Chapter 15
Cole
Theo’s been quiet all shift.
Not unusual. The kid gets in his head sometimes, especially after tough calls. But we haven’t had any tough calls today. Just routine checks, one false alarm at the high school, and equipment maintenance that took up most of the afternoon.
Still, he’s been off. Distracted. Going through the motions but not really present.
I recognize it because I’ve been doing the same thing.
“You good?” I ask him while we’re restocking the ambulance.
“Yeah. Fine.” He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps counting gauze packs like it’s the most important task in the world.
“You’ve counted that box three times.”
“Making sure we have enough.”
“We always have enough. Garcia orders extra.” I close the cabinet door. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just tired.”
He’s lying. I can tell because Theo’s a terrible liar. His tells are obvious—won’t make eye contact, talks too fast, fidgets with whatever’s in his hands.
But I don’t push. Because if he’s lying about why he’s distracted, I’m guessing it’s the same reason I’ve been distracted.
Rachel.
The shift ends at six. We change out of our turnout gear in silence, grab our stuff from the lockers, and head out to my truck.
The drive home takes fifteen minutes. Theo spends the first ten staring out the window.
Finally, he speaks. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“If you had feelings for someone you shouldn’t have feelings for, would you act on it? Or would you walk away because it’s the right thing to do?”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Depends on the situation.”
“What if acting on it could blow up your entire life? Ruin friendships. Complicate everything.”
“Still depends.” I glance at him. “You want to tell me what this is actually about?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
We pull into the driveway. Marco’s truck is already there, which means he’s home early. Usually, he works until seven or eight, buried in case files and evidence reports.
Inside, Marco’s sitting on the couch with a beer, still in his work clothes. He looks up when we walk in.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Theo and I exchange a glance.
“About what?” I ask.
“Rachel.” Marco sets his beer down. “Sit.”
It’s not a request.
I drop my bag by the door and sit in the armchair. Theo takes the other end of the couch, as far from Marco as possible without being obvious about it.
Marco looks at both of us. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want honest answers. Are you both involved with Rachel Morgan?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Theo’s face goes red. I keep my expression neutral, but my chest tightens.
“Involved how?” I ask carefully.
“Don’t play dumb, Archer. You know exactly what I’m asking.” Marco leans forward. “I saw how you both acted at that breakfast. I saw you at the barbecue. I’ve watched you make excuses to stop by Jake’s house. I’m not blind.”
“It’s complicated,” Theo says quietly.
“No kidding.” Marco crosses his arms. “So, I’ll ask again. Are you both sleeping with her?”
I could lie. Should lie. But Marco already knows, and lying won’t change anything.
“Yes,” I say.
Theo nods. “Yeah.”
Marco exhales slowly. “Does she know about both of you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We haven’t talked about it.”
“Jesus.” Marco runs a hand through his hair. “And neither of you thought to mention this to each other? You just both went for it and hoped for the best?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Theo says. “It just… happened.”
“Things don’t just happen. You make choices.” Marco stands up and paces to the window. “Does Jake know?”
“No,” I say immediately. “And he can’t know. Not yet.”
“Not yet? You think there’s a good time to tell your best friend you’re both sleeping with his sister?”
“I don’t know what I think.” I lean back in the chair. “I know I have feelings for her. I know I can’t stop thinking about her. I know this is a mess, but I can’t walk away.”
“Why not?”
“Because life’s too short.” The words come out harsher than I intended.
“My dad died when I was eighteen. One minute, he was fine; the next, he was gone. No warning. No second chances.” I meet Marco’s eyes.
“I learned that day that life is fragile. You don’t get do-overs.
You don’t get to play it safe and hope things work out.
You fight for what matters while you still can. ”
“And Rachel matters?”
“Yeah. She does.”
Marco turns to Theo. “What about you?”
“Same. She matters.” Theo’s voice is steady despite the color still in his cheeks. “I know it’s complicated. I know Jake’s going to lose it when he finds out. But I’m not walking away either.”
