32. Twenty-eight
Twenty-eight
Fallon
I stared at my phone, re-reading the article. The low rumbling of Jake’s truck in the driveway didn’t pull my attention.
The strike ended. It was all over the entertainment outlets. People celebrated while I selfishly wished for nothing to change. I read through the news all day, waiting for Beau to text or call, but I heard nothing from him.
I felt it on the drive home from the cabin. Beau was pulling away. It shouldn’t have surprised me. He wanted fun, but it was time-limited.
He had a life elsewhere. We were a stopgap as he figured out his life and what to do with it. Jake and I had pushed him, constantly pushed him, inviting him to share our bed more nights than not.
Perhaps more confusingly, we invited Beau to share life outside our bed.
I foolishly got ahead of myself. Worse, I dragged Jake along with me, encouraging him to consider that maybe this was more than fun. Despite his reluctance, Jake pushed himself. I never should have suggested it. Any of it.
The strike was over, and Beau would leave, but he started withdrawing days before. Not that it mattered now.
And… that was it, I guess. His silence spoke louder than any message he might have sent. He would probably be gone if his car wasn’t in the shop.
“Baby,” Jake purred, strolling through the door with a relaxed energy that starkly contrasted with mine.
I quickly swiped beneath my eyes. He sounded happy—thrilled. That surprised me more than the news itself. He’d fretted about Beau’s emotional retreat this week and how to manage it. My stubborn goat of a man missed his friend.
How could he be so happy?
Jake undressed in the entryway, stripping himself as soon as the door closed, and balled his clothes to carry into the laundry room.
I rose from the couch, following. “Where have you been?”
I gestured to his naked ass as he dumped the clothes from the basket into the washing machine and started a load .
“Not that I don’t appreciate the help with chores, but…”
“I went for a hike with Beau, and we jerked off together in my truck afterward.” He stood with his hands on his hips, a slight grimace on his face.
I blinked, then blinked again. This was big, and Jake’s wide and slightly panicked eyes proved it.
“Baby.” I cupped my cheeks and shook my head. “Tell me everything .”
When he confessed his confusing feelings and growing attraction to Beau, I encouraged him to talk with Beau about it. If anyone understood, it was Beau. While teasing and taunting were par for the course with those two knuckleheads, he would never be cruel to Jake, especially about something so vulnerable.
When Jake tried, he choked on pride or embarrassment or shame. He wasn’t homophobic, but he was a product of society and had conflicting beliefs about masculinity.
He struggled with what being attracted to Beau meant: the fear and worry, the sense of guilt that caring about Beau meant he cared less about me.
But love didn’t work like that. It didn’t take from someone else. We only needed permission to have more of it.
Jake didn’t want to misstep or freak out Beau—freak himself out, too—when Beau made it clear that he enjoyed this as a fun time and wouldn’t be registering to vote as a resident of Windmere.
“Wait,” I said, waving my hands as he ended with Beau’s lewd parting taunt. “So you didn’t touch him?”
Jake shook his head, his erection hanging heavily between us. He grew increasingly hard as he filled in the details.
“Why not?” I huffed, crossing my arms. “As someone intimately familiar with touching each of you, I fully endorse the joyful experience.”
“You would have touched us both, huh? Greedy as you are. Ravenous. Jumped right in there and demanded what you wanted? Where would you take me? Where would you take him?” His finger traced my jaw, sliding along my neck and sternum.
I used the washing machine to support myself. Even a featherlight touch from Jake could sink me.
“Maybe I would have watched you guys instead of you watching me,” I said softly.
He groaned, dropping his head. “I don’t… I don’t know if I actually want to. If I’m ready for that… kissing him. I don’t know. Shit, Fal. It was just hot thinking about fucking you and him thinking about fucking you, and… Maybe I didn’t want to touch him at all. I’m a horny son of a bitch.”
Impossible to argue with that.
“I only wanted him to know I’m not a gatekeeper. Whatever this is or has become, it’s not for me to control. Thought it was rather generous of me, honestly.”
I bit a smile, shaking my head. “You’re still not getting that sainthood.”
He smiled back, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me. “Yet,” he mumbled into my hair as he kissed the top of my head.
My stomach went tight. There might not be many opportunities left, and the dread of saying goodbye to Beau cleaved my chest.
“Did he say when he’d be leaving?” I asked, gently resting my palms on his shoulders.
“Leaving?”
My eyes flickered over his. “He didn’t say anything? The strike ended this morning. I assumed he said something to you about it.” I gave a reluctant smile. “He might not even know.”
