18. Party Of Eleven #2
“Probably a couple of years now,” Shawn admits. “I’ve played a few one-shots, but nothing consistent.”
“You could guest sometime,” Ronan offers. “If you’re interested.”
Shawn’s dimples appear. “Seriously?”
“Sure.”
Alexis slides beside him. “I told you they wouldn’t think you were weird.”
“I never said they’d think I was weird,” he counters, still smiling.
“Does Alexis play?” Dex calls from a few feet away.
“No,” Shawn answers.
“Yes,” Alexis says at the same time.
He looks at her.
She shrugs. “You know I have, and I could again.”
Ronan’s expression becomes thoughtful in a way I recognize far too well.
He’s already building a storyline for them to joint he campaign in his head.
God help us.
The dining room table is giant, glass-topped, and somehow makes seating eleven people look perfectly normal.
Food passes family-style between us—some kind of chicken, roasted vegetables, potatoes, bread, salad—and conversation shifts constantly as dishes move and people talk across each other.
It’s loud.
Not chaotic.
Just alive.
At some point, Carter asks what we’re doing for Christmas, and the five of us collectively groan.
Alexis laughs. “That bad?”
“We just spent a lot of time figuring it out,” I tell her. “And there are only five of us—it’s probably worse with six.”
“Calendars do help,” Holden offers.
“Calendars are essential,” Ronan confirms.
Alexis makes a face.
I catch it. “What?”
She laughs. “Nothing. Just be careful.”
Ronan tilts his head. “Of calendars?”
“Of turning your relationships into them,” Alexis answers.
That gets everyone’s attention.
Alexis sets her fork down and thinks for a moment. “When this first started growing, everybody got really focused on fairness. Making sure I had time with Carter, then Ethan, then Shawn. Then Holden. Then, finally, Jer.”
Jeremiah gives her a small smile.
“And because they were all worried about stepping on each other,” she continues, “they started planning more and more among themselves. Which sounds considerate.”
“But?” Micah prompts after a breath or two of silence.
“But eventually I realized everyone was planning my time except me.”
Carter nods. “That wasn’t our finest moment in this dynamic.”
“I wasn’t malicious,” Alexis adds quickly. “They were trying very hard to make sure nobody felt neglected. But it started feeling like I was moving through appointments.”
A laugh escapes me. “Boyfriend rotations.”
“Exactly.”
Shawn smiles faintly. “It also gave some of us an excuse to not ask for what we needed, and that caused some resentment.”
Something in his tone keeps the table quiet.
He looks down at his plate for a second before continuing. “I’m not great at saying I need attention. Or that I’m feeling left out. So if there was a schedule, I could tell myself my turn was coming, and I didn’t have to say anything.”
Alexis reaches over and squeezes his hand. “But that didn’t mean you were okay,” she says softly.
“No.” He gives her fingers a squeeze back. “I had to learn that.”
I lean back in my chair.
Fuck.
Because I understand that.
Maybe too well.
My eyes land on Griffin.
He’s listening, but his expression has that thoughtful crease between his eyebrows.
“I think we do some of that,” I admit.
His gaze moves to me.
“I know I manage attention.” I wrinkle my nose, trying to find the right words. “Especially yours.”
Griffin looks genuinely surprised. “Mine?”
“You try really hard not to be needy.”
“I am not needy.”
Dex coughs a “bullshit” loudly into his fist.
Griffin glares at him.
I ignore the exchange. “You try really hard not to ask for things because you don’t want anyone else to be without or feel like you’re getting special treatment.”
Understanding replaces the surprise on Griffin’s face.
“And sometimes I notice,” I continue. “So I make sure we have time alone or that I at least check in.”
Micah nods. “I do some of that too. With everyone. I also am bad about telling anyone when I need something.”
Ronan’s brow furrows. “So the emotional labor itself needs to be balanced.”
Alexis points at him. “Yes. But I also don’t think it needs to become another system you have to maintain perfectly.”
Ronan’s mouth twists.
I smile—she’s already figured him out.
“You’re going to hate this,” she tells him, smiling, “but there is no perfect system.”
“I don’t hate it.”
Her eyes narrow. “You look like you hate it.”
“I do dislike the lack of a solvable outcome.”
