22. Rowan
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rowan
It’s been a couple of days since the hospital visit, and Jinx is gradually improving.
The bruise on her wrist, once a dark, angry blue, has faded into a mottled purplish-yellow mess, reminiscent of a watercolor gone wrong. Her headaches, which used to pound like thunder, have mostly subsided to a gentle throb.
We’ve been staying at her small, cluttered apartment, every square inch of it occupied by our presence—trying to make it work even though her lumpy couch feels like it’s gnawing at my spine, and Thomas keeps accidentally toppling the quirky snake-shaped lamp that wobbles precariously by the corner.
Tonight, however, the atmosphere seems a bit lighter, almost buoyant. Bruno, with his infectious enthusiasm, has somehow convinced Jinx to rewatch Say Anything .
I’ve been subjected to it three times now, courtesy of Bruno’s relentless love for what he calls the “Bruno Canon of Romance.”
Jinx snorts in mock exasperation as she sinks into the couch, curling up against a soft, worn-out throw pillow with a large bowl of buttery popcorn precariously balanced on her belly.
“Okay, okay,” she mutters, her voice laced with playful warning, “but if this guy plays that boombox thing, I swear to God?—”
Laughter erupts around the room. Thomas, with a mischievous grin, tosses a handful of popcorn in her direction, the kernels scattering like confetti.
The room is enveloped in darkness, save for the flickering glow of the TV. We’re all huddled together, a tangle of long limbs, cozy blankets, and the quiet warmth of companionship.
As the credits begin to roll, a serene pause settles over us—a slow, lingering moment where no one dares to move, savoring the shared silence.
Bruno shifts first, twisting slightly toward her on the couch with a subtle creak of the worn leather beneath them.
“Well?” he asks, raising an eyebrow that arches like a questioning hawk. “Did it melt your little black punk-rock heart?” His voice is teasing, a lilt of challenge in the air.
Jinx scoffs, a dismissive sound that matches the roll of her eyes, as she licks the last grains of salt from her fingers. The remnants of popcorn glisten under the dim light.
“It was fine,” she says, dragging the word out like a lazy drawl. “A silly romance, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever.” Her voice is nonchalant, but the slight curl at the corner of her lips betrays a hint of amusement.
Bruno grins. “You say that like you’ve ever experienced real romance.” His eyes twinkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his elbow brushing against hers.
She arches a brow, the challenge mirrored in her gaze. “Excuse me?” Her tone is sharp, yet curious.
“I mean,” he continues, his voice dropping to a hushed murmur as he leans in a little more, his breath warm against her skin, “have you ever actually been romanced? Like… shown affection the way you deserve?”
The question hangs in the air, charged with an unspoken promise.
The popcorn bowl, once the centerpiece of the casual evening, is now forgotten, its contents scattered across the coffee table. Her expression flickers, caught somewhere between annoyance and an emotion she can’t quite place.
“I’m not some girl in a music video, Bruno,” she retorts, her voice firm.
“No,” he murmurs softly, his gaze steady and unwavering, “you’re better.”
His words are a gentle caress, and then he kisses her. It’s not showy or over-the-top, but like he’s savoring every second of the moment. I watch her stiffen initially, her body tense, but then she softens, her fingers curling lightly in the sleeve of his shirt, anchoring her there.
The room goes still, the world outside fading away.
Thomas and I exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between us.
There’s something in the air now—warmer than the dim light cast by the flickering television, thicker than the soundtrack credits still rolling. It hums beneath my skin like an electric current.
I lean in, brushing my shoulder against Jinx’s, the contact sending a ripple of warmth through me. When she glances at me, her eyes wide and searching, I kiss her, too—just a light brush at first, tentative and gentle, then firmer as she leans into it.
When I pull back, a soft smile plays on my lips, and Thomas grins beside me, his eyes alight with understanding. He leans in as well, and she welcomes him with the same quiet intensity, her eyes fluttering closed.
My hands explore her body, feeling the swell in her lower belly and the suppleness of her full tits. She gasps against his mouth, her back arching slightly into my touch.
Bruno’s eyes meet mine over her shoulder, dark and filled with something unspoken but understood. His hand slides over mine, our fingers intertwining against the curve of her hip.
“Is this okay?” Thomas whispers against her neck, his voice hoarse with restraint.
Jinx nods, breathless. “More than okay.”
We move together like we’ve practiced this dance a hundred times before.
Bruno gently pulls her onto his lap while I kneel behind her, my chest against her back, lips tracing the constellation of freckles across her shoulders. Thomas slides to the floor, his hands caressing her thighs.
