Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Sawyer
We find ourselves in the same seats we occupied at breakfast, but that’s where the parallels to this morning end.
The evening has been lovely.
Mercer cooked, preparing a decadent alfredo complete with homemade pasta noodles. We’ve shared two bottles of wine, though Tytus only took a few sips before he offered me the rest of his glass.
The guys are all making an effort to get along, although the energy is still a little stiff between them. The tension is more from treading lightly than any sort of hesitation or reservedness, though. For that, I’m grateful.
I’ve almost finished my third glass of wine when Noah rises from the table and takes my plate as well as his own to the sink.
I shift my chair back to help clean up, but he hits me with a stern glare. “I’ve got it.”
With a sigh, I settle back into my seat, grinning.
“Did you get enough to eat?” Mercer asks Tytus.
“Yeah. Thanks, prof.” Ty pats his taut stomach over his shirt. “I’m going to have to start watching again soon. But that was great. It really hit the spot.”
The warmth from my cheeks blooms throughout my entire body. I don’t even bother trying to hide my grin.
I’m practically giddy. They may not be best friends, but they’re getting along.
That’s as much as I can ask for. The wine has loosened me up, probably causing me to make dopey, lovesick faces at the guys all night.
At this point, I’m sitting on my hands to tamp down my excitement, but I can’t help but bounce in my seat.
Ty smirks, amusement etched on his face, and tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. “You love this, don’t you?”
I side-eye him, my lips twitching. “I really do.” Giggling, I reach out and lace my fingers with his.
He leans in, licking his lips, but between one heartbeat and the next, his expression flattens, his gaze ricocheting from my face to my neck and back again.
He tilts my head to the side, exposing more of my jawline and neck, and brushes the pad of his thumb over a tender spot. “What is this?”
I wince at the slight sting, then pull my phone out and open up the camera, then reverse the lens so I can see for myself.
Instantly, heat floods my cheeks, neck, and chest.
Ty shifts back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is it a hickey?”
I press my lips together, then bring my fingertips to my blistering hot skin.
I’m mortified.
“Is that from last night?” he presses.
Mercer picks up the almost empty bowl of pasta from the center of the table, eyeing me salaciously, then hisses. “That looks like it stings, sweetheart. Hopefully it was worth it. It looks more like beard burn than a hickey to me.”
Ty reaches for me again, but before he makes contact, he pulls his hand back like he’s been burned.
He’s clean-shaven. Mercer’s sporting a dark five o’ clock shadow, but he doesn’t have enough facial hair to create beard burn.
It only takes Ty a moment to figure out the identity of the person who gifted me the lovely blemish.
“That’s from him?” Tytus looks from me to Noah then back to me again. “From when? Today?”
The questions are accusations, each demand rooted in envy and laced with bitterness.
Through gritted teeth, he says, “You let him mark you?”
“Easy now,” Noah says from his place at the sink, his tone calm and low. He turns off the water and dries his hands.
I hold up one hand, holding him off.
He didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of us did.
I eye the jealous man beside me, one brow cocked. “You don’t have the monopoly on my pleasure, Ty.”
He jerks his head from side to side, causing his neck to pop. “Don’t I know it.”
The air thickens with tension, every man stiff but remaining silent.
While I’m flustered. And frustrated.
Good grief.
Ty promised to try and he’s done so well. The day has been full of healthy conversations. Yet this is what tips the scale?
I swivel to face him and shift in my chair, closing the space between us. “I’m with them, too, Ty. You know this. You agreed to try. Trying means keeping your shit together when, heaven forbid, you learn that I had sex with one of my other boyfriends.”
His focus remains locked on the table, head shaking, jaw ticking. He’s blocking me out. He’s refusing to engage.
That only pisses me off more.
Maybe it’s the wine, but the compulsion to put him in his place is insatiable. So I angle in another inch.
“I thought you liked watching.” My words are sticky sweet and completely antagonistic. “You had no problem watching when I used my vibrator in my dorm that night.”
He whips his head around. “That’s because I was the one holding the fucking remote, mon ange.” Fire flares in his irises, but the caustic glare remains.
I hold his attention, my chin lifted, as an idea forms in my mind.