Jeremiah laughs quietly. “I understand that.”
Ronan looks at him.
Something passes between them that makes me desperately curious—and honestly a little heat to travel to my core—but I let it go.
Griffin’s hand finds my knee beneath the table. “I don’t want making sure I’m okay to become your job.”
My chest tightens a little. “I know.”
“And if I need something, I’ll tell you.”
Dex leans forward. “Are we getting that notarized?”
Griffin’s head snaps to him. “Fuck off.”
The whole table laughs, including Griffin.
The heaviness breaks without disappearing completely.
That’s nice too.
Nobody solved anything.
Nobody gave us rules.
The conversation just leaves something behind to think about.
Dinner ends, but nobody makes any attempt to leave.
Ethan and Carter start clearing dishes, and before the rest of us can offer, Griffin is carrying plates toward the kitchen with them.
Of course he is.
Holden follows.
Also, of course.
I end back at the island beside Alexis while conversations reform around us.
Jeremiah and Carter are talking quietly with Ronan and Micah now. I catch enough words—restraints, trust, equipment, safety—to know exactly what they’re discussing without hearing anything I can use to embarrass Ronan later.
Probably.
Dex hovers nearby until Carter changes the subject and pulls him back into whatever tattoo conversation they abandoned earlier.
Shawn moves toward them and asks Ronan another question about the campaign when there’s an opening.
Everyone is comfortable.
The realization hits me slowly.
I don’t have to facilitate this.
I don’t have to make sure Griffin is comfortable because Holden and Ethan already did.
I don’t have to make sure Ronan has someone to talk to because Shawn and Jeremiah found him.
Micah has met Alexis before, but now he’s laughing with Carter.
And Dex… Dex could make friends with a hostile raccoon behind a dumpster.
As long as they aren’t overwhelmed by him, he’s fine.
Alexis bumps my shoulder with hers. “You look happy.”
“I am.”
Her smile softens.
“How’s wedding planning?”
She groans.
I laugh. “That well?”
“We figured out the important parts.”
“Like?”
Alexis holds up her left hand even though there’s nothing new. “We figured out a ring replacement for the commitment ceremony.”
My eyebrows lift.
“Ethan came up with this idea where they’ll each give me charms during the ceremony, and then we’re having them put onto a bracelet.”
“That is ridiculously sweet.”
“I know.” Her eyes drift toward the men scattered around the kitchen.
“And nobody feels like the legal—official—wedding matters more?”
“I’m sure we’ll all have feelings about it at some point.” She laughs quietly. “But that’s kind of the point. We found something that works best for us.”
Not the solution.
Their solution.
Across the room, Griffin laughs at something Holden says. Ethan is leaning against the counter beside them, listening.
Carter has Dex by the wrist, examining one of his tattoos while Micah explains something.
Jeremiah is speaking to Ronan again, both of them serious enough that I have no doubt they’re discussing something technical.
And for the first time since any of this started, I don’t feel like we’re the only people in the world who know what this feels like.
Not exactly.
Their relationships aren’t ours.
Their problems aren’t ours.
Their solutions won’t necessarily work for us.
But they understand the vocabulary without needing a glossary.
They understand that Griffin being my husband doesn’t mean he’s the only person I love.
They understand that Micah touching Dex doesn’t threaten anything I have with either of them.
Nobody here is trying to figure out who is secretly jealous, who is getting shortchanged, or which relationship is the “real” one.
Nobody is waiting for the punch line.
They’re just people.
Our people, maybe.
Friends.
I feel Alexis’s shoulder bump mine again and smile.
A month ago, I would have said the five people in our house were enough. And maybe they are.
But having people outside of it who understand?
People we can talk to when the people we love are the ones driving us fucking insane?
Yeah—I think we need that too
Dex’s laugh explodes from the other side of the kitchen.
Carter immediately follows it.
Micah groans.
I look at Alexis.
She looks at me.
“Although,” I say, “putting those two together may have been a tactical error.”
Alexis watches Carter and Dex for a moment. “Probably.”
“We could separate them.”
“We could.”
Neither of us moves.
I laugh and lean against her.
For once, nobody needs me to explain anything.
And this might be the most at peace I’ve felt in a long time.