40. Chapter 40
Cody
I scroll through the group chat for the third time in an hour. A week of Atlas and Hunter checking in. A week of me sending back one-word answers. Like, somehow, keeping them at a distance is going to make me figure out what the fuck to do.
It hasn’t.
The sane move is obvious. Walk away. Find someone who doesn't come with a literal body count. Except I don't want to. And that's the part that's fucking with me the most.
I can’t even talk to anyone about it. Like how the fuck do you explain that you love two psycho dipshits who kill people? And those fucking assholes dropped all that murder bullshit on me now when I should be concentrating on recovery instead.
After tossing my phone onto the cushion, I close my eyes. “Really want to slap the shit out of both of them.”
“Can I punch Hunter?”
“No.” I glare at my little brother as he walks into the room and hands me a juice box. “Thanks.”
He sits next to me, grabs the remote, then turns on that stupid volleyball anime Atlas got him hooked on. Swear my little brother thinks everything that guy does is the greatest thing ever. Makes me want to vomit more than the pain meds.
But how pissed Davis still is at Hunter . . . I don’t get it.
Not really.
Doyle showed me a video of the fight. It wasn’t the worst either of us ever had. Except Atlas didn’t defend himself, just stood there and cried as Hunter punched him. And the look on Hunter’s face . . . my stomach twists, throat tightening.
Never seen him look scared before.
Didn’t Davis notice?
My little brother smiles as he taps the play button.
Clenching my teeth, I adjust on the couch and settle in as best I can because this fucking TLSO brace makes getting comfortable damn near impossible. “This entire show is nothing but one volleyball tournament after another. Do they do anything else?”
Davis whips around, mouth agape. “It's about the people. And the rivalries. And whether Hinata's gonna pull off something insane. Ugh, you don’t get it.”
“He’s like five foot two.”
“And amazing. You’re just a hater.”
I huff. “Thought Nishinoya was your favorite.”
He laughs. “So, you have been paying attention. And yeah, he’s super cool. He’s best friends with Asahi, who is really tall like Atlas. Maybe next year Atlas and I can dress up as them for Halloween.”
Oh, fuck my life right now.
“Davis, not sure if . . . I don’t know—”
The doorbell rings, and my little brother jumps off the couch to answer it. Better be one of his friends. Could use a moment to myself. Or maybe not, because I’ll just drive myself insane trying to figure out what to do about my two murderous boyfriends.
“Hey, Little J.”
The fuck?
I twist a little, and my lower back spasms. “Dammit.”
“Easy.” Atlas moves to my side, crouching down and resting a hand on my knee. “Hope it’s okay that I stopped by.”
“What . . . what are you doing here?”
His cheeks redden, and he shrugs. “Missed you.”
The bruising along his jaw has faded to a sick yellow-green and the slash on his cheekbone is closing, but it's deep enough to scar.
My stomach sinks. Wish he hadn’t gotten hurt like that. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I . . . I missed you too.”
Atlas stands and nods toward the seat next to me. “Can I sit?”
“No, just stand there.”
The fucker nods, shoves his hands into his pockets, and actually fucking stands in place.
“Atlas, sit the hell down.”
He sits gently, careful not to cause my body to shift. “How are you feeling?”
“Just lovely.”
Davis walks in, smiling wide. “We were just about to watch Haikyuu .”
Atlas grins, but it's sad, and I fucking hate it. After finishing off the rest of my juice box as fast as I can, I hold it out. “Hey, butthead. Throw this away and then give us some space.”
My little brother scoffs, then snatches the box from my hand. “You’re the butthead, butthead.”
Atlas chuckles as Davis leaves the room. “Kinda missed that too.”
“What? Watching us argue?”
He nods. “Reminds me of home. Miss my brothers and sisters. Max is the youngest. He’s the same age as Davis.”
I pick at the throw blanket covering my legs. “Well, you’ll see them when you go home for Thanksgiving.”
“Not going.”
I look up, staring at him. “Why?”
He takes my hand into his. “Because you’re here. You’re hurt. And until you’re better, I’m not going far.”
My eyes drop to his wrists. Last time I saw him, they were in bandages. But now . . . My chest constricts as I carefully run my thumb over the thick, dark scabs. “Does it hurt?”
“More tender than painful.”
I trace the Patrick Star tattoo. Still want to know the story behind that. Makes sense for Atlas, but Hunter with a fucking SpongeBob tattoo? Can’t wrap my head around that one.
“Little J, I’m going out of my mind. Hunter is too.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Is he mad? Is that why he didn’t come?”
Atlas adjusts his hand, so our fingers thread together. “No. He had to go out of town to take care of some stuff, some paperwork that needs to be handled.”
I nod.
