“Because they see me crack,” I whisper. “And they don’t run. They don’t try to force me back together or offer advice or…fixanything. They just stay. And it’s so—”
“Unfairly hot?” she offers.
I choke out a laugh. “Yeah. That too.”
Cassie tilts her head. “Do you trust them?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then let yourself fall, babe. Stop gripping the edge like it’s safer to dangle.”
Her words hit hard, a lump forms in my throat. I’m not afraid of loving them, I’m afraid they’ll realize how much power that gives me or worse how much it gives them. Before I can spiral again, the front door clicks open.
Carter’s holding a mix of pink and white roses, Tate follows with two iced coffees in hand and a paper bag that smells like donuts.
Tate shrugs. “They had roses. Carter said you like the pink ones. Don’t make it weird.”
Cassie grins. “Too late.”
I laugh. Really laugh, maybe I’m not spiraling anymore. Maybe I’m just falling.
Cassie lingers by the door, her eyes bouncing between the three of us. “You sure you’re good?” she asks quietly, her voice just for me.
I nod, softer this time. “Yeah. Actually… yeah.”
Her lips twitch into a grin. “Well, I officially approve of them. Both of them.”
“Cass—”
“Tell Tate he doesn’t intimidate me,” she adds with a wink. “And tell Carter to stop trying to earn my approval. He’s already got it.”
I laugh again, the knot in my chest loosening a little more.
“Text me later,” she says, pulling me into one last hug. “Or tomorrow, or when the smoke clears.” The door clicks shut behind her. The quiet that follows is different than before. I turn, and they’re both just watching me.
Carter still has that sweet, gentle tension in his shoulders, he wants to make sure I’m really okay before getting too close. Tate leans against the counter, iced coffee in hand, head tilted just slightly like he’s trying to decide if now is the moment.
I bite my lip and glance between them. “Come with me?” I murmur, backing toward my bedroom.
Carter moves first, slipping past me with a hand at the small of my back, brushing a kiss to my temple as he goes.
Tate follows a second later, kicking the door shut behind us.
I move first slipping my hoodie off and letting it fall to the floor. Carter’s eyes follow it down. Tate’s jaw tightens.
I crawl onto the bed.
Carter slides in behind me, his chest warm against my back, his lips brushing my shoulder. “You sure?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
His hand finds my waist, guiding me gently. Tate’s hands are anything but gentle, he grips my thighs, spreads them apart. “You want soft or feral first?”
I laugh, breathless. “Both.”
Carter groans behind me. “Let me go slow.”
Tate smirks. “Then I’ll go first.”