It’s not my smartest idea, and there’s a good chance this won’t go well for anyone. But I can’t help myself.
“What if you were in charge?” I ask, my tone full of challenge. “Would it make you feel better if you were the one in control, telling Mercer and Noah what to do?”
Ty’s scowl hardens, but then his face quickly falls, knocking me off-kilter.
His shoulders sag as he lets out a defeated sigh. Running one hand through his hair, he admits, “I don’t know how to do that.”
Across the table, Mercer abruptly stands and spins a chair backward, then straddles it. He licks his lips, his eyes flashing wickedly. “I could teach you.”
Ty slams his hand against the surface of the table. “Like fuck you could.”
Mercer smirks. “Always so quick to oppose.”
Ty glares back. “Always so quick to take any opportunity you see.”
“Enough.” Noah sidles up to the table and cuffs the back of Mercer’s neck. Then his eyes lock with mine.
I shrink under his disapproving frown. Yeah. I started this.
Yet the silent chastisement doesn’t dull my need to finish it. Or just finish in general. Because now that the idea of Tytus telling Mercer and Noah what to do has entered my mind… I like it. I really, really like it.
Mercer leans back in his chair, shrugging off Noah’s hold. “Here’s the thing, pal. You’re committed to making an effort. You promised Sawyer you would try, right?”
Ty folds his arms across his chest, scrutinizing Mercer. The others may not realize it, but this is Ty trying. He isn’t looking away, and he hasn’t stormed out of the kitchen. It might not seem like much, but the intention behind his efforts is clear to me.
“She’s sitting here specifically asking you to try something she wants,” Mercer says. “You don’t feel capable by your own admission. I’m willing to help, and I’m certain Noah is, too.”
Tension crackles around the table.
Ty swallows slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he sneaks a glance my way.
Mercer clears his throat. “We’re all in for the night.
We have nowhere we need to be in the morning.
I like the idea of exploring the possibility of a group dynamic, or at the very least, seeing what unfolds when we’re all together.
No expectation, no pressure. My offer to help stands, even if it means I need to sit out completely.
I have a suspicion my lack of involvement may make this easier for you to tolerate. ”
With that, he stands and picks up two empty wineglasses and a potholder.
“Ignore him,” Noah grouses. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not completely comfortable with.” He sighs then, stacking the last few dishes from the table and carrying them to the sink.
Noah’s barely had his back to us for a full second before Ty scoots closer, capturing my hand and ducking close. “This is really what you want?”
With the uncertainty bleeding from him, I’m tempted to lie. But that isn’t fair to any of us. The last twenty-four hours have been powered by radical truths, and we’ve already come so far. I won’t downplay my hope for what we could become.
I take both of his hands in mine, caressing his knuckles with my thumbs. I’ve dreamed of being held by these hands for years. We’re here now, standing on the precipice of something beautiful, albeit unconventional. Hope flickers in the deepest depths of my soul.
Eyes locked with his, I hold steady. “Some version of this, yes. I know it’s a lot. If I’m asking too much—”
He grips my hands tighter. “Nothing you ask for would be too much, baby. I told you I’d try.” Softer, he adds, “I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this, ya know?”
He blows out a long breath, regarding me with a steely expression.
“I’m in,” he finally says, zeroing in on Mercer and Noah. “I’m up for whatever. At least I think I am.” He clears his throat, sitting up to full height.
“Most excellent,” Mercer murmurs, rubbing his hands together.
Noah elbows him in the side.
Tentatively, Tytus pulls his hands out of mine and cracks his knuckles under the table.
My chest tightens as I watch him. He’s nervous. But he’s still willing to try.
He looks at me, his dark irises suddenly blazing with heat, he’s mentally undressing me. Then he turns back to the others.
“I’ll sit out if I get to call the shots. But I only want Noah and Sawyer together.”
Mercer snickers, a glint of mischief dancing behind his eyes.
“Even better.” He heads out of the kitchen toward his room.
Halfway down the hall, he calls back, “Noah, make sure Shiloh is settled so we don’t traumatize her, then lock up.
Everyone meet in the living room in twenty minutes.
Carpe diem. Or in this instance, carpe membrum virile. ”