Chapter 21 Violet
VIOLET
Ikick the front door shut with my heel, juggling an armful of mail and a steaming mug of cocoa threatening to slosh all over my favorite sweater. The late afternoon light is already fading, winter stealing the daylight earlier each day.
"Home sweet home," I announce to absolutely no one, because apparently I've started talking to myself now. Great. Next I'll be having full conversations with the houseplants.
The radiator hisses in the corner, pumping out just enough heat to keep my toes from going numb. Outside the window, I can see clouds rolling in, heavy and gray like a bruise spreading across the sky. The weather forecast mentioned snow tonight. Looks like they got it right for once.
I flop onto the couch with zero grace, my drink sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "Smooth, Violet. Real smooth."
My blanket's been waiting for me, draped over the back of the couch like it knew I'd need rescuing from another day of being the town's newest entertainment. I wrap it around myself, creating what I like to call my "burrito of solitude." Much better.
The coffee table's bribing me with a plate of brownies still warm enough to make the whole apartment smell like a chocolate factory explosion. I grab one and take a massive bite, closing my eyes as the gooey center practically melts on my tongue.
"Garrick, you beautiful, grumpy man," I mumble around a mouthful of fudgy goodness.
He definitely loaded these with extra cocoa chips.
Maybe muttering about “omegas and their sweet tooth" the whole time he was making them, his hands working the dough the same way they'd worked my hips this morning when he'd kissed me breathless against the bakery counter.
My thighs clench at the memory. The way he'd growled my name against my throat, possessive and hungry, before pulling back with visible restraint because customers were about to arrive.
Three alphas circling me like I'm something worth having. The idea used to terrify me. Now it just makes my skin heat with anticipation of what comes next.
It's weird being here alone but not feeling like I want to crawl under a rock and disappear. Mark made me feel like I was taking up too much space just by breathing. Like the world would run smoother if I'd make myself smaller. Quieter. Less.
"Well, joke's on you, Mark," I say, raising my mug in a mock toast. "I'm taking up all the space I want now. And getting thoroughly kissed while doing it."
A soft knock interrupts my one-woman celebration, and my stomach does this annoying little flip. But then that scent hits me through the door. Pine and smoke and something that makes every nerve ending wake up and pay attention.
I know that scent intimately now. Know how it gets stronger when Xaden's aroused, how it clings to my skin after he's had his hands on me.
I pad to the door in my fluffy socks, mug still in hand, already smiling. "Xaden?" I call through the wood.
"It's me." His voice is low and careful, but I can hear the want underneath. The same want that was there last night when he'd backed me against my bedroom wall and kissed me until I forgot my own name.
I yank the door open, leaning against the frame with what I hope is a seductive smile. "Look what the cat dragged in. Come to finish what you started last night?"
Heat flares in his eyes immediately, pupils dilating as his gaze drops to my mouth. "Dangerous question, gorgeous."
"Maybe I like danger." I step back to let him in, but slowly, making him brush past me in the narrow doorway. His hand finds my hip automatically, possessively, and the touch sends sparks racing up my spine.
Cold air rushes inside with him, carrying the sharp bite of winter and the promise of snow. He fills my doorway completely, all broad shoulders and controlled power wrapped in a leather jacket dusted with snowflakes.
"Want some cocoa?" I gesture with my mug toward the couch, then add with deliberate innocence, "Or did you come for something else?"
His laugh is low and dangerous. "You're trouble."
“Really?” I turn toward the kitchen, putting extra sway in my hips because I know he's watching. "Garrick put enough chocolate in these brownies to send a person into a sugar coma. Fair warning."
"The brownies aren't what I'm interested in right now."
The words make heat pool low in my belly. I pour another serving, acutely aware of him following behind me. His presence is like heat at my back, making the small space feel charged with electricity.
I turn to hand him the mug, and he's right there. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Close enough to see the want written plainly across his face.
"You're staring," I say, but there's no accusation in it. Just acknowledgment of the hunger between us.
"Can't help it." His free hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my lower lip. "You're beautiful when you're being a brat."
I nip at his thumb, gratified when his eyes darken further. “Just the way you like me.”
"I know." He leans down, his mouth hovering just above mine. Close enough that I can feel his breath. "It's one of my favorite things about you."
The kiss is hot and demanding, all the restraint from last night burned away. His hand tangles in my hair, angling my head exactly how he wants it, and I moan into his mouth. The mug in my hand tilts dangerously, cocoa sloshing toward the rim.
He pulls back with visible effort, steadying my hand before I spill everywhere. "Couch. Before we make a mess."
"Too late," I mutter, but I follow him to the living room, my lips still tingling from that kiss.
He sits on the coffee table across from me like last time, our knees touching now.
I curl up in my blanket fort, but it's not armor anymore.
It's invitation. The memory of how Liam had unwrapped me from these same blankets yesterday afternoon, his mouth trailing fire across my skin, makes me shift restlessly.
"So," I say, taking a sip of cocoa to cool down. "What brings you to my humble chocolate paradise? Because if it's a repeat of last night, I should probably lock the door. My neighbors already think I'm loud."
His grin is pure masculine satisfaction. "You are loud."
"Your fault." I point at him with my mug. "All three of you. Garrick had me screaming this morning."