“I’ve thought about this,” she confesses, her voice barely audible over our collective breathing. “I miss you, I miss feeling you all at once like before…”
“We can do that again, if you want,” I sigh against her neck. The smile across her lips tells me all I need to know.
My hands grip her tits, pulling them out from her shirt so I can lick and suck them. I watch Bruno kiss her hard again, her cheeks reddening from our touch. Thomas’s hand trails down below her belly, underneath her jeans, and I feel her arch.
Her body reacts with a shudder, a soft moan escaping her lips as Thomas’s fingers work their magic. I can feel her heartbeat racing against my chest, the rhythm of it matching my own.
“We’ve missed you,” Bruno murmurs against her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair. “All of us.”
The lamplight catches the silver of her nose ring as she turns to look at each of us in turn, her eyes half-lidded and wanting. There’s a vulnerability there I’ve rarely seen, a surrender that feels like trust.
Thomas eases her jeans down her hips, his movements deliberate and gentle. “Tell us if you want to stop,” he says, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.
“Don’t you dare,” she breathes, her fingers finding my wrist, guiding my hand lower.
We move to her bedroom, Thomas lifting her up in his arms as we all follow the sound of Jinx’s giggles. He lays her down on the bed like she’s precious, fragile.
She’s anything but, with her wild hair splayed across the pillows and that defiant glint still in her eyes, even as her body surrenders to our touch.
We take our time undressing each other, hands everywhere, learning curves and angles anew. The room fills with sighs and whispers, skin against skin.
Bruno’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses down her stomach, pausing at the curve where her body has changed, growing with our child inside her. His reverence makes her blush, and she pulls him up for a fierce kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, meaning it more than I’ve ever meant anything.
We form a circle around her, our hands mapping territories both familiar and new. Her body responds to each touch like she’s been waiting for us, for this moment.
“I need you,” she whispers, her voice breaking with desire. “All of you.”
We move in a synchronized rhythm that feels impossible yet natural. Thomas holds her from behind, his strong arms cradling her as Bruno positions himself between her thighs.
I watch her face transform with pleasure as he dives his thick cock straight into her, her lips parting in a silent gasp. When she reaches for me, pulling me toward her mouth, the circuit completes.
Bruno’s pace quickens under her as he watches us kiss, his hands gripping her hips with reverence. Thomas’s hands circle across her nipples, gently pulling and tugging on them with each pass. Then, Bruno pulls out, a smirk across his darkened face.
“Your turn,” he says to me.
Standing, I slip myself between her legs, my long cock rubbing against her wet pussy. I slide inside her with one smooth thrust, and she gasps against Bruno’s mouth.
The sensation is overwhelming—her warmth enveloping me completely. Thomas’s hands steady her trembling body, his lips against her neck, whispering words only she can hear.
“God, Jinx,” I groan, watching her eyes flutter closed as I begin to move.
Bruno kneels beside her head, stroking her hair tenderly as she reaches for him. The sight of her taking him into her mouth sends electricity down my spine.
We move together in perfect harmony, like we’re all parts of the same instrument playing a song only we know.
Thomas’s hands wander, one sliding between her legs where I’m buried inside her, his fingers circling that sensitive spot that makes her moan around Bruno. Her body tenses, and I feel her tightening around me.
“That’s it,” Bruno encourages, “come on that fat cock.”
She does as she’s told, and I almost come myself as I feel her tighten and ripple against me. My hands dig into her hips as I pull myself out, switching with Thomas, and we all grin as we watch her face as Thomas enters her, her head flopping backwards with ecstasy.
Bruno places his throbbing cock in her left hand as I kneel before her, letting her take me straight down her throat. The feeling of her tongue against my head as she sucks me off is almost too much, and I cradle her head as I feel myself getting close.
She pulls away, a teasing grin across her wet lips. “Not yet.”
She props herself up on her knees, pushing me down below her as she positions herself above me, her ass sitting on my dick. “I want you all to fuck me like this, reverse cowgirl. Think you can do it?”
We all nod, eager not to disappoint.
First up is me. I feel her take my dick in her soft hand, my cock twitching against her, and with a few attempts I feel myself slide deep into her ass, peeling her apart as she groans and sighs above me.
Slowly, I push up into her, pumping back and forth.
“Bruno, fuck my pussy,” she sighs, and I watch him mount her face to face.
I feel his thick cock enter her pussy pushing against me from the other side. His face contorts in pleasure, I feel myself quickening, burgeoning with pleasure.
Thomas stands over her, cupping her head as she sucks his dick, and the sound of her moans as she chokes on it is too much for me.
I grip her ass as I dump myself into her, filling up her tiny asshole. Bruno comes with me, filling up her tight pussy before giving it a light smack.
