Chapter Four
Islide onto one of the tall barstools at the kitchen island and press my palms flat against the marble, staring at my blurry reflection in the polished surface. My heart is beating so hard I feel dizzy.
Ash wanders into the kitchen a couple of minutes later. He looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck, his hair slightly ruffled. He sets a ceramic mug down in front of me. Steam curls off the surface, smelling like peppermint and chamomile.
“I’m sorry,” Ash sighs, sliding into the stool across from me. “Ryker has no filter. He doesn’t know how to ease into things. I wanted to strangle him the second he grabbed you.”
I wrap both hands around the mug. The heat seeps into my cold fingers, grounding me a little. “So he wasn’t joking.”
“No,” Ash says softly. “He wasn’t. But Jax, listen. Nothing has changed. I didn’t bring you here as some kind of trap. You have a place to stay here for as long as you need to get on your feet. Even if you look me in the eye right now and tell me to go to hell.”
I stare at Ash. He looks so earnest, his brown eyes full of concern. But I can’t let it go. The elephant is sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.
“But you thought about it.”
Ash pauses. He doesn’t look away or flinch. “Yes.”
“When?”
“When I first saw you,” Ash admits, his voice steady.
“You’re cute, Jax. I’d be a liar if I claimed the thought didn’t cross my mind.
But I wouldn’t have brought it up. Not while you’re stranded with two dollars to your name.
You can’t make a real choice when you feel cornered, and I never want you to feel cornered. ”
My face heats up. I duck my head, bringing the mug to my lips and taking a long sip to hide the blush creeping up my neck. Cute. He thinks I’m cute. A guy thinks I’m cute, and instead of being grossed out, my stomach flutters.
“Seriously,” Ash says, leaning forward on his elbows. “If this isn’t something you want, just say the word. We drop it. We never talk about it again. You sleep on the couch, we help you find a job, you save up, and you move out whenever you’re ready. No strings.”
I nod, keeping my eyes on the ripples in my tea. Ash goes quiet, giving me space, and my brain spins out of control.
Just say the word. Just say no. That’s the easy thing to do.
But I don’t say it.
I think about the last four days, about waking up soaked to the bone in the cold rainwater.
I think about the guy at the shelter who pulled a knife over a spot in line for a lukewarm bowl of soup.
I think about my backpack, gone, along with the only clean underwear I owned, leaving me shivering in the fetal position praying I wouldn’t die on the street.
I was so close to giving up. I was this close to calling my dad, begging for a bus ticket back to Utah, and throwing myself to the mercy of the church elders.
I would’ve spent the rest of my life trapped in a rigid, suffocating box, marrying some girl I didn’t love, pretending to be someone I’m not.
And now I’m sitting in a penthouse in Seattle, wearing clothes softer than anything I’ve ever touched, drinking expensive tea. Because a guy who thinks I’m cute picked me up off the pavement.
I’m not gay.
I’ve said that to myself a million times.
I thought it was a fact. Established and accepted.
But sitting here right now, I have to wonder if it was just another thing my parents drilled into my head until I believed it.
Because if I’m so straight, why was I staring at Ash’s lips earlier while he was laughing?
Why did my chest get tight when he stood behind me at the stove, his hands guiding mine over the cutting board?
And Ryker. The guy practically kidnapped me down the hallway.
He shoved me into a wall. It should’ve been terrifying.
It was terrifying. But when his hand wrapped around my arm, when he pressed my chest flat against the drywall and leaned in close enough for me to smell him, my pulse didn’t just spike from fear.
There was this spark of adrenaline that felt suspiciously like heat.
I’ve never felt it before, not with any of the girls I briefly dated in high school or the flings I had in college just to keep up appearances.
When you take away all the weirdness, it’s not that complicated.
It’s physical. They want a toy. A pet. Someone to share.
I’ve heard of sugar baby arrangements. People do this kind of thing all the time, right?
It doesn’t have to mean anything deeper than two …
well, three guys getting off. Four, counting me.
I can do this.
Maybe.
I mean, what’s the alternative? Turning it down out of some misplaced Mormon guilt I don’t even believe in anymore? Going back to sleeping on the street?
The front door beeps again as I’m still turning the whole insane idea over in my head. Ash perks up, looking down the hallway. Heavy, casual footsteps hit the hardwood floors. I look up just as a tall, dark-haired guy rounds the corner into the kitchen.
