Chapter 39
W hy do you care? It's such a simple question. It should be easy to answer—right?
"Because," I start, but my mouth closes of its own volition. "I—Because—"
"He's right." Jax rises from his seat. "So what if this is weird?"
"It's more than weird. It's…"
"Amazing," Jax says.
"Fantastic," Adam agrees.
Bees hum under my skin. "It's wrong ."
That's what everyone would say.
Deandre lets his arms fall to his sides, his palms open. "Well, I don't care if it is. This—you— us . It's he best damn thing that ever happened to me."
Cayden smiles. "What he said."
"It's right ," Sergio says. "We know you feel the same."
God, how I want to believe him. "But…"
"But nothing." Sergio shakes his head. "No one else matters. Not your dad who left you alone on that mountain with your grandmother's ghost. Not random people in town you don't even know. Just you and us, and we're happy."
"We were…"
"We will be again," Sergio says.
"Can you accept happiness?" Cayden asks.
Deandre takes a step closer. "Will you trust us?"
And that's what it all boils down to, isn't it? I let doubt creep into my heart because I'd been burned before. Trust isn't easy for me to give.
But these men have earned it. They've taken me in and taken care of me. They want to give me what I need—be that a chore list or enough sex to make me blind…or all the love in their hearts.
They want to take me home and keep me. They don't care what the rest of society would think.
For a minute, my vision spins out.
As if from a long, long way away, I stare down at this motley crew squeezed into my tiny living room. They eat up every available inch, crowding the space with their burly frames.
It's not just that the place is too small for them, though.
It's that they don't fit . They don't match the plain white walls or the delicately patterned furniture, and Jesus—I can't imagine these guys using coasters or putting flowers in fussy little vases.
But does that matter? Do they need to fit in this space—the one I decorated based on pictures out of magazines? Not because I truly loved the look, but because I thought it was how a house was supposed to be?
Did I ever fit in it, either?
Did I ever fit in the life I was so desperate to save?
Clarity dawns on me.
I was just going through the motions the entire time I lived here.
I taught because it was the only thing I could think to do with my degree, and I loved my students, but I never had the fire for helping them with their decoupage.
I dated Richard because he wanted me. I had fucking coasters and vases because you were supposed to, but none of it mattered to me.
My vision fuzzes out before returning, sharper than ever before. A new kind of focus settles over me.
I laugh out loud, hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.
And it hits me. "We can do whatever we want."
Cayden looks like he's ready to either have me committed or hug the shit out of me. I'm not sure which is the better response. Rubbing my knee, he smiles. "We really can."
"You want to keep me."
Deandre nods. "Damn right we do, baby girl."
"And you don't care what anyone else thinks."
Sergio says, "Not a soul outside this room could talk us out of loving you."
Adam murmurs his agreement, while Jax rises from his chair and comes over to me. He slots himself in at Cayden's side, and once upon a time, I might have read his crooked smile for scorn.
Not now, though.
"So what do you say?" He runs his fingers through my hair. "Wanna shack up with all of us?"
Another laugh bubbles in my throat. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but they're the very, very best kind.
I lean forward, Jax's hand still in my hair. I let my brow rest against Cayden's. I stare into his eyes.
The other guys come to join us. I feel Deandre's strength and Adam's brightness and Sergio's quiet insight. I feel all of them.
And it's so easy. God, I don't know why I was making it so hard.
Edging forward, I press my lips once, softly, to Cayden's. Then I look up at all my men in turn.
"You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."