"I know. I could hear you from the street." He leans forward, forearms on his thighs, bringing him even closer. "Drove me crazy all day thinking about it."
"Good." I meet his gaze boldly, no longer the shy woman who didn't know what she wanted. These three men have thoroughly educated me on my own desires. "Now tell me why you're really here. Because much as I love making out on my couch, I'm guessing you didn't brave the snow just for that."
Outside, the first few snowflakes start drifting past the window, already sticking to the sidewalk. The storm's moving in faster than predicted.
He sobers slightly, though heat still simmers in his eyes. "I wanted to talk about this situation we're all in."
"You mean the part where three alphas are ruining me for anyone else?" I waggle my eyebrows at him. "Because mission accomplished, gentlemen."
"Violet." But he's fighting a smile. "I'm trying to be serious."
"So am I." I set my mug down and lean forward, matching his position. Our faces are inches apart now. "You three have made it very clear what you want. Your mouths have been extremely articulate on the subject."
His hand finds my knee, thumb stroking circles that make me want to forget about talking entirely. "What we want doesn't matter if you don't want the same thing."
The words hit differently than they would have weeks ago. Back then, I was too scared to want anything. Now, after all the kisses and touches and whispered promises, I'm terrified of wanting too much.
"What I want," I say slowly, covering his hand with mine, "is whatever this is. You, Garrick, Liam. All of it."
"Even though it's insane?"
"Especially because it's insane." I lace our fingers together. "Normal hasn't exactly worked out for me so far. But this? Whatever we're doing? It feels right."
He pulls me forward until I'm straddling his lap, the blanket falling away. His hands span my waist, thumbs stroking the strip of skin where my sweater has ridden up. "You sure? Because once you commit to this, to us, there's no going back."
"Is that supposed to scare me?" I roll my hips experimentally, gratified when his grip tightens. "Because I've already let all three of you into my bed. Pretty sure I'm committed."
"Bed's one thing." His voice is rough now, strained. "Building a life together is another."
The words should terrify me. Instead, they make something warm bloom in my chest. "You want to build a life with me?"
"We all do." He pulls me down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper. "If you'll have us."
I lose myself in the kiss for a long moment, letting my body say what words can't. When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, I rest my forehead against his.
"For five years, I didn't get to choose anything," I whisper. "Mark made every decision. Controlled everything, which is why I filed a restraining order against him."
"You did?" Liam asks, raising an eyebrow.
I don’t want to talk about him. Or my past. I just want to focus on the here and now.
"But you three? You keep asking what I want. Keep giving me options. Do you know how powerful that is?"
His hands move up my back, gentle but possessive. "You deserve choices."
"I want you. All of you."
"Even Garrick when he's being a grumpy asshole?"
I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere genuine. "Especially then. He's cute when he's grumpy. Gets this little crease between his eyebrows that I want to kiss."
"You're going to spoil him."
"Too late. I think the three of you are already spoiled on me." I climb off his lap with reluctance, retrieving my cocoa. "Which is why you're all going to have to share me without killing each other."
"We can manage." He stands, stretching, and I watch appreciatively as his shirt rides up to reveal a strip of toned stomach. "We've been doing okay so far."
"Because I haven't made you choose yet." I curl back into my blankets, feeling bold. "But eventually, you're all going to want me at the same time. What happens then?"
The look he gives me is pure heat. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, and I glance at the screen. Liam's name lights up with a text.
Liam: Garrick's hosting poker at the bakery tonight. Storm's coming in. You should come before the roads get bad. I'll teach you to play. Among other things.
I read the message twice, heat flooding my cheeks at the implication in those last three words. Liam's mouth is as talented at card tricks as it is at other activities.
"Poker?" I show Xaden the text. "Is this a real game or are you three just looking for an excuse to get me alone during a snowstorm?"
"Can't it be both?" He's already texting the group chat. "Come on. Before the weather gets worse. You know Garrick will worry if you're driving in this."
He's right. Garrick's protective instincts go into overdrive when conditions are dangerous. Which is sweet and also slightly annoying when I'm perfectly capable of handling myself.
But then again, having three alphas fuss over me isn't exactly a hardship.
"Fine." I stand, letting the blanket fall away. "But I'm bringing the brownies. And if Garrick thinks I'm folding just because he gives me that intense stare, he's got another thing coming."
Xaden's grin is knowing. "That intense stare works pretty well on you from what I've seen."
"That's different." I head to my bedroom to grab a warmer sweater. "That's bedroom eyes. Poker eyes are completely different."
"Sure they are," he calls after me, amusement clear in his voice. "Keep telling yourself that."
I pull on a deep blue sweater that clings in all the right places, then pause to check my reflection. My lips are still swollen from Xaden's kiss, my cheeks flushed. I look thoroughly debauched, and we haven't even gotten to the poker game yet.
Tonight's going to be interesting.
When I emerge, Xaden's waiting by the door with my coat, already holding the plate of brownies. "Ready?"
"For poker? Sure." I let him help me into my coat, his hands lingering on my shoulders. "For whatever else you three have planned? Guess we'll find out."
He leans down, mouth against my ear. "We always have plans for you."
The promise in his voice makes me shiver, and it has nothing to do with the cold.