“So, like, I know you need time, and I'm not trying to rush you or whatever, but have you . . . thought about us? Like, where you're at with everything. Or no? You don't have to answer. Forget I—”
I squeeze his hand. “Can I talk?”
“You’re breaking up with us.”
“No, I’m not. I love you both.” I inhale, grimacing as I try to find a more comfortable position.
It doesn’t do any good. “Look, I don’t know how to feel about what the two of you do.
Kinda wish I didn’t know. But I do. And it’s not just about how fucking illegal it is.
” I swallow hard, pulling my hand from his to pick at the blanket again.
“What if something happens to you both. What if . . . what if . . . even just one of you doesn’t come home one day? ”
“Cody—”
“I’m not done.” I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “What if you get it wrong, hurt someone who you shouldn’t? I have so many questions.” I look at him, holding his gaze. “Honestly, I want you both to stop.”
He looks away, features pinched. “I can’t promise that.”
“Figured as much. But I still needed to say it.” I take a moment before continuing because this next part is important to me. It could be a dealbreaker if they can’t agree. “Atlas, I want your word you won’t ever bring any of that shit around Davis. Or any of my family.”
His head whips toward me so fast, an incredulous look on his face. “The fuck, Cody? I could never bring Baby J into any of it. Ever. Hear me.”
“Are you seriously yelling at me right now?”
“Yup.”
I lean back against the couch, grumbling. “Fuck that. I’ve got two fucking psychopaths as boyfriends, so yeah, I’m going to worry they might bring their bullshit around my little brother.”
“Hunt’s right, you got some mouth on you.”
“You really want to pick a fight with me? Now?”
He chuckles. “Sorta. Miss fighting with you.”
“Just wait. I'll be back on the ice before finals. Then I’ll kick your ass, end your season, and make you watch the Titans win the championship again.” That’s what I’ve been telling myself.
But physical therapy doesn’t start for another two weeks, so I could just be feeding myself some delusional bullshit.
“All jokes aside, Little J, you have my word. We won’t bring that stuff around Davis or your family, including Mr. Smooshy.” Atlas shifts on the cushion, his knee bouncing. “But there's something else we need to talk about.”
My pulse picks up. “No. I can't handle any more bombshells.”
“If we want this to work, all three of us, we need to—”
“Just say it.”
He rubs the back of his neck, staring at the TV. “Hunter and I had sex.”
I blink. Then smile. Can't help it. It’s the first real one in a week.
Atlas's brows pinch. “Why are you grinning like a jackass? I thought you'd be—I mean, we didn't talk about it first. Like what's okay between who and what might not be okay and if there are boundaries we need to—”
“Atlas.”
“—because I don't want you thinking we went behind your back, even though technically we did, but it wasn't planned. It just happened after everything and—”
I laugh, then immediately regret it. “Fuck. Ow.” I grimace and shift position again. “When Hunter gets back, the three of us can figure it out together. Boundaries, rules, whatever.”
He nods.
“But.” I hold up a finger. “Since I can't have sex or do anything until fuck knows when, maybe you two shouldn't be able to either.”
Atlas groans, pulling the bill of his hat down over his face. “Shoulda just kept my mouth shut.”
The doorbell rings at the same time my phone buzzes. I pick it up and smile. Oh, this should be fun. Maybe. Could turn into an utter shitshow, and I’ll be stuck suffering through it. Turning to Atlas, I lightly swat his arm. “Get that. And be nice.”
He adjusts his hat and his cognac-brown eyes bore into mine. “Who is it?”
“Just some friends.”
He huffs. “Great. First time I see you in a week, and I gotta share. Love that for me. Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You invited people over? Before me? Un-fucking-believable.”
I roll my eyes.
Atlas stands and glares at me. “When your parents get back with Mr. Smooshy, I’m taking him with me. He loves me more than you anyway.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
A few minutes later Ryan and Doyle enter the room, my now grumpy boyfriend pouting behind them. Doyle daps me up, then flops into the armchair across from me while Ryan sits on the other end of the couch so Atlas can take his spot next to me.
“The hell you guys watching?” Doyle grabs the remote and starts scrolling through the different streaming services.
Atlas drops back against the cushion. “Not your house, but hey, do whatever. Fucking Titans.”
Ryan chuckles, then looks at me. “How you healing?”
I shrug. “Like shit. What about you?”
“Same.”
The murder of his in-laws has been all over the news. Can’t imagine what he and Connor are going through. It’s gotta suck. Though, Doyle says our captain doesn’t seem to give two shits.
Atlas springs upright, holding his hand out to Doyle. “Give me the fucking remote. I’m not watching this dumb reality-show shit.”
I roll my eyes. “Will you calm down?”