Jake’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. “You think? The guy attached to his phone and eager to get back to his life has no idea of news that’s, let me guess, everywhere online?”
He swore under his breath, his face lifting to the ceiling. “Well. Now I know. I don’t actually want to touch him, barring strangulation. So, glad to clear that up, at least. I should have known with the way he’s been acting. Fucking prick.”
The machine kicked on, clunky and rattling as it rocked on its last leg of life. Jake slammed his fist against the lid, the only trick to quiet it. He brushed past me and headed for the bathroom.
“Hey,” I said, following. “Maybe he’s going to stay for a while. Maybe that’s why he said nothing.”
Please be why. Don’t pull away from us, Beau .
He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life. “What does it matter? It was just sex.”
Stubborn fool. “Then why are you so upset right now?”
“Not upset,” he mumbled, running his hand through the water to test the temperature. “This place needs a new hot water tank.”
“Jake.”
“I’m not upset,” he repeated, his voice rough.
But he was. Anger vibrated over him. Anger he would hold and hide and pretend never existed.
“Why would he do that? Why would he pull away and not say shit when this works?” He stared at the showerhead, his back to me. “The long fucking con. We bring him into this, and he pushes us away. Fuck him.”
“It intimidates him, what we have. He doesn’t think he’s part of it, Jake. We haven’t exactly done a stellar job of sitting around the table to sort through things.”
“We included him,” he grumbled, stepping into the shower. “He’s had his dick inside of you. Not sure how much more inclusive we can be.”
It wasn’t the same, and that’s why Beau’s silent retreat hurt him.
“It’s okay to be sad.” I tried to catch his eye, but he avoided my gaze, dropping his head back and wetting his hair. “It makes me sad, too.”
It devastated me, but the distinction didn’t need to be said right now.Jake needed comfort. Not my sadness piggybacking on his.
“I’m not sad. I’m annoyed.”
I tugged on my lip, watching him through the shower glass. Steam billowed around him, the heat of the water matching the heat of his temper as he impatiently uncapped the shampoo and scrubbed his hair.
His eyes stayed closed as he rinsed, the soapy suds trailing down his body. “The asshole barges in and disrupts shit and leaves like it’s no big deal.” He finished up, turning off the water.
I handed him a towel. “Maybe he’s not—”
“He is,” Jake cut me off. “And fuck him for it. You’re the only person I’ve been with, the person I love most. I shared you with him. Let him into this”—he gestured vehemently between us—“and he flutters out of here like none of that matters. But hey, Beau had fun, so.”
With the towel tied around his waist, he swiped his palm over the steamed mirror and combed his fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry, what? I’m not the only person you’ve been with.”
“You are,” he said matter-of-factly, like he didn’t just light a bomb in my heart. “So, to your point, the thought of touching, kissing, or being with him? It’s not because it’s Beau.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Okay, it’s not only because it’s Beau.”
My throat tightened with emotion. We’d broken up occasionally over the years, believing it provided the other with needed freedom before settling down… I’d been with other men.
“You weren’t with anyone when you were in Alaska?”I followed him to the bedroom.
“No,” he answered, digging for a pair of shorts. “I only ever wanted to be with you.”
“Oh,” I whispered, tears lining my eyes with the ache in my heart. The hurt I must have caused him over the years, the hurt I possibly caused now.
He stared at the floor. “It’s a big deal for me to want to be with someone else. Anyone else.”
For the first time, I resented Beau. Not a fire of jealousy, but an ignition of fury that he would hurt Jake when he cruised out of town.
“Jake.” My arms wrapped around him, clinging so tight we could have melted together. He was the protector, always the protector, but he deserved protection, too. “I love you. I’m yours, always yours.”
Cupping the back of his head, I pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him and murmuring how much I loved him and how sorry I was.
We made love, slow and steady, despite the anger in every stroke and drive of his body. His fingers flexed into the sheets, and his groans laced with pain and emotion.
He cared, and he wanted to fight me and argue about Beau’s intentions because the thought of him leaving hurt.
When we finished, holding each other with hands tangled through hair and legs entwined, the anger and hurt hadn’t dissipated.
He dressed and offered to grab dinner. I kissed him goodbye and watched his truck pull out of the driveway.
Staring at the text I typed out, I considered sending it to Beau.
Me: It’s not fair to ask you to stay. I might not be enough for you. I’m broken in a way that not all men want, but you and Jake make me feel whole. Please don’t take part of my heart away.
But I deleted it and sent the one he needed to hear instead.
Me: You should have told him. You’re about to get your chance. He’s coming for you. If he doesn’t kill you, I just might. Don’t you dare hurt him.