Chapter 9
Josephine
Worried about waking my guests, I pull the bedroom door closed as quietly as possible, but it turns out it’s not necessary.
Hunter is awake, sitting cross-legged on my bed, gnawing on the end of a pen with her nose buried in a textbook.
“Is Greedy in here?” I whisper.
Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head, then, at regular volume, she says, “He’s using the bathroom in the hallway.
He insists he’s sleeping in here. There, specifically”—she points her pen at a pile of blankets and one sad-looking pillow shoved into the corner of the room—“but I drew the line at letting him use our bathroom.”
“Good call,” I quip. “Boys are gross.”
“You’re not wrong.” She shoots me a cheeky grin, but her smile quickly drops. “I’m sorry he’s here. I legit had no idea—”
“Hunter,” I interrupt, crossing the room and perching on the edge of the mattress.
I was up here earlier to shower and change, and just like then, the space feels familiar. Comforting. Safe. How is it possible that this place feels like home already? This isn’t just a room—it’s mine.
“I don’t mind. If Greedy thinks this is what he needs to do, I’m not going to object. I owe him big-time.”
She lets out a tsk and sits up straight like she’s ready to argue, but I continue.
“You being here means the world to me. Greedy is a bonus.”
“If you say so.” She snaps her textbook closed, then sets it on the corner of the nightstand closest to her side and hops up to pull back the covers.
“I’m serious.” I run a hand over the duvet. “I’d rather have you here with your old ball and chain than be by myself tonight.”
She chuckles, then before I can react, a pillow smacks me in the head.
“I’m going to let you get away with that because you’ve been through hell these last few days,” she teases.
I grab the pillow and throw it back. “Good to know that being kidnapped and slipping into an anxiety spiral has its perks. I wonder what else I could get away with.”
Yawning, she pulls back the sheet on my side. “I assume you’re not going to class tomorrow, but I am. We both need sleep. Are you ready for bed?”
Her yawn triggers my own, but I shake my head. “I need to shower first.”
Hunter snorts. “I bet you do. Who was it?”
I don’t even pretend to be offended by the question. If we’re doing this—Kylian, Locke, and me—I refuse to be ashamed of what we are and how we operate.
“Locke,” I breathe out, not bothering to temper the reverence in my voice. With a fresh pair of pjs from my dresser, I head for the en suite.
“And how was it?” she calls after me.
Glancing over my shoulder from the doorway, I shrug, but my coy act lasts a total of three seconds. The biggest smile takes over my face as I look back at my friend. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” I whisper giddily.
Hunter squeals, kicking her legs under the covers and making a scene. She freezes and schools her expression in an instant when the bedroom door opens and Greedy enters the room.
Once the door is shut behind him, they lock eyes, but a breath later, she lies back and rolls over without a word, effectively dismissing him.
I take that as my cue to close the bathroom door so I can quickly scrub myself clean.
I did the whole long, luxurious, deep-conditioning, shave-every-hair and scrub-every-inch shower after Kylian went up to the Nest earlier. I just need a quick rinse so I can climb into bed without smelling like sex.
When I’m done, I slip on my clean pajamas, brush my teeth, and quietly sneak back into the bedroom.
It’s dark. But not dark enough to hide the lump on the ground.
Greedy isn’t sleeping in the corner where his pile of blankets was when I stepped into the bathroom. And he isn’t on the love seat near the door to the balcony, which would probably be his most comfortable option.
No, he’s on the floor, close to Hunter’s side, positioned between her and the door.
Shaking my head, I climb into bed and get comfy. There’s so much I don’t understand about these two. But I trust them both, despite the unknowns and the bad blood between the Crusaders and the Sharks.
Greedy saved me. More than that, he stayed to make sure I was okay. He was by my side at the hospital, and he advocated for me when I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
Then there’s Hunter. She isn’t just my bestie—she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. There’s a soul-deep connection between us. An effortless, platonic kind of love.
The dynamic between them baffles me. There’s history there, and there’s also chemistry and connection and undeniable fire.
From the longing looks he gives her and the reverent way he speaks to her, it’s obvious Greedy is after more than Hunter is willing or able to give. But based on what I’ve seen today, I don’t think he’s one to back down or give up without a fight.
I fidget a bit, eventually rolling to my side to find Hunter awake and watching me in the dark.
She readjusts her pillow, and a section of blond hair fans out in front of her face until she sweeps it away and tucks it behind her ear.
“Thank you for being my person,” I whisper.
“Don’t let your boyfriends hear you call me that,” she teases.
I give her shoulder a shove.
“Seriously. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
That’s the truth. And the reality is that it’s not over yet. There’s a very good chance I’ll wake up in the middle of the night disoriented or in a state of panic like I did in the hospital.
We have a safety plan in place, and Hunter knows what to say and do if I spiral. I’d never tell her, but I’m grateful that Greedy’s in the room with us, too, because he saw firsthand what it was like each time the panic crept in at the hospital.
“Yes, you could have. You’re amazing and strong as hell. But even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t have let you do it alone. That’s what best friends are for.”
Taking my hand under the covers, she squeezes twice before flopping to her back.
I lie there, still as stone, so overcome with gratitude that emotion clogs my throat. I don’t know what I did to deserve her; I don’t know what I did to deserve my guys either, but for perhaps the first time in my life, I feel cherished, loved, and seen.