few keys. “It works!” Then he plays some notes to a song while awkwardly bending over because there is no chair.
“You good?” I sit next to Ronan.
“Peachy.” He tries to put on a show, but I see what he’s doing.
“Same.” I sigh, leaning back to watch Dakota, who’s rolled into playing a pretty classical piece. The music washes over us, and I slowly let it relax me.
Ronan must relax too because slowly, his head falls to my shoulder, and he sighs. Then, the quietest words come out, “It’s so quiet.”
I let out a whoosh of breath, looking around the room. It takes me a second to realize that Ronan’s talking about Buffalo, not the music. Putting my hand on his thigh, I stroke it there, back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” I say quietly. Because it’s not. It isn’t fair that Greyson died. It isn’t fair that Ronan’s seen more than his share of trauma. And it isn’t fair that Dakota has lived more than his share of trauma. But, as the music plays around us, I realize that it also isn’t fair that I’ve found the best men to be by my side. I don’t deserve them, and yet here they are.
And maybe, just maybe, it was true that Greyson forgives me. And that he understands. And at that thought, I realize something. I still have the music Greyson left for me before he died. The music I’ve never heard.
I bolt up, startling Ronan.
“Be right back.” I dart out of the house, find the papers I had put in the glove box of my car, and then return with the papers clutched in my hands. They’re hand-drawn music. When I come back in, Dakota stops playing, and he looks a little startled.
“Can you play this?” I push it at him, breathing heavily.
He looks at it. “What is it?”
“Uh, Greyson… left it for me.” My heart is racing. I never tried to play it because I never thought that I was ready. I didn’t even look at it. I’m still not sure that I’m ready.
“This is for the guitar.”
I have one in the closet. I have to push mountains of stuff out of the way, but I find it and give it to Dakota.
He gives me a small smile. “Thanks.”
Ronan pats the bed beside me, and I sit beside him, taking a minute to center myself. Then, Dakota starts playing, and immediately, I’m caught up in a melancholy song that’s hauntingly familiar. It’s the song Greyson was playing when I first met him.
I’m caught up in the music with tears in my eyes when Ronan pulls something out of his pocket. It’s the ring. The silver one with the gears. He spins it round and round, then says softly, “I need a drink.”
I sit up straighter, immediately turning to him.
“Need, but won’t get.” Ronan spins it furiously, then looks at me. “But if I’m healing, then you have to also.”
I stare at him.
“It’s not fair.” He scowls. “You can’t just be this fixer for the rest of us if you’re broken too. Don’t ask me to do all the work.”
I swallow, my throat tight. Dakota keeps playing, starting the song over and starting to hum. The sound is the most beautiful and sad thing at the same time.
“I miss him.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.
The corner of Ronan’s mouth tips up. “I know.” Then he says even softer, “I know.”
And, in that moment, nothing is okay, and everything is okay all at the same time. Life isn’t fair, but it’s also so, so beautiful.
I reach out, tracing my hand behind Ronan’s head and pulling his face to mine, suddenly needing him more than my next breath. Then, I smash my lips to his, kissing him brutally. Kissing him so hard it hurts. And he returns it, also grabbing the back of my head and pressing me to him.
The kiss grows deeper, and I’m shoving Ronan onto his back. He falls with a muffled whoosh, and I’m pressing my lips to him the whole way. Breathing in his sounds and pulling him into me as much as I possibly can. Trying to melt him to me.
I need him. Desperately. I shove up just enough to yank my pants down. “Dakota, come.”
The demand is back in my voice. I want to watch Dakota’s face as I press into Ronan. Want to watch the desire unfold there in the most intoxicating dance.
“Your mom,” Ronan says, but he’s still trying to pull his pants down.
“Guess you’ll just have to be quiet then, hmmm?” I’m stroking my dick, but I don’t need to. It’s already rock hard, leaking precum all over my hand. I cover my dick in it. Then Dakota is there, standing beside me, looking unsure.
“Pants,” I bark at him. If I’m not inside Ronan in two seconds with Dakota’s dick in my hand, I think I’ll lose it.
Ronan pulls his shirt off and starts to flip over, but I pin him with a quiet growl. “No. Face me.” Ronan’s eyes go wide, and for a second, I watch him consider fighting me.
I press against his ass, harsh and insistent. I don’t give him time to roll away because I know he doesn’t want me to. Ronan loves when I take control.
So that’s what I do.
Ronan’s back arches off the bed, and he lets out a moan as I push the tip into him.
“Never any lube?” Ronan’s gritting his teeth, and I slow down, grabbing Dakota’s pants and yanking them down.
“You like a little bit of pain.”
Ronan looks up at me, and I’ve never experienced this intimate position before. His dick bobs on his stomach, hard and veiny. I grab Dakota, who’s also hard, and it sends sparks through my whole body.
This is where I’m meant to be. With these men.
And then I see the scars on Ronan’s chest. The scars that I left. The ones that read: dead.
My chest seizes, and I stop completely, staring at Ronan. My heart squeezes for multiple reasons. I was so lost when I did that to him. And I hate that I did that to him.
Ronan seems to notice where I’m looking. His look softens, and he grabs my hand, squeezing it. “Hey.”
“Christ, Ronan,” my voice is shaky.
“It’s fine,” he says quickly. “Fuck, if I wasn’t convinced you were going to kill me, it would have been hot.”
“Jesus, you guys are kinky,” Dakota mutters.
“I’m sorry.”
Ronan’s gaze hardens. “You’re gonna be sorry if you don’t hurry up and fuck me.”
I let out a stuttered laugh, pushing into Ronan. “You guys mean the world to me.” My voice is strained, both from the attempt to keep from coming and from the emotion. “You make me so happy.”
Dakota groans as I stroke him. He’s already so hard, and I love the way he responds.
“And I will do everything I can to make you happy,” I grunt, pushing into Ronan in little increments. His body wraps around me in a heavenly squeeze, making my balls draw up already. Fuck, Ronan makes my long game a thing of the past. Or maybe in the past, I just didn’t care about anyone I messed around with.
Dakota grunts loudly, thrusting into my fist, and I give a strained chuckle, “Quiet, cub. Don’t want anyone hearing you.”
He makes a strained sound.
“Or maybe you’re into that?” I look over at him, and Dakota flushes.
“Oh fuck, you nasty boy.” I also grab ahold of Ronan, stroking his dick and making him moan. If I’m not going to last, then I’m taking them with me.
My whole body is full of pleasure and fire. Because I have my men. And it’s my honor to get to love them fully. To make them safe and happy, even as they do the same for me.
When Ronan comes, shooting cum all over his stomach and abs, his ass squeezes me, milking my own orgasm out of me. I grunt, coming deep inside Ronan. Dakota follows shortly after, and I jerk the cum onto Ronan’s stomach, then force Dakota to clean it all up with his tongue.
And Christ, if it isn’t the most happy I’ve ever been.