“Fuck, I love that pussy. The most beautiful pussy on earth,” he says with a grin.
We both watch as Thomas fucks her face, the sight enough to nearly make me come again, and with a devilish smile, she gently rubs her entrances, swirling us all together before taking a taste.
We’re all sprawled across her bed once more, our limbs intertwined in a mess of blankets and the warmth of each other’s skin. The gentle murmur of the heater fills the space, providing a soothing backdrop to our silence.
She’s nestled on her side, strands of hair clinging to her damp cheek, and a subtle smile plays at the corners of her lips.
Bruno is on the far side, his eyelids fluttering as he drifts into sleep. Thomas lies beside me, his fingers interlocked over his chest like he’s holding himself back from reaching out to her again.
Jinx clears her throat softly, breaking the stillness. “I think I need to go back to my routine,” she announces, her voice gentle yet unwavering, leaving no room for negotiation. “You guys should, too.”
The atmosphere shifts, like a gentle breeze passing through. Thomas blinks up at the ceiling, his eyes searching for answers in the plaster. Bruno remains silent, his breathing steady and slow.
I hesitate for a moment, taking in her words, then sit up gradually, the sheets whispering against my skin as they slide down my chest.
“Right,” I say, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath my feet. “Back to routine.”
I start pulling on my hoodie, the fabric stiff and slightly rough against my skin, having dried unevenly on her bathroom radiator. The cotton scratches my arms, and somehow that discomfort feels fitting.
I steal a glance at her, watching as she sits cross-legged on the edge of her bed, her focus seemingly lost in the pages of a well-worn novel.
“Do you want to move into our place?” I ask again. “You’d have your own room. It’s not like we’d be in each other’s way. Unless you wanted us to be.”
She keeps her eyes fixed on the book, her fingers idly tracing the dog-eared pages. “No point,” she finally replies, her voice steady but distant. “None of the schools I applied to are anywhere near your place. And anyway, I like having my own space.”
Her words hit harder than I expect, each sentence like a cold gust of wind. I nod slowly, my gaze dropping to the scuffed floorboards, avoiding her eyes that remain hidden behind a curtain of hair.
“Got it,” I mutter.
I don’t say goodbye. I just leave, the hoodie half-zipped and shoes dangling from my fingertips.
The apartment door creaks as it opens, a sound that echoes in the quiet hallway. My throat feels like sandpaper, raw and scratchy, and an itch crawls under my skin, persistent and unrelenting.
Even after I leave, their voices seep through the thick, wooden door, subdued but charged with tension. I can almost see Thomas pacing back and forth, his footsteps a steady, dull thud against the carpeted floor.
“She just doesn’t get it,” he insists, his voice strained and edged with frustration. “She doesn’t understand what it means to be loved. Not really.”
A heavy silence follows, hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Then Jinx’s voice cuts through, sharp and wounded. “You think I don’t know how to love people? Really? You think I haven’t tried?”
I wince, pressing my back against the cool plaster of the hallway wall, eavesdropping despite knowing I shouldn’t.
Thomas fires back, his tone clipped. “You try, yeah. But you don’t let it happen. There’s a difference.”
The door creaks softly on its hinges as Bruno slips out into the hallway beside me, shrugging into his worn leather coat. His eyes are downcast as he adjusts the collar and secures the top button.
“She asked me what our deal was,” he mutters, his voice low and weary. “I just kissed her. I didn’t know what to say.”
Outside, the snowflakes swirl gracefully, illuminated by the truck’s headlights, like tiny dancers in a winter ballet. Within the cab, the heater hums steadily, but it fails to keep the chill from creeping into my bones.
We drive without speaking, lost in our thoughts, until we’re nearly home. Bruno clears his throat, breaking the quiet.
“My grandma said that Jinx is strong, fiercely independent. She might not even know how to let someone take care of her. But if we truly love her, we have to be patient and wait.”
Thomas lets out a long, slow breath, as if he’s been holding it for an eternity. “That woman’s the only one who makes any sense these days,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with admiration.
I nod, watching as the windshield wipers sweep rhythmically across the glass, leaving arcs of clarity in a world of white. “Waiting sucks,” I admit, the words heavy with frustration.
“Yeah,” Bruno responds, his voice barely above a whisper. “It does.”
“But,” I continue, trying to inject a sliver of optimism into the conversation, “maybe it’s all we’ve got.”
Thomas tilts his head back, resting it against the cold glass of the window. “Waiting, hoping, and trying not to lose our minds,” he adds, and he sounds resigned but determined.
After that, silence reclaims the space between us.
We drive on through the gentle cascade of snowflakes, each of us clinging to the fragile hope that Jinx will see us as worth choosing in the end.