Chapter 25
Irarely sleep through the night.
Not because I can’t, but because I don’t let myself.
Years of choosing alertness over comfort will do that to a man.
Too many instincts honed for exits and contingencies and what comes next if the city decides to get ugly again.
I wasn’t raised here; I’ve just been in and out of Crimson Bay enough to know what happens to complacent people.
Even here, in a loft we designed to be airtight in all the ways that matter, I surface every few hours out of habit.
Last night, though?
I didn’t.
I wake before Eris anyway, rested enough to notice the quiet. Sunlight creeps across the bed, catching on her bare shoulder where the sheet slipped in the night. Her mouth is parted, lashes dark against the flush of her cheeks, breathing slow and deep.
Content.
Peaceful.
I don’t feel smug about it. That surprises me more than anything. I’d expected… something. A recalibration. A warning light, maybe?
Instead, there’s only eagerness. The feeling is clean and uncomplicated.
Certainty, my mind supplies.
I get dressed quietly and leave the room, more out of courtesy than restraint. I want coffee and water… and I want to see how this lands with the guys.
Jace is already seated at the wall of monitors, shirtless, wrecking his blond hair as he stares into his mug like it personally offended him. Kieran is at the counter, doing something with protein powder that looks unnecessary on principle.
They chat idly about yesterday’s office alarm, but they both stop talking and look up when I enter.
“Well,” Jace drawls, eyebrow quirking as I move toward the cabinets. “There he is.”
Kieran glances past me, down the hall. “When we couldn’t find either of you, we, ahh… wondered if you were out.”
“Or if you guys were trying to kill each other over all the challenges and tension,” Jace adds with a poor attempt at a deadpan tone. “Or if one of you finally short-circuited and forgot how—”
“Neither,” I cut in, and clear my throat as I grab a mug. “Neither.”
Jace’s mouth twitches. “You look… awake.”
“Good sleep,” I say, pressing the button to brew my cup of coffee.
Kieran snorts. “That’s not what he meant.”
He walks around the kitchen island and studies me for a second. “She instigated that, right?”
“Yes,” I replied with a sigh. “But I didn’t really… resist.”
“No pressure, huh?” Jace teases, covering his mouth with his fist. “Just confirming that none of us missed a memo about forced proximity.”
“She chose where she wanted to be.” I shoot him a dirty look when he laughs at me. “Okay, maybe she didn’t choose to be here without our influence, but I didn’t pressure her to sleep with me.”
Jace nods once. “Good. Just making sure you understand your book tropes. Occasionally, women speak in those. And judging by the number of books on the shelves in her apartment, she’s got a running list for us.”
Kieran’s mouth curves. “So. You fell first. That’s a trope, you know?”
“I didn’t fall,” I grumble into my steaming mug of coffee.
“Sure.” Jace grins. “You cracked the floor when you landed. It’s right over there.”
“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” I mutter, rounding the island to sit at the table.
Jace laughs, coming over to clap me on the shoulder.
There’s no jealousy in him or Kieran, and that settles something in me, relieves a weight on my shoulders.
They didn’t have a problem sharing before, but I wasn’t a part of that relationship.
Still, this feels familiar, like it was always a possibility, and now we’re just ticking it off the list. Marking it as the best choice.
The conversation drifts, unforced subject changes ranging from the alarm at the office to the secretary they don’t really like. Kieran pours more coffee and leaves the cabinets open. Jace gets up to shut them.
No one asks what last night means or where this goes. We’re not really like that… trying to assign labels where they aren’t required. We don’t need to explain to each other that these are three separate relationships that will move in parallel.
But we should maybe talk to Eris about that…
Soft footsteps seem to echo behind me, and we all turn as if compelled.
Eris appears as suddenly as the sound she makes, silent until she wants to gain attention.
She’s wearing my shirt like she’s been doing it for years, messy raven hair framing her face in a rare instance of not being tied up.
Molten silver eyes track our movements, each breath we take.
I’ve never seen her look this predatory before, not openly anyway.
“Morning,” she says, entirely unbothered by the fact that three men just went quiet at once.
Kieran recovers first. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Jace blinks. Actually, just blinks like he’s lagging… And I kick him in the shin under the table to jumpstart his brain. He glares at me, then quickly adjusts his expression as he turns back to our resident goddess.
“So…” Eris leans against the counter, glancing between us in amusement. “Am I still a guest with breakfast privileges, or should I cook for myself?”
Jace grins. “We don’t usually let guests near the stove.”
“Good,” she says, accepting the mug Kieran hands her. “But I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, so I’m not sure how long I can keep that guest title.”
Something audibly clicks inside my mind. Not a lock, but the sound two metal pieces make when they slot into place perfectly.
Anytime soon?
She’s not leaving at all. We’ve already decided that.
We know this isn’t a competition or a conquest…
It’s a shift onto a steady foundation.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I need to plan for an impending fallout.
Honestly, I think we’re already standing in it.