Chapter 27
Atlas
Hugh stoked the wood in the fireplace, sending sparks up through the chimney. Christmas jazz music played softly in the background as I hung a glass Santa ornament on the tree. Once the fire was roaring again, he wore his rug thin as he paced for the hundredth time.
“I don’t fucking get it!” he finally said, tossing his hands into the air. “Why won’t he answer me?”
“I also texted him, but he’s ignoring me, too.”
He finally sat and sipped his bourbon, watching me.
Mrs. Peach was wearing the cutest Fair Isle sweater in red and white, batting a low-hanging ornament.
The scent of pine, burning wood, and the roast cooking in the oven helped to give the festive vibe.
I wore a red sweater I’d recently purchased, the wide neck causing it to slip off my shoulder.
My earrings were tiny Christmas ornaments.
Not only did I want to be festive, but I wanted to be sexy for Hugh and Linden tonight.
Except there was no Linden. He was supposed to be there to help with the decorations.
Apparently, Hugh and Linden got together each year and decorated each other’s homes.
It was a reflection of their close friendship.
Hugh had been frowning, and you could practically taste the tension in the air.
I climbed the stepladder and placed another ornament higher on the tree. Then I glanced back at Hugh, winked, and gave him a coy smile, but nothing replaced his frown. In fact, it only deepened.
“How does that look?”
He didn’t even look at the tree. “It looks good, precious.”
I stepped down with a sigh, walked over to him, and straddled his lap. He still held his tumbler full of amber liquor as his free hand slipped underneath my sweater, his fingers grazing along my stomach.
“I worship your skin,” he said. “I can’t stop touching it.” His thumb rolled over my nipple, turning it hard and making me shudder.
“And it worships you.” I worship you, but I didn’t say that. “What’s wrong, darling?”
His hand came to rest on my thigh. “Did you notice something off with Linden the other night?”
“Yes. He seemed a little bit out of sorts. Not his usual self.”
“Thank you. That’s surprisingly validating. I thought I was going crazy. It’s hard to tell with Linden sometimes because he’s always so easy-going and full of smiles.”
“But he’d tell us if something’s wrong, right?”
“I used to think so, but now I’m having doubts. In all our years of being practically brothers, he’s never snapped at me. He’s the most patient person I know. Then yesterday, he wouldn’t answer his texts.”
That was the first time I’d heard about that.
Hugh reached for one of my curls and fingered it. “I’m worried.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of Linden’s mood shift. He said he was just off that night. That nothing was really wrong between the three of us. But was that true? Like him, I was starting to have doubts, too.
“Yeah, his not answering is weird on top of everything else.”
He took a long sip of his bourbon, coughed, and set his glass down on the side table.
That little niggling thought tingled in my brain that Linden was falling for Hugh.
Or had already fallen for him. The heated looks he gave his cousin had been growing for the past few months.
To me, it made sense that feelings would happen between them with the amount of time they spent together having sex, even if it wasn’t with each other.
How could it not? But I didn’t know how to broach the subject, especially since Hugh had made the boundaries clear that they were only cousins, implying there would be nothing more between them.
But he’d been watching Linden as well. Of course, boundaries can change over time.
The biggest question to ask ran deeper. “Hugh-baby?”
“Hmm?” he replied distractedly.
“What happens if Linden wants to back out of this?”
Hugh stiffened underneath me, and his eyes landed hard on mine. “Back out? Do you think he wants to back out? Why would you think that? Is there a reason? Did he say something? Is that why he’s not talking to us? Fuck…”
I raised my hands in defense. “I have no idea. The thought just crossed my mind that it could be a possible reason, and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Think about it. If he leaves the relationship, what happens to me?
What happens to you? What happens to my job or yours?
When we started this, we didn’t really talk in depth about potential consequences, other than that it was a risk to all our jobs.
We agreed there was a chance feelings would happen from me, but that was it. ”
“But he’d tell me.”
I shrugged. “Not if he’s still pondering what to do. I mean, it could be nothing. Maybe he’s just got a cold, for all we know.”
Hugh growled, lifted me by my pits, and sat me on the sofa.
Then he stood and paced. “No, you’re right.
