Chapter 22 #2
Blaise grins at me and blows me a kiss as he kicks off his shoes, breaking the awed tension in the room. “Aw, you want to start your own gang. Do I have to start calling you boss?”
After an early training session down in the gym with Avery, I walk her over to her ballet practice as she reads out her conversation with Atticus to me.
I do my best to be supportive, but it’s fucking hard because while I’m still firmly on Team Atticus-can-fucking-grovel, I already know what Avery wants, Avery gets.
And Avery wants Atticus in the worst way.
Once she ducks into the class with a smile and a wave, her necklace firmly clasped around her neck, I head back to our room to make myself some breakfast and figure out who’s studying with me today.
I want French toast again, because when don’t I?
Ooh and ice cream, and a giant mug of coffee.
Harley was still asleep in my bed when Avery and I left, if he makes me breakfast I might lock the door and show him my, ahem, gratitude.
I’m still chuckling at my own hilarity when I get back into my room, freezing as the door swings shut behind me.
Three sets of eyes take me in.
Harley is shirtless, holy hot damn, sitting on the couch holding a bottle of whiskey.
Ash looks deliciously sleep-rumpled, still in his sweats despite sleeping in his own bed last night, and he has shot glasses lined up on the coffee table in front of them both.
Blaise looks tired and grumpy from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, also rocking his sweats.
It occurs to me that we very, very rarely have time together like this, the four of us in a room alone, and I want it more than I want air.
“You took your time, babe. Wanna play a game?” Harley says, waving the bottle at me as if that will entice me into playing along. I blush as I come out of my trance and I kick my shoes off, stalking over to slump down on the couch between the cousins.
“If we’re playing hooky from everything we’re supposed to be doing, can we skip the game and just drink? I was also kinda hoping for breakfast,” I grouse, but the second Harley slings an arm around my shoulders, I’m in. Why does he smell so good?!
“I’ve got my truths up my sleeve. You owe me,” Ash says, his tone like warm honey, and it’s almost enough to distract me from the words themselves.
Fuck.
I’d forgotten about that.
“Well, what do you want to know then?” I feign indifference but his smirk tells me I fail miserably.
Harley frowns at him and cracks the bottle of whiskey open, taking a swig and then handing it over to me. He hates not knowing shit about me, and Ash having the upper hand will be grating on his nerves.
Ash keeps his eyes locked on mine as he swipes the bottle from me, and fills the shot glasses to the brim. “I’ll be gentle, Mounty. We’ll play by your rules and if you don’t want to answer something just take the shot, and I’ll wait until it’s just the two of us to get the real answers.”
I groan at him because nothing in this world will piss Harley off more. “I’ll answer your questions. You guys can take shots if you don’t want to. You go first, Ash, since I owe you.”
He stares at me for a second and I almost think I see some regret on his face, but he asks the question anyway. “Why do you hate your birthday?”
I take the shot.
Harley curses under his breath, I think he’s ready to argue with Ash for me, but I wave him off. “I can tell I need to be drunk for the rest of this conversation. I hate my birthday because my mom died on my birthday. Next question.”
Blaise glares at Ash and tugs me until I end up in his lap. They’ve all taken to just picking me up and moving me where they want me and I’m still deciding if I like it or not.
I grab the bottle and start in on it. “C’mon, ask your questions. I’m giving you ten minutes and then I’ll be fucking wasted and useless. Someone better figure out how you’re going to explain this to Aves, too.”
Ash opens his mouth but Harley cuts him off. “I thought you hated your mom. Why miss out on your birthday every year to mourn someone you hate?”
Another gulp, I’m not going to make it to ten minutes.
“I’m not mourning her. I’m commemorating the day I got sent to a group home and met a boy there with sweet words who knew exactly what to say to get me to trust him.
A boy who told me he’d protect me and keep me safe.
I’m commemorating the last time I blindly trusted someone and he turned out to be the biggest fucking monster under the bed.
I’m mourning naive Lips Anderson who had no idea that boy had been watching her for months and sold her mom the dirty batch of heroin.
I might have met him there, but he’d been watching me for a while and my life ended the same day she died.
Lips died too, the Wolf is all that’s left. Next question?”
Harley takes a shot and then punches Ash in the arm so hard he winces. “Ask one of us one, babe. It’s not just you playing.”
