43 JULIAN
T he first thing I feel is the sharp, stinging ache in my side where that asshole stabbed me. My eyelids feel like they’ve been glued shut, but I force them open, blinking against the harsh overhead light. The room’s familiar—our makeshift infirmary.
Rhea’s face swims into focus, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she leans over me, her green eyes wide and shining with tears. She’s got a cloth in her hand, dabbing at my side with shaky fingers.
“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” I say, my voice rough, like I’ve been chewing on gravel.
She doesn’t stop, her hands moving with a professional efficiency that clashes with the way her breath hitches. “You’re not fine, Julian.
You got stabbed. You lost a lot of blood. You were unconscious.” I try to sit up, but the pain bites into me, and I wince, falling back against the couch. “Yeah, well, I’ve had worse.”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracks, and she slams the cloth down on the table beside her. “Don’t downplay this. You could’ve died.” I stare at her, the raw panic in her eyes cutting through my usual defenses. “Rhea?—”
“No,” she interrupts, her hands balling into fists.
“You don’t get to brush this off. I don’t know what I would’ve done if… if something happened to you. To any of you. You don’t get to act like it’s nothing.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy and unspoken truths neither of us has been ready to face.
I reach for her hand, but she pulls away, pacing the room like a caged animal.
“You don’t get to do that,” she mutters, more to herself than to me. “You don’t get to act like you’re invincible when you’re not. I can’t—I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep?—”
“Hey,” I say, louder this time, and she stops, turning to look at me. “Come here.” She hesitates, her arms crossed like she’s trying to hold herself together, but she steps closer, her shoulders trembling.
“Sit,” I say, patting the edge of the couch.
She does, reluctantly, and I take her hand this time, her fingers cold in mine.
“I’m not invincible,” I admit, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“I know that. But I also know I’ve got people who’ve got my back. People who’d tear this city apart to find me if I went down. And you… you’re one of them.”
Her chin quivers, and she looks away, but I don’t let her pull back.
“You’re in this now, Rhea. Whether you like it or not. And I’m in it with you. So stop acting like you’re alone in this, okay? We’re all in deep. But we’re in it together.”
The room feels too quiet, the weight of everything we’ve just been through pressing down on us.
Rhea’s still sitting on the edge of the couch, her fingers tracing the edge of the cloth she used to clean my wound.
I can’t stop looking at her, the way her hair falls into her face, the way her lips press together like she’s holding something back.
“Rhea,” I start, my voice soft, but she cuts me off before I can finish.
“Don’t,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t say something you’ll regret.” I reach out, my hand cupping her cheek, and she leans into it, her eyes closing for a moment.
“I’m not gonna regret this,” I say, my voice steady now.
“Not ever.” She opens her eyes, and there’s a storm in them, a mix of fear and something else I can’t quite place.
“Julian, I?—” I don’t let her finish. I pull her closer, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that’s been building since the moment she walked into this bar all those weeks ago.
It’s soft at first, hesitant, but then she’s kissing me back, her hands gripping the front of my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard, and I can see the confusion in her eyes.
“Julian,” she starts, her voice trembling.
“I love you. I do. But I also love Corey. And Tobias. I can’t just choose one of you. I wouldn’t be able to.”
For a moment, I’m silent, my heart in my throat.
I knew this was coming, but hearing her say it out loud still feels like a punch to the gut.
But then I think about Corey, about Tobias, about the way we’ve always had each other’s backs, and I realize I’m not mad. I’m not even jealous. Not really.
“Rhea,” I say, my hand still cupping her cheek. “You’d be surprised how open-minded the three of us are.” She blinks at me, like she’s not sure she heard me right. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” I start, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone,
“that we’re not exactly conventional. None of us. And we’ve always been a team, the three of us. If you can’t choose, then maybe you don’t have to.” Her eyes widen, and I can see the gears turning in her head. “But
—that’s not—how would that even work?” I shrug, a small smile tugging at my lips. “We’ll figure it out.
Together.” For a long moment, she just stares at me, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Then, slowly, she nods, her hand reaching up to cover mine.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay, we’ll figure it out.”
I groan as Rhea helps me to my feet, my side throbbing with every movement.
“You’re driving,” I say, handing her the keys to my car.
She takes them without argument, her hands steady but her face pale.
“You’re sure you’re okay to move?” she asks, her voice tight with worry.
“I’ll live,” I say, forcing a grin. “But if I pass out, don’t let Corey give you crap for crashing my car.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” As we shuffle to the car, I pull out my phone and dial Tobias. He picks up on the first ring, his voice low and gruff. “Julian. You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Rhea’s taking me home. She patched me up.” There’s a pause on the other end, and I can picture Tobias’s face, the way his jaw clenches when he’s thinking. “Good. We’re handling things here. Corey’s got the situation under control. We’ll be home when it’s taken care of.”
“Keep an eye on him,” I say, my tone serious now. “He’s been itching for a fight, and I don’t trust him not to do something stupid.” Tobias lets out a dry laugh. “Since when is Corey not stupid in a fight?”
“Fair point,” I say, wincing as I lower myself into the passenger seat. “Just don’t let him get himself killed, okay?”
“Copy that,” Tobias says, and the line goes dead.
Rhea starts the car, her fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel as she pulls out of the parking lot. “You’re really okay?” she asks again, glancing at me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, leaning my head back against the seat.
“Just a little stabbing. Happens to the best of us.” She shakes her head, but there’s a small smile on her face now.
“You’re such an ass.”
“But I’m your ass,” I say, grinning at her.
She doesn’t respond, but her fingers tighten on the wheel, and I can see the conflict in her eyes.
She’s got a lot to process—what happened tonight, what’s been happening between us, between her and Corey, between her and Tobias.
But right now, I’m just glad she’s here, driving me home, keeping me from bleeding out in the backseat of my own car.
The drive is quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional streetlight passing by the only sounds.
My side aches, and I feel the adrenaline starting to wear off, leaving me exhausted.
But I keep my eyes open, watching her, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking.
“You did good back there,” I say finally, breaking the silence.
“Kicking those guys’ asses. You’re a natural.”
She glances at me, her green eyes catching the light from the dashboard.
“I had a good teacher.” I grin, despite the pain in my side.
“Damn right you did.” She doesn’t say anything else, but the tension in her shoulders eases a little, and that’s enough for me. For now.