Chapter Thirty-Seven – Fawn #2
There is a small, foolish part of me that wants to follow suit, but I’m quickly reminded of the reality of my situation.
My shorts don’t cover my stomach, and I’m definitely not flashing my stretch marks to the world.
I don’t mind showing my stomach to them in private, but not here. Not when anyone could wander by.
I finish my food and shuffle toward the edge of the dock. Kicking off my shoes, I let my legs dangle and stretch out my toes, hoping they’ll reach the water. They don’t. I forgot I’m five foot nothing. Dramatically, I sigh. “How is this lake not packed with people?”
Dylan scoots over to sit alongside me. “Because it’s hard to reach, I guess. Most people would rather be somewhere like a cocktail bar than out in nature.”
“It’s fucked,” Torin adds. Kicking off his boots, his legs extend out in front of him, his toes touching the water. Show-off.
They move in on either side of me, close enough for me to feel their body heat. Automatically, I lay one hand on each of their thighs. “I just can’t get over how beautiful it is,” I breathe.
Torin lifts a finger to my chin, turning my face toward him. “You know,” he whispers, soft, loving eyes regarding me, “it isn’t as beautiful as you.”
Before I can respond, Dylan bursts into laughter and nearly falls into the lake. “Dude!” he exclaims, catching himself on the edge of the dock. “I already told her that. Nice try.”
I laugh too, shaking my head, feeling a little bad for him.
Torin punches Dylan playfully in the arm. “Smartass.”
Before the banter develops, I pull my phone out of my pocket. Hesitating for a split second, I question if I should even do this, but considering the way they both acted at the rink, they will happily show me off to the world.
“Can I get a photo with you?” I ask. “I’ve got an idea for a better gift than the original one I got you.”
“Baby, you don’t have to gift us. You are our gift,” Torin says in a soft tone.
However, Dylan being Dylan, his curiosity gets the better of him. “What was in that gift bag anyway?”
“Truthfully . . . just some silly hockey socks,” I admit with a giggle. “Pink unicorn ones for Torin and neon-blue monkey ones for you.”
Dylan scoffs dramatically. “Wow. Well, I still want those, princess. I wanna see Torin rocking them on the ice.”
“I will still give them to you,” I say, pretending to think, “but I’ve got a better idea as well.”
I turn my phone to selfie mode and offer it to Torin — he’s got the longest arms out of us.
They both throw one around me, no hesitation, and I lean in close as if I belong there.
We take a few pictures with big grins then opt to stick out our tongues like complete idiots, all while laughing the whole time.
That’s when I realize: they’re both shirtless.
Well, I guess that’s a bonus gift for me. I’ll treasure this photo forever.
“Let’s do one of us kissing you,” Torin says casually.
Before I can answer, they both lower their faces and press kisses to my cheeks simultaneously. Torin pushes the button as we are all laughing, freezing the image perfectly — me sandwiched between them with a big grin on my face, as if I’ve won the jackpot.
Well, I have, really . . . haven’t I?
Torin gives me my phone back, and we scroll through some pictures together, the screen filled with smiling faces and several partially blurry laughs.
“Ooo! Send that one to the group chat,” Dylan says, pointing at a photo of me laughing between them.
I do and then put my phone behind me on the dock.
“So, baby,” Torin says, his voice easy, “how’s the book coming along?”
My stomach sinks. I am not going to tell them I’m planning on switching the outline, or how my characters are slowly but irreversibly transforming into them. I want to finish the book first, then surprise them.
“I haven’t even started the first chapter,” I admit, resting my head in my hands. “I’ve had too much going on, with the two of you and everything else in my life.”
“Sorry we’re such a distraction,” Dylan teases.
My head comes up, a warm smile finding its way onto my face. “You’ve been the best distraction.”
“As you’re a writer, do you enjoy reading then?” Torin’s voice is full of curiosity.
“I used to read a lot,” I whisper, my voice dropping further.
I do not want to mention him, but the words come spilling out.
“It was an escape for me when I was with Jason. When he’d put me down or make little comments, that would shatter me.
I’d bury myself in sappy romances, turning pages late into the night, hoping the men in the books might somehow step out of the book and save me. ”
Neither of them says a word. They don’t interrupt, don’t rush me. It’s like they’re giving me space, letting me decide how much of this I’m ready to carry into the open.