Oh. That could be fun. I hand Harley the bottle and tap my chin with a finger dramatically. Blaise snorts with laughter, his chest pushing into me as he leans forward to grab a shot and down it.
Fuck it, I’ll go for the throat. “Why don’t you two get pissy that Harley always sleeps in my bed? Why is some shit harder to compromise on than others?”
Ash scowls at me, sighing and rolling his eyes when I can only stare back at him.
“Harley sleeps well around you but outside of your bed he’s an insomniac.
Last year we had to drug him to get him to close his eyes for longer than twenty minutes at a time.
I’m not going to get pissy over him finally having some sort of regular sleeping pattern.
Would you say no to me sleeping in your bed while he’s in there? ”
I shake my head. It’s a stupid question, I’ve had all three of them in there before.
“Well, there’s your answer. Yes, I’d like you on my own occasionally but I knew what sharing you entailed when I agreed.”
I look at Blaise and find him nodding. “I’m less… grumpy about it, I guess. I don’t give a fuck who’s in your bed or who you’re fucking, Star. As long as I’m one of them.”
I blush because that’s sweet, but also I feel a little like a skank for wanting them all. For enjoying the hell out of them sharing me. Ugh. I’m a total whore.
Harley brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Stop overthinking things again, babe.”
Blaise takes another shot and then moves me around in his arms like I weigh nothing which isn’t fucking possible with the amount of ice cream I now get to eat every week.
He pouts at me and my eyes glue themselves to the inviting sight of his lip. “Why is this only truths? I want there to be dares as well. Kiss me, Star. I dare you to.”
I laugh at him and squeeze his arms, the whiskey lighting my blood up until I’m all soft and pliable. “You don’t have to dare me to kiss you.”
He bites down on my shoulder and I have to consciously tell my hips not to rock forward into him. I glance back to find Harley and Ash are both watching us, not a shred of jealousy in either of them, but I can taste the want in the air.
Fuck.
This is heady and overwhelming and fucking perfect.
Then keys slide into the lock, and Blaise is cursing low and vicious under his breath, but I’m the one pouting.
Firm hands band around my hips and Ash pulls me out of Blaise’s lap. “Time’s up, Mounty.”
Avery doesn’t ask questions about why we were drinking, even after I take a three-hour nap.
I wake up feeling physically shit but my head is in a better space, finally.
Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the reassurances from them all, or maybe it was talking about some of the damage still bleeding inside me.
They way they heard me out and then let it go—I’m starting to think they’re all taking notes of my reactions and sharing them amongst themselves.
We all eat dinner together, quieter than normal thanks to the long and slow day of recovery we’ve all had, but it only settles my mind even more.
Harley sends everyone else back to the boys’ room while I’m in the shower getting ready for bed, totally oblivious to his plans.
When I step out and find him alone, perched on my bed in nothing but his boxers, I gulp. Not in fear but in pure fucking lust.
“Uhm—”
He cuts me off. “There was one truth I didn’t get to ask you, babe, and I need it.”
I frown and step up until I’m standing between his legs, his big hands spanning my hips and drawing me in until he’s taking up all of my senses. He raises his eyebrows at me and I nod.
“My inheritance hit my account and the number was off. I spoke to Avery, told her to rerun the numbers and let me know the exact amount I owed her. She stonewalled me, and when I called her out about it, she told me you’ve been paying for my shit. Is that true?”
Fuck.
Avery hadn’t warned me about this, dammit!
Harley nods like it’s written all over my face even though I’m sure it’s not. “So even while I was being an asshole to you, you were paying for my tuition, my hotels, my fucking food. Everything.”
I clear my throat. “Look, I had to. The Jackal was looking for any little opening to take you out and having you on the Beaumont payroll would have been the easiest in for him. I was keeping you safe.”
He shakes his head and lets his hands slide down until he’s palming my ass, squeezing and kneading. “I’m not angry, babe. I’m hungry. I’m fucking starving, and you’re the only thing on the menu I want. One taste of what you’ve got and now I’m fucking addicted. Spread those legs for me.”
Oh God. How the fuck did I end up with three Alpha males? And how in the good goddamn did I find the only Alphas in the history of the Earth that are happy to share with each other? Sweet lord, I’m going to have a fucking heart attack.