Chapter 38 #2
The waterfall spills over dark stone in a steady, gliding sheet, feeding into a still lake that catches the sunlight and throws it back in fractured color.
Pines and aspens ring the water, mist hanging low, softening everything, like the place exists slightly apart from the rest of the world.
Birds move through the trees, light flickering through them, rainbows forming in the spray where the water hits below.
“Okay…” Luke exhales. “Yeah. This was worth it.”
I don’t answer him.
I’m watching Sierra.
The way her expression changes—softens, opens. The tension she’s been carrying eases in real time, her shoulders dropping as she steps toward the water.
She kneels at the edge, trailing her fingers through the surface, watching the ripples spread.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispers.
They all stare, taking it in.
“Am I really seeing this?” Luke murmurs. “Or have I somehow died and gone to heaven?”
I don’t respond.
I’m watching Sierra.
That look—that’s what I wanted.
Wonder. Awe.
Her lips part as she breathes in, stepping closer, fingertips brushing the cool flow.
“It’s beautiful,” she says again, softer this time.
She’s beautiful. She’s perfect, and ever since she told me she loved me—loved us—I haven’t been able to think about anything else.
I love her too. More than I’ve managed to say. Maybe this… maybe this is how I show her.
“Has this been here the whole time?” Reid asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I didn’t tell anyone. Too many people ruin a place like this. The water is… sacred.”
“It is?”
“My grandmother used to tell me stories. Her grandmother said warriors came here after battle. Said it washed something out of them. Left them calmer.”
“Oh, so it’s full of ancient blood and fecal matter. Lovely,” Luke mutters.
The explanation wasn’t for him.
Reid understands. I see it the second our eyes meet. Something in him eases.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “This place… it’s exactly what I needed.”
I nod. If this helps him carry things a little lighter, it’s worth it.
Luke wouldn’t get it.
But Reid… Reid carries too much.
We won’t be whole until he sets some of it down.
“It’s part of my family’s land,” I add. “Been ours for generations.”
“It’s very special,” Sierra says. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
I shake my head slightly.
“It was mine.”
“What?” Luke frowns.
“It’s ours now,” I say. “All four of us.”
Sierra studies me for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She holds my gaze, then nods slowly.
“Yes,” she says. “Ours.”
Then her expression shifts—lighter now, brighter.
“I think we should all go for a swim,” she says—and then she pulls her shirt off, just like that, scrambling every coherent thought I have. “Well, boys?”
By the time I get my shirt off, she’s already stripped the rest of the way, stepping carefully over the rocks.
“God… that’s cold,” she laughs, dipping a foot into the water.
Sunlight glints off the surface, scattering like diamonds.
I’m struggling to breathe.
Luke’s gone still.
Reid’s gaze darkens.
None of us move as she steps out onto a rock, standing there completely bare, light tracing every line of her body.
Then she winks—and dives.
We look at each other.
Then we move.
Clothes gone. Into the water after her.
Luke reaches her first, pulling her in, her laugh cut short as he kisses her.
I come in behind her, hands settling at her waist, my mouth finding her neck, that place that makes her shiver.
Reid joins us, steady, grounding, his presence slotting into place like it always does.
We slow without needing to say it.
This isn’t about urgency.
Not this time.
It’s something else.
An acknowledgment.
A line crossed that we’re not stepping back from.
When she told us she loved us, it shifted everything. I thought I’d have time to prove it, to show her what we could be. I had words ready.
But when she said it, I had nothing.
I don’t know if I said enough.
But I will.
We have time.
The rest—we’ll figure it out.
Right now, it’s just this.
Reid’s hand moves between her thighs, drawing a breathless gasp from her.
I lift her slightly, water sliding from her skin, my mouth closing over her breast, drawing her in slowly until she cries out.
Behind her, Luke’s hands move lower, teasing, coaxing her deeper. I feel the hesitation—and then the way she softens as he murmurs to her.
The sight of it, the feel of it—all of us around her—sends a slow, steady heat through me.
Not just wanting her.
Wanting this.
All of us. Together.
There’s more waiting for us. I can feel it.
But we’re not rushing.
For now, we move slowly, letting the moment stretch, the fading light settling around us like the beginning of something we’re only just starting to understand.
Sierra turns, her long blonde hair slick against her neck, clinging to the curve of her skin. As she faces me, her arms come around my shoulders, her eyes meeting mine with a certainty that still catches me off guard.
Her lips find mine.
Soft at first, testing, then deepening, her mouth opening against mine as she pulls herself closer.
I feel her body press against me, the heat of her skin, the hard peaks of her nipples brushing my chest as my pulse kicks harder, faster, my hands tightening instinctively on her waist.
She shifts, buoyed by the water, wrapping her legs around me, drawing herself into position, her breath warm against my mouth.
Then she lowers herself onto me.
The sensation hits hard, bright and overwhelming, stealing the breath from my lungs as I push up into her, filling her as she gasps, her body tightening around me.
She lifts slightly, then sinks back down, slower this time, adjusting, finding the angle, the rhythm that works, her movements controlled now.
Each rise and fall pulls another reaction from both of us, her breath catching, mine breaking as I fight to hold onto control.
Then hands are on her again.
Luke.
He turns her smoothly, guiding her away from me, and for a second I resist it instinctively—then let go.
This isn’t about holding on.
It’s about sharing.
She flows into him easily, her body shifting, adapting, her legs tightening around him as he takes her weight, his hands firm at her hips.
He sets the pace, slower than I expect, grounding her, letting the moment build.
I stay close, my hands still on her, my mouth finding her shoulder, her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling every reaction she gives.
Reid moves in next, steady as always, his presence anchoring the moment.
She turns to him, drawn in, their mouths meeting, softer at first, then deeper, more urgent, her body responding to him more openly now.
The water shifts around them as she moves, rising and falling against him, her head tipping back, her breath breaking into sharp, uneven sounds.
And then she reaches for me again.
Her hand finds me, wraps around me, her touch firm, confident, drawing a reaction out of me I can’t contain.
Everything tightens.
Builds.
The sight of them together, the feel of her hand on me, the way all of us are still connected—it pushes me further, faster than I expect.
Luke’s breathing changes behind her, rougher now.
Reid’s grip tightens.
Sierra’s body stiffens between them, her movements losing rhythm as the sensation builds too high, too fast.
It hits all at once.
Luke first, his body locking as he reaches his peak.
Then Reid, his control breaking as he follows.
And I go with them.
The release tears through me, sharp and overwhelming, dragging everything else out of me with it until there’s nothing left but the moment itself.
For a few seconds, everything disappears.
No tension. No past. No waiting.
Just this.
Then slowly, it fades.
The sound of the water comes back.
The weight of our bodies.
The feel of each other.
We stay close, none of us moving away, limbs tangled, breathing heavy, holding onto each other as the moment settles around us.
Not separate anymore.
Not the way we were before.
Something shared.
Something real.