He’s wearing a baseball cap turned backward over messy black hair, a thick gym bag slung over one broad shoulder.
An athletic, solid build fills out his gray t-shirt, outlining the muscle underneath.
He stops when he spots me sitting at the island, his dark brown eyes lifting in surprise, but then he breaks into an easy, disarming grin.
“Aiden, this is Jaxon,” Ash says, gesturing between us. “He’s staying with us for a bit.”
Aiden drops his gym bag by the counter. It hits the floor with a heavy thud, and he walks right over to stick his hand out. “Nice to meet you, man.”
I reach out and grip his hand. His handshake is firm and friendly, his palm a little rough with calluses like he spends a lot of time lifting weights or swinging a bat.
I immediately feel some of the tight knots in my chest loosen up.
Aiden is warm and open, carrying a playful confidence that feels inviting rather than intimidating.
He’s undeniably good-looking too. I catch myself staring at the strong line of his jaw and the way his biceps flex when he pulls his hand back. I quickly look away.
Aiden walks around the island and pulls the massive stainless-steel fridge open to grab a bottle of water. He leans his hip against the counter, cracking the cap open. His eyes flick between Ash and me with amused curiosity. “So what’d I miss?”
Ash sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He gives Aiden a brief rundown, explaining my stolen backpack, the alley, and how I have absolutely no cash or options left. Then Ash’s tone shifts, gaining a slight warning edge. “And Ryker already gave him the offer.”
Aiden pauses with the water bottle halfway to his mouth.
His brows shoot up toward the brim of his cap.
He lets out a low whistle, swallowing a gulp of water before looking back at me.
This time, the look he gives me is different.
It isn’t predatory or intense like Ryker’s was.
It’s openly appraising, like he’s seeing me in a new light, checking me out from head to toe with a smirk on his lips.
He doesn’t try to hide that he’s looking, and it makes my stomach clench.
“Well, that’s Ryker for you,” Aiden laughs, tossing the plastic bottle cap onto the counter. “Subtle as a freight train.”
“Don’t pile on,” Ash chides, shooting Aiden a glare. He turns his attention back to me, his voice softening. “Jax needs space to think. He doesn’t need pressure from all three of us right now.”
I look at Ash, then at Aiden, who’s still grinning at me eagerly.
My heart thumps hard against my ribs. I’ve spent my whole life waiting for other people to tell me what to do.
Waiting for my dad to hand down the verdict.
Waiting for the church to give me a roadmap to follow blindly.
I ran away to make my own choices, and here I am, faced with the biggest one yet.
“I’ll do it,” I say.
Ash and Aiden both freeze, looking at me.
“Jax,” Ash says, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you sure? You don’t need to decide this second. You can sleep on it for a few days.”
“No,” I shake my head, pushing my mug aside. “I’ve thought about it. I want to.”
I don’t entirely know why I’m suddenly so certain.
Ten minutes ago, I was ready to hyperventilate and run out the front door.
But meeting Aiden just now solidified something.
Seeing the third piece of this crazy equation and finding him to be someone I could actually picture myself with.
He’s approachable and human, he seems to balance out Ryker’s intense, terrifying energy.
It makes the whole arrangement feel less like some dark trap and more like something I can survive.
Honestly? Maybe more than survive. There’s a thrill buzzing under my skin now, mixing with the nerves.
I’m looking at these two gorgeous guys, knowing there’s a third one in the other room, and they all want me.
For the first time in my life, I’m choosing what I want to do with my own body, and I’m choosing them.
Ash studies my face, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. He must not find any, because he slowly nods, letting out a long breath. He doesn’t push back anymore.
Aiden’s grin widens, thrilled. He steps closer, reaching out to give my shoulder a firm, heavy clap. His hand is warm through my shirt, and he leaves it resting there for a second.
“Well alright then,” Aiden says, his eyes locked on mine, dark and sparkling with anticipation. “Glad to have you onboard, Jax.”
The living room feels like a stage, and the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows act like spotlights.
I stand near the edge of the plush living room rug because my legs refuse to bend.
I can’t make myself sit down. I’m too wired, my pulse buzzing under my skin like a live wire.
If I sit on that couch, I might actually sink into the cushions and never find the strength to get back up.