49. Ember
EMBER
Ava and I messaged earlier, so she’s expecting me when I show up at her house. Tea, cookies, and pasta salad are waiting on the coffee table in her living room.
“What’s up?” she says gently as we settle onto the couch. “I can tell something’s wrong.”
I look away. “I have a confession.”
“Okay.”
Her matter-of-fact response makes it easier, somehow. “When I said nothing was going on with my coworkers … I lied. I’m sorry. It killed me not to tell you the truth, but I didn’t want to put Lexy in the position of having to cover for me.” I look up and meet her eyes. “Which means I have to ask you not to tell her any of this. Not yet.”
Ava nods. “I understand.”
“And I hate to ask this, but you can’t tell Brax, either, in case he talks to Gage or Kai.”
She pauses for a moment, lines crinkling between her eyes, before she says, “Brax will keep a secret for me. I promise.”
So I tell her everything, minus the explicit details, starting with the move to the new location. “It’s all gotten so … complicated,” I finish. “I never thought I could be this way about a relationship—if that’s even what we have. I’m wrecking everything, and for what? Sex, no matter how great it is, isn’t worth messing up the rest of my life.”
“Are you sure it’s just sex?” Ava says quietly.
“It’s not like what you and Lexy have with your men.” I take a sip of tea. “Griffin, Zeb, and Frank all get on each other’s nerves; it’s not like we’re a foursome or anything. We don’t, um … it’s just one of them at a time with me. And none of them have said anything about wanting more than sex.”
I slump against the couch and sigh. “I need to move out right away. My old roommate is checking out a possible place. Maybe I should resign, too.”
“Don’t do that,” Ava says quickly. “If being with the men is the primary reason you’re distracted, then moving out should make a big difference. No need to burn your bridges.”
“I guess you’re right. I just feel so guilty.”
“If things don’t work out with your roommate, you could move in here. My guys wouldn’t mind.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to intrude, and besides, if I moved in with you, Lexy would know something’s up. I just need to sort everything out.”
Ava gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry things are complicated. Hopefully, once you have a little distance from them, you’ll be able to more clearly see what you’re feeling, and have a talk with them, and figure out where to go from there.”
“I hope so too. I think I know what I need to do. Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime, Ember. Seriously. But have some more cookies before you go.”
They’re delicious, so I take her up on it. A few minutes later, my ride arrives, and Ava walks me to the door and gives me a hug.
As I go out, I pass one of her men, Gray, coming in. He smiles at me, and I feel a pang of envy. What would it be like, to have all my men get along and want a serious relationship with me?
Is that really what I want, or am I just afraid of giving up the sex and companionship we’ve enjoyed together?
The next day, I move into the new apartment with Abby. The place is in better shape than our old apartment, but in a worse neighborhood. The men offered to help me move, but I didn’t let them, because I knew how they’d react.
I also needed distance from them as soon as possible, so I wouldn’t change my mind.
I had a talk with them last night and kept it brief. They already knew why things needed to end, and I asked them to please not try to convince me to stay this time.
After we talked, I went to bed alone, staining the pillowcase with tears.
In the morning, Abby arrived to pick me up. Frank and Griffin helped me carry my things out to her car. There wasn’t much: clothes, towels and bedding, toiletries, my houseplant, and some books. Most of the things in our old place were Abby’s, and she put them in storage after we got access to the old building.
The men gave me hugs, and I tried to pretend they were only friends and coworkers. That’s actually all they are now; my heart will just need some time to catch up to my head’s decisions.
“Nice place,” Abby said as we drove away.
“Yeah.” My throat tight, I didn’t say anything more.
We quickly settle into our old routine. She’s a student too, and we work out a schedule for chores, and occasionally share a meal.
I’m finally free to focus on my classwork the way I need to if I’m going to graduate on time.
I’m also miserable. I know my move is for the best, but I miss them so much.
The new apartment is closer to the shop than our old one was, but I’ve been spoiled by living with the men. I have to force myself to buckle down and study while I’m on the bus in the morning, instead of daydreaming about what Zeb might have made for breakfast, how yummy Griffin looks when he’s not fully awake, and what sculpture Frank is working on now.
At the shop, things are even worse. Every sight, every scent, every sound from the men stabs me through the heart. Griffin no longer teases me, and no matter how much it annoyed me at times, its absence is incredibly painful. Zeb is surlier than ever, Frank even more taciturn.
Despite this, the business is doing very well. I’m briskly professional and friendly with everyone who walks through the door, and we’re booked out several weeks in advance. Soon, it’ll be time to add another artist to this location.
That will probably be a good thing; it will change the dynamic, and hopefully break some of the unbearable tension between me and the men. I make a note to talk to Gage and Kai about it—assuming I still have my job. I haven’t heard anything more from them yet about the complaint that was made against me, and I hope it’ll fade away, but it’s still hanging over my head.
When Ava calls, I can’t help myself—I tell her everything. Again. “It sounds like you miss them a lot,” she says, gently pointing out the obvious.
“I do. I know it was just sex, but?—”
“You keep saying that.” She sounds faintly amused, but I know she’s not making fun of me; she’s been there. “In my vast experience—” we both laugh at that “—just sex is not enough to make you this unhappy.”
“It was really good sex,” I whisper.
She sounds like the big sister I never had when she says, “Ember.”
“I know. I know! But even if it’s more than that for me, it doesn’t mean they feel the same.”
“You could talk to them.”
“I lived with them for weeks, Ava.” I roll onto my back on my bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. “They had plenty of time to let me know if they wanted more than a fuckbuddy.”
“Men are weird,” she says fondly. “Awesome, but weird. They may not have realized it until you were gone.”
I sigh. “Maybe once I’m done with classes and graduation, I’ll talk to them.”
“Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks, Ava.”
I roll again, onto my side, and am reminded of my healing tattoos. The sight of them makes me sad. Which makes sense; I’m grieving, after all. Even if what I had with Frank, Zeb, and Griffin was just sex on one level, it was also more than that, and the loss of it has left an ache deep inside that nothing seems to soothe.