2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Wrenley
I flop in the chair next to Margot like I’ve just come back from war. Without a word, I grab the pitcher of margaritas and pour a glass. Heavy. Tequila sloshes over the rim as I bring it to my lips and down half of it like its water.
Margot stares at me, wide-eyed. “Okay… what the hell was that about?”
I set the glass down hard on the table. “He told me he’s in love with me.”
She blinks. I nod slowly. “And Max knows. Apparently, he’s the one who told Reaper he needed to tell me.”
Margot damn near drops her own glass. “Holy shit.”
“Yep.”
There’s a pause. Then, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, she reaches into her bra and pulls out a joint, already rolled. “We definitely need this.”
I raise an eyebrow, but don’t protest when she sparks it up, takes a deep inhale, and hands it to me.
As the smoke curls up into the early evening sky, she exhales slowly. “It took him long enough to say it.”
I turn to look at her. “What do you mean?”
She gives me a look. “Wren, if you seriously haven’t noticed the way he looks at you, then you’ve been completely checked out. Like—unplugged from reality.”
I pass the joint back. “I just assumed it was a harmless crush, some teasing, a little flirting. You know how we all are.
Margot laughs, eyes sparkling. “Girl… Riot says Reaper’s pierced.”
I nearly choke. “What?!”
“Yep,” she says proudly, puffing and passing again. “I wonder what that is like?”
I stare at her, the joint halfway to my lips. “You’re the horniest person I’ve ever met.”
“And you love me for it.”
We both dissolve into laughter, sipping our margaritas and letting the buzz sink in.
After a minute, I exhale and look over at her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“How does it work… you know. With you, Riot, and Elias?”
She tilts her head, thoughtful. “It just—does. It’s messy sometimes, sure. But it’s real. They both love me. I love them. And we’re a team. No weird jealousy shit, no drama. We talk. A lot.”
I nod, chewing on her words. Then softly, “I think I’m entertaining the idea.”
She smiles, genuine and warm. “You should. Just make sure you talk to Max first.”
“I know,” I say, sipping my drink. “I need to. I will. I just… needed a second not to freak out first.”
Margot laughs again, clinking her glass against mine. “To not freaking out.”
I toast her weakly. “To maybe being in love with two men who already love me.”
She winks. “Welcome to the club.”
We pass the joint again, sinking deeper into the garden’s hush, the music from inside barely drifting out. The tequila’s warm in my veins. My thoughts are even warmer. And for the first time in a long time, I wonder what it might feel like to let myself have it all.
Max steps out onto the patio, the door creaking slightly as it closes behind him. He spots us instantly, his eyes locking with mine, and a smile spreads across his face. That smile. The one he knows drives me crazy. Cocky, confident, a little crooked.
I narrow my eyes at him playfully. “So… you’ve exposed some big revelations today.”
He walks over slowly, hands sliding into his pockets like he has all the time in the world. “Yeah,” he says, voice low and smooth. “It’s about damn time, too.”
I can’t help the little giggle that escapes me. The tequila probably isn’t helping. “Well, I need to know how you feel about this.”
Margot, God bless her, is perched on the edge of her seat beside me, eyes wide, lips sealed, clearly living for the drama but trying very hard not to interfere. Max glances her way and then looks at me like he’s waiting for her to leave.
I roll my eyes. “She already knows everything.”
He exhales a laugh. “Of course she does.”
Margot grins but wisely keeps her mouth shut.
“Well then,” Max says, stepping a little closer. “Let’s talk.”
There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “Yes, I know he loves you. I’ve known for a long time now. And I have a strong feeling,” he says, locking eyes with me, “That you love him too.”
My cheeks grow warm. It might be from the tequila. Might not be. “How do you feel about that?”
He shrugs, casual but not dismissive. “I like the idea.”
I blink. “You really want to share me?”
He moves a little closer, voice softer. “Reaper’s the only person I’d ever feel one hundred percent secure sharing you with. He loves you. I trust him. And I know you.”
I take a shaky breath. And then, very quietly, like the words might shatter if I say them too loudly, I murmur. “I do have feelings for him.”
Max nods, no hesitation in his eyes. “Then let’s go talk with Reaper. We’ll need ground rules for this to work.”
I nod and take the hand he offers, letting him pull me to my feet.
Before we walk off, I glance back at Margot, who’s practically vibrating with excitement.
Her grin is obscene. She clutches her chest dramatically.
“This is the hottest shit I’ve ever witnessed.
I’m going to need a cold shower and a cigarette just from watching. ”
I groan. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m a cheerleader for chaos.” She sing-songs.
Max shakes his head, grinning, and gently guides me toward the house. Just like that we’re going to figure out how to love… differently. Together.
Inside, the air is cooler, but my skin is warm from tequila, nerves, and the weight of what we’re about to do.
I catch movement at the top of the stairs, Reaper.
He’s coming down slowly, every step more hesitant than the last. He sees us and freezes like a guilty dog that got caught in the trash.
His jaw tightens. He looks like he wants to bolt, disappear before I can say anything. Not today.
“You,” I say, pointing at him with zero hesitation. “Sit.”
I point at a spot on the couch and Reaper, six-foot-seven, former Marine Reaper, nods like a scolded schoolboy and walks into the living room. He drops onto the couch beside Max, who’s already settled, casual and calm, like this is just any other evening. I stay standing, facing them both.
My hands are trembling slightly. I rub them together, grounding myself. “Okay,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Max… I love you.”
He smiles. That soft, warm one I know so well. The one that says. I know, Sparrow.
I turn to Reaper. “And Reaper…” my voice catches, just for a second. His eyes are locked onto mine like I’m oxygen and he hasn’t taken a breath since I walked in. “I think I love you, too.”
The room goes still. Max doesn’t flinch. Reaper blinks once, slow and careful, like he’s afraid this is a dream. “So,” I say, taking a deep breath, “How do we make this work?”
They look at each other, one of the silent conversations that only people who’ve bled together can have.
Reaper is still staring at me like he’s trying to memorize every freckle on my face.
My heart races, but it’s not fear. It’s adrenaline.
Possibility. Hope. And just like that, the three of us are standing at the edge of something dangerous, untraditional, and messy as hell.
It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever encountered.