Marco’s quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at nothing.
Then he says, “I have feelings for her too.”
Theo’s head snaps up. “What?”
“You heard me.” Marco doesn’t turn around. “I’ve been trying not to. Been telling myself she’s off-limits, that it’s unprofessional, that I don’t need the complication. But I can’t stop thinking about her either.”
I wasn’t expecting that—Marco’s good at keeping his cards close. But the way he’s standing there—shoulders tight, jaw set—tells me he’s been fighting this just as hard as we have.
“So, what do we do?” Theo asks. “All three of us just… what? Compete for her? Make her choose?”
“No.” I stand up. “We don’t compete. We’ve done that before, and it didn’t end well.”
Marco finally turns around. “Samantha.”
Just her name is enough to bring back memories I’d rather forget.
“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t pursue Rachel,” Theo asks.
“I’m saying we shouldn’t compete.” I sit back down. “If we do this—if all three of us have feelings for her—then we need to be on the same page. No games. No, trying to edge each other out. We’re honest with her and with each other.”
“And if she only wants one of us?” Theo asks.
“Then we will respect that,” Marco says. “But we don’t tear each other apart in the process. We don’t let this destroy our friendship.”
“What about Jake?” I ask. “He’s going to find out eventually.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” Marco picks up his beer. “Right now, the priority is making sure we don’t repeat the Samantha situation. No competition. No jealousy. If Rachel wants all of us, we figure it out together. If she only wants one, the others back off. Clean. Simple.”
“Nothing about this is simple,” Theo mutters.
“No. But it’s better than the alternative.” Marco looks at both of us. “So, are we agreed? We’re honest with each other. We don’t compete. We let Rachel decide what she wants without us trying to influence her choice.”
I nod. “Agreed.”
Theo hesitates, then nods too. “Agreed.”
“Good.” Marco drains his beer. “Now someone needs to actually talk to her about this. Because right now, she probably thinks she’s doing something wrong by having feelings for more than one person.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I say.
“We should all talk to her,” Theo corrects. “Together. So, there’s no confusion.”
“That’s going to be one hell of a conversation,” Marco says dryly.
“Yeah, well. Nothing about this is normal.” I stand up. “But I’d rather have the awkward conversation than lose her because we’re too scared to be honest.”
Marco and Theo both nod.
We stand there in the living room, three men who’ve been friends for years, now bound together by feelings for the same woman.
It should feel wrong. Competitive. Like we’re setting ourselves up for disaster.
But it doesn’t.
It feels like we’re finally acknowledging what’s been building for weeks. Like we’re choosing honesty over pretense. Like maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out without destroying everything in the process.
“One more thing,” Marco says as I’m heading toward my room. “Jake can’t know. Not until we figure out what’s happening with Rachel. If he finds out before we’ve had a chance to talk to her, this whole thing blows up.”
“Agreed.” I pause at the doorway. “He’s leaving for Alaska in six weeks. Maybe we wait until after he’s gone to have the conversation with her.”
“That gives us time to figure out how to approach it,” Theo says.
Marco nods. “And time for Rachel to deal with her job situation and Derek, without us adding more stress.”
It’s a plan. Not a great one, but better than stumbling forward blind.
I head to my room and close the door.
My dad used to say that the biggest regrets in life aren’t the things you do—they’re the things you don’t do. The chances you don’t take. The words you don’t say.
He died before he got to see me graduate from high school. Before he got to meet any woman, I brought home. Before he got to tell me, he was proud.
I spent years wishing I’d said more to him. Told him what he meant to me. Made sure he knew I loved him before it was too late.
I’m not making that mistake again.
Rachel matters. She matters more than I’m comfortable admitting—more than makes sense given how complicated this situation is.
But life’s too short to walk away from something real just because it’s messy.
And whatever this is—whatever’s building between the three of us and Rachel—it feels real.
Now we just have to figure out how to make it work.