“I knew I had to end the relationship when he started saying I wasn’t enough for him, that I wouldn’t be able to give him children because of my PCOS.
Over time, he just wore me down, word by word, until I barely recognized myself.
He would get super jealous. I wasn’t allowed to wear certain outfits or go to Delilah’s without a million questions.
I still can’t believe I stayed as long as I did. ”
I tilt my head toward the sky, blinking hard, silently begging the sting in my eyes to disappear. Somehow, the tears retreat, swallowed back before they can fall.
“Anyway . . .” I shake my head, the moment slipping back into place. “Yes. I do like reading.”
Torin dips his head, pressing his lips to the crown of my head. “I understand.”
Dylan intertwines his hand with mine.
The topic of Jason leaves a sour taste, so I shift, straighten, and change the subject before it can settle.
“You know what’s crazy,” I say, glancing between them, a smile tugging at my lips. “A couple of weeks ago, you” — I look straight at Torin — “hardly said a word to me. You were grumpy, closed off, barely even looked my way.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. “And then there’s you,” I add, turning to Dylan. “A cocky shit who I was absolutely convinced slept with anything that moved.”
He laughs loudly, clutching his chest. “Speak for yourself, princess,” Dylan says with a grin. “You were such a nervous little thing. When you walked into the locker room for the first time, you didn’t know where to look. It was so fucking cute.”
I bury my face in my hands. A long groan escapes me. “I was not that obvious.”
“Oh, you were.” He laughs. “You little cutie patootie.”
Torin reaches out, his fingers gently curling around my wrist. The slight touch is enough to anchor me, to pull my focus back to him completely.
“I had my reasons for maintaining my distance. I never wanted to fall for someone again,” Torin confesses tenderly.
“But I noticed the way that you were looking at me when you sat down next to me that first time.”
“Yeah, she couldn’t help herself from checking us out, huh?” Dylan grins immediately.
“Oh, shut up. I was just looking for research purposes,” I say, nudging him. “So, when did you both know you wanted me or felt something?”
Torin thinks for a moment, as if he is carefully choosing his words.
“I thought you were beautiful when we first locked eyes at the rink. I had no intention at that point. I searched you up on the internet, and I wanted to know every part of you. But then at the bar, you looked so terrified, so tiny in that instant. I realized there was more to you than I initially thought. And then, we had our moment, my lips over yours, and I knew something felt right.”
A fuzzy feeling settles in my chest — the kind I don’t want to let go of. Straightening, I melt inside at the conviction behind his words.
Suddenly, Dylan catches my attention as he reaches behind to grab a beer, and then he clears his throat.
“Well, I knew I had to know you when I saw that video of you falling over at the rink.” He scoffs.
“I watched it every day. Still do. The thing is, with you, Fawn, you’re .
. . real. You don’t have a fake personality; you don’t try to please people or crave attention.
I used to say to women, I always wanted fun and nothing serious, but when I got to know you, I felt different for the first time.
The night we brought you back to ours, you were so fucking adorable.
Slurring, telling my clock you weren’t drunk.
” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even realize it at first, but somewhere in all that, you got under my skin, in a good way. ”
I place my hand on his cheek, my thumb brushing his skin as I turn his face toward mine. He stills instantly, eyes locked on me, like he’s afraid to move and break the moment. I lean in and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose before pulling back.
When I do, they’re both looking at me, like they’re waiting to see what I’ll do next. I take the beer from Dylan and lift it to my lips, swallowing a long sip and hoping for liquid courage.
“My turn,” I state, my voice a little shaky.
“Honestly, I’ve always thought the two of you were sexy.
I even had a few thoughts about you in the shower, but you already know that.
” I give them a nervous grin before settling into a serious tone.
“It was all just fantasy until it wasn’t.
Everything changed when you were at my house.
You always save me somehow. Nobody has ever done that in my life, not the way you two have.
It’s like you came straight out of a romance novel.
” I look at them, my emotions threatening to spill from my eyes.
“And just when I think you can’t possibly amaze me anymore, you go and do something else.
Something kind, something protective, something that lets me feel like I’m so .
. .” I shudder, but I don’t look away. “So freaking loved.”