That makes complete sense now that you’ve said it, especially with him snapping at me for not understanding that he wanted to be fucked once in a while, too.
And that right there shows how selfish I’ve been.
It’s always been about me and my needs. He just goes along for the ride without complaint, leaving me to believe that he’s just fine with how things were. But he’s not, is he?”
“Maybe. But if it’s your fault, then Linden is just as much at fault for not communicating how he feels and that he’d like to bottom once in a while. He could’ve expressed his own desires.”
Hugh continued to pace as his hands wrecked his hair.
“He wants out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What should I do? I don’t want him to leave.
We have a good thing going. I thought this relationship was going well.
I’m over his fucking silence! I’m calling him, and if he refuses to answer, I’m going over to his place to confront him.
He pulled out his phone, and I yelled, “Wait!”
“What?! No waiting. We need to talk.”
“We do need to talk. But what if Linden wants time to process?” I knew myself.
Whenever I struggled with something, I liked to take my time assessing and figuring out how I wanted to handle a given scenario, just like the love I have for these two men, but that would have to wait until we fixed things with Linden.
“I wouldn’t interrupt that. I know it hurts.
Hell, I’m hurt, too, and I don’t want us to end.
I…” I wasn’t even one hundred percent certain Linden wanted to leave.
Only my instincts were telling me that. “I don’t think Linden would just ghost us and not say a word, right?
I’m sure he’s got his reasons for not responding yet. ”
Hugh shoved his phone into his pocket and threw his hands in the air. “Well, how long am I supposed to fucking wait?”
A plan began forming in my head, so I stood, faced him, and placed my hands on his chest to calm him. “Let me talk to him.”
He huffed at me. “But you just said to let him process.”
“Yes, handsome, and I’m going to give him some time. Then I’m going to invite him to lunch and see if I can help him open up without pressuring him. You can be… demanding.”
His head dropped, and his shoulders sagged. “I don’t understand. We’ve been doing this for over fifteen years. Why now?”
Come on, Hugh. Use that smart brain of yours. Maybe he couldn’t see it because he was too close to Linden. He was on the inside. Then again, I could be completely off base. The only way to know for sure was to confront Linden.
“Give me a chance to talk to him,” I said.
Hugh gathered me in his arms and held me close. “Okay. Please fix this. I’m begging you. I can’t be without Linden.”
“I’ll do my best, darling.”
I bided my time, waiting for the weekend to approach Linden.
Work had been super awkward. Hugh had been stewing in frustration and losing patience by the second.
It took all my power to keep him calm. Linden outwardly appeared his usual self, minus the flirtations.
He still put on a smile, still joked, but there was an element missing, and I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
Even worse, this was the first time since I worked at Cross Corp that we didn’t fool around in the office.
We didn’t do it all the time, but we did at least once a week.
Usually, they couldn’t keep their hands off me, and I missed it.
In fact, we hadn’t fooled around at all since that night at The Backdoor Club.
Hugh and I refused to be intimate without Linden, which I was completely fine with.
I wanted Linden with us. But I missed the three of us together.
I realized some ‘V’ polyamorous relationships could really work and thrive.
But it clearly wasn’t for us. There were some other unresolved feelings that weren’t being shared or reciprocated.
We would fail if I didn’t fix things between us, and I’d do my best to bring us all back together again.
But first, Linden needed to get his head out of his ass and tell Hugh how he felt.
I pulled up in front of Linden’s house on Saturday. It was late morning, so he’d probably be in his workshop.
When I stepped out of the car, I walked around to the passenger side and pulled out a brown bag full of Greek food I’d made. There was no better way to communicate than around good food and a full stomach. Mama taught me that.
Carrying the bag with one arm, I rang Linden’s doorbell. He didn’t answer, but perhaps he didn’t hear his ringer. I knew he was home because his black Beamer was sitting pretty in the driveway. I rang once more.
“Come on. We need to talk, gorgeous. And I’m freezing my nuts off,” I mumbled to myself.
A minute later, the door unlocked and opened. Linden was covered in sawdust, wearing his apron and his worn clothes, which he didn’t care were ruined.
“Atlas. What’s going on? Everything okay?”
I handed him the bag of food. “I’ve brought lunch, which I made myself. And no, darling